[Page] THE PAINTING OF THE ANCIENTS, in three Bookes: Declaring by Historicall Observations and Examples, THE BEGINNING, PROGRESSE, AND CONSVMMATION of that most Noble ART.

And how those ancient ARTIFICERS attained to their still so much admired Excellencie.

Written first in Latine by FRANCISCUS JUNIUS, F. F. And now by Him Englished, with some Ad­ditions and Alterations.

LONDON, Printed by Richard Hodgkinsonne; and are to be sold by Daniel Frere, at the signe of the Bull in Little-Britain. 1638.

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, THE COUNTESSE of ARUNDELL and SURREY, my singular good Ladie and Mistresse.


AS the sweet and glori­ous harmony of your heroicall vertues, in so high a birth, most happily conjoyned and matched with the most illustrious Lord your husband, the very patterne of [Page] true Nobilitie, enforceth the world farre and neere with honour and admiration to behold and renowne you: so doth my con­dition require, that I within this little Bri­tain world, in which wee live, should unto your publike glory adde my particular te­stimony of your bountie and munificence, whereby I am engaged, above any other of your servants, to seeke any means both to intimate my humble dutie, and to pro­fesse my thankfull mind to your noble fa­milie. Neither needed I goe farre to find my occasion and subject; but even to make use of that, which in your service, and with­in the walls of your own house, I had pro­duced: I meane my observations of the manner of painting in use among the anci­ents. For seeing your Ladiship upon the first sight of my Latine copie, was pleased to expresse your desire of having it Engli­shed; there seemed a way to be opened un­to [Page] me, of effecting that my serviceable in­tent: and the rather, because some things having passed therein, which (as one day teacheth another) in the review and more mature cogitation I wished might be alte­red, I thought best to begin that correcti­on in this present Edition. Nor doe I so much over-ween, but that I see and con­fesse, that this translation befitteth rather the native fluency of one in-bred, than the forced stile of a forrainer; and therfore un­to severe eyes it might seeme an unpardo­nable presumption, to have taken upon me a burden so unfit for my shoulders to beare, and therewith to interrupt your higher conceits; yet feeling my selfe inspired with courage by the signification of your noble desire (which wrought in my heart, what an absolute command useth to worke in o­thers) I stoutly fell to my taske. Wherein I doubt not, but that, if your Honor by a [Page] favourable construction shall judge me not altogether undutifull, though not precise­ly officious; others also will think that this my forwardnesse in accomplishing your desire, may make all pardonable, if not in some degree acceptable. Howsoever these rude and imperfect attempts of your duti­full servant, shall finde their chiefest pro­tection and perfection in wearing the faire and glorious livery of your most noble and worthy name. And thus humbly lay­ing both my selfe and my endeavours at the feet of your Ladiship, to whom I wish all encrease of honor and happinesse, I ever remaine

Your Honors humbly devoted servant, FRANCISCUS JUNIUS F. F.

[Page] PEr legi hunc Tractatum, cui titulus est, [The Painting of the Antients &c.] in quo nihil reperio, quo minùs cum utilitate publicâ imprimatur: it a tamen ut si non intra tres menses proximè sequentes typis mandetur, haec Licentia sit omninò irrita.

Rmo in Christo Patri, ac Dro D. Arch. Cant. Sacellanus Domesticus.



PAge 12, line 31. read hafte. p. 79, l. 7. r. Himerius. p. 94, l. 25. r. checker-worke-like. p. 107, l. 6. r. Euphorion. p. 107, l. 7. r. scho­liast. p. 138. l. 1. r. Oppianus. p. 177. l. 17. paroemiographers. p. 202, l. 12. r. Agatharchus. p. 214, l. 17. r. exposed. p. 217, l. 19. r. Cities. p. 286. l. 5. r. too. p. 286, l. 13. r. ingenuous. p. 287, l. 12. adde can. p. 311, l. 8. r. accompting. p. 322, l. 20. r. faire. p. 324. l. 6. r. fitteth. p. 329, l. 12. adde an.

Whereas there be some few faults escaped in the marginall and other quotations, the Latine copie may give directi­on for amendme [...] of the same.



MY purpose is, by Gods assistance, to set forth the Art of paint­ing, as in old times it hath be­gun, as it was promoted, as it came to that wonderfull per­fection mentioned in ancient Authors. The first booke toucheth the first beginnings of Pi­cture. The second booke propoundeth diverse meanes tending to the advancement of this Art. The third booke speaketh of the maine [Page 2] grounds of Art, the which being well obser­ved by the old Artificers, made them come neerer to the height of perfection. As concer­ning the First booke, after a generall observa­tion of the inbred delight men take in the imi­tation of the workes of Nature, wee doe there­in urge somewhat further, that this delight stir­red up by our imagination emboldeneth it selfe, and still doth by little and little undertake greater matters, shunning onely that same immoderate study of such foolish and giddy­headed fancies, as young beginners often are carried away withall. Seeing also that many Artificers seeme to have drawne that same love of new-fangled conceits from Poets, I did not thinke it amisse to shew what affinitie there is between Poefie and Picture; adding upon the same occasion, how they are to prepare themselves that would willingly attaine to some skill in judging the workes of excellent Masters.


THe good and great maker of this Uni­verse, created the world after so glori­ous and beautifull a manner, that the Greekes together with the Romanes, a consent also of the Nations perswa­ding them thereunto Plin. lib. II. nat. hist. ca. 4., have called it by the name of an Ornament. Moreover, Man, whom many ancient Authors Manil. lib. IV. Astron. Galenus lib. III. de usu partium cor­poris humani. Nemesius ca. I. de Naturâ hominis. Jul. Firmicus in praefat. libri Tertii Ma­thes. call the little world, is not made after the image of God to resemble the wilde beasts in following of their lusts, but that the memory of his originall should lift up his noble soule to the love of a vertuous desire of glory. This opinion was of old grafted in the hearts of good men; neither doe the learned onely, but the vulgar sort also esteem the way of vertue to be the true way by which our mortall and transitory condition attaineth to an everlasting fame. But among such a num­ber of vertuous courses as may serve to get a great and du­rable renowne, every one doth most commonly deliberate with his own naturall inclination. The one by a praise­worthy boldnesse undertaketh to compasse with his under­standing the unmeasurable measures of heaven, leaving unto the following ages a full account of the innumerable number of heavenly lights, as a most certain and sure inhe­ritance, [Page 4] sayth Plinie Lib. II. nat. bist. cap. 26., if peradventure afterwards any one would take upon him to be heire thereof. Another doth not stick to prie into the most profound mysteries of Na­ture; neither will he give his mind any rest till he hath in some measure conceived the nature of the floting clouds, the cause of thunder, lightning, and of all those things that above or about the earth doe terrifie the heart of man. He goeth about the search of those things with a very great confidence, as knowing himselfe to be placed in this stately theater, to view and to consider all such wonders of God. Anaxagoras being asked to what end he was brought forth, answered; To behold the Sunne, Moone, and Heavens; see Diogenes Laertius, lib. II, in the life of Anaxagoras. Yea what is man, I pray you, but a creature approaching nee­rest unto God, as Quintilian Declamat. CCLX. speaketh, and ordained to the contemplation of the things contained in the world; see also Arriani Epict. lib. 1. cap. 6. Dionys. Longinus de sublimi orat. § 31. I amblichus in Protrept. cap. 3. Although now Quin­tilian and all the other Authors speak very well to the pur­pose; Tullie for all that commeth a great deal neerer to the point we have in hand; man himselfe, sayth he Lib. II. de Naturâ Dco­rum., is borne to contemplate and to imitate the world; not being any manner of way perfect, but onely a small parcell of what is perfect.

§ 2. As many then as are taken up with this kind of me­ditations, might seeme to goe farre beyond the ordinary sort of men, if they likewise were not left behind by them that doe not onely view but also imitate the wonders of Nature. The painters, sayth S. Chrysostome Homiliâ in Psalmum L., after the mix­ing of their colours, endeavour to set forth a lively similitude of diverse visible things: thus doe they paint reasonable and un­reasonable creatures, trees, warres, battels, streames of bloud, pikes, Kings, ordinary men; they make also a royall throne, [Page 5] the King sitting, a barbarous enemy throwne downe under his feet, the points of speares, running rivers, goodly medowes: to be short, they prepare unto the spectators a very pleasant sight, whilest they study by the force of their Art to expresse all manner of visible things. The words of Isidorus Pelusiota are likewise worth noting; the Painters, sayth he Lib. III. e­pist. 161., when they make bodily shapes of things without bodie, use sometimes to paint a lone hand which setteth a crowne upon the head of the Princes of this world; signifying, that this soveraign power is given them from heaven. Socrates toucheth also the large ex­tent of this Art, when he sayth Apud Xeno­phontem lib. III. Apo­mnem., the Painters studie with their colours to expresse, hollow and swelling, darke and light­some, hard and soft, rough and smooth, new and old bodies. Flowers, among all other visible things, shew the greatest varietie of colours; yet have the Painters attempted to ex­presse the same, as appeareth in the famous painter Pausias, who being in love with his Country-woman Glycera, was the first that assayed to bring the Art to such a wonderfull varietie of colours as there is to be seene in flowers: for be­holding sometimes how neatly shee did make garlands, and being no lesse ravished with that dexterity ofhers then with her beautie, he could not but take the pencill in his hand to strive with Nature it selfe; see Plinie xxxv, 10. Apelles like­wise painted things that can not be painted; Thunder and Lightning: see Plinie in the same place. It may seeme then that Theophylactus Simocatus did cast his eye upon some such like relation, when he Epist. 37. maintaineth that Painters un­dertake to expresse such things as Nature is not able to doe.

§ 3. It remaineth howsoever, that among so many Art as doe procure us everlasting glory, this Art is none of the meanest. And as it is a very great matter to carry in our mind the true images both of living and lifelesse creatures, [Page 6] so is it a greater matter to worke out a true and lively simi­litude of those inward images; especially if the Artificer doth not tie his imitation to some particular, though never so faire a body; but followeth rather the perfection of an in­ward image made up in his mind by a most earnest and assi­duous observation of all such bodies as in their owne kind are most excelling. Such as carve images, sayth Maximus Tyrius Dissert. VII, having gathered all that in severall bodies is reputed to be faire, bring it by the means of their art in one singular i­mitation of a convenient, pure, and well-proportioned beautie to passe; neither shall you find in haste a body so accurately ex­act, as to compare it with the beautie of a statue: For the Arts doe ever seeke what is fairest. Ovid seemeth to point at this, when he doth describe Cyllarus, the fairest of all the Cen­taures, he had a pleasing livelinesse in his countenance, sayth he XII Me­tam., and for as much as he was like a man, so came his necke, his shoulders, his hands, his brest, neerest of all to the praise­worthy images of the Artists. Wee are likewise to observe, that Philostratus doth very often compare the beauty of the ancient heroicall Worthies with the beautie of artificiall Statues, as you may see in his description of Protesilaus, Eu­phorbus, Neoptolemus, and elsewhere. If you doe take a man brought forth by Nature, sayth Proclus Lib. II. in Timaeum Platonis., and another made by the art of carving; yet shall not he that is made by Nature whol­ly seeme statelier: For Art doth many things more exactly. Ovid expresseth the same, when he witnesseth Metam., that Pig­malion did carve the snow-white ivorie image with such a luc­kie dexteritie, that it was altogether impossible such a woman should be borne. Such Artificers therefore as carry in their mind an uncorrupt image of perfect beautie, do most com­monly powre forth into their workes some certaine glim­mering sparkles of the inward beautie contained in their [Page 7] minds: neither may we thinke this to be very easie; for, according to Apollonius Tyaneus Epist. 19. his opinion, that which is best, is alway hard to be found out, hard to be judged. It is also well observed by an ancient Orator In Panegyr. Maxim. & Const. dicto., that the imitation of a most absolute beautie is ever most hard and difficult; and as it is an easie matter to set forth a true similitude of deformitie by her owne markes, so on the contrary the similitude of a perfect beautie is as rarely: seene as the beautie it selfe. It was not un­knowne unto Zeuxis, sayth Tullie In ipso sta­tim initio lib. II. de Invent., that Nature would ne­ver bestow upon one particular bodie all the perfections of beautie, seeing that nothing is so neatly shaped by Nature, but there will alwayes in one or other part therof some no­table disproportion be found; as if nothing more should be left her to distribute unto others, if she had once conferred upon one all what is truely beautifull. Wherefore, when this noble Artificer intended to leave unto the inhabitants of Crotona a choice patterne of a most beautifull woman, he did not thinke it good to seeke the perfection of a fault­lesse formositie in one particular body; but he pick'd out of the whole Citie five of the well-favouredst virgins, to the end he might find in them that perfect beautie, which, as Lucian speaketh In Hermo­timo., of necessitie must be but one. So doth Ze­nophon very fitly to this purpose bring in Socrates his dis­course held with the Painter Parrhasius, seeing it is not so ea­sie, sayth Socrates Apud Xeno­phontem lib. III. Apo­mnem., to meet with anyone that doth altogether consist of irreprehensible parts, so is it, that you having chosen out of every part of severall bodies what is fittest for your turne, bring to passe that the whole figures made by your Art seeme to be most comely and beautifull.

§ 4. Out of this most absolute fort of imitation there doth bud forth the Art of designing, the Art of painting, the Art of casting, and all other Arts of that kind. So doth [Page 8] Philostratus In prooemio Iconum. also call this same Imitation an ancient inven­tion, and altogether agreeing with Nature. The proofe of which point could here most readily be drawne out of that busie eagernesse we do see in almost all young children, that follow the tender imaginations of their rude and unexerci­sed conceits in making of babies and other images out of clay or wax, but that we thinke it better not to trouble our selves too much with the proofe of a thing which is cleare enough in it selfe, seeing every one may sufficiently informe himselfe concerning this point, who will but cast an eye up­on the daily pastimes used among little ones. Let us onely observe out of Quintilian Orat. In­stit. lib. II. cap. 17., that all such things as are ac­complished by Art, doe ever draw their first beginnings out of Nature: as also, that the greater part of Arts, to use the words of the same Author Lib. X. c. 2., doth consist in Imitation: so is it like­wise an usuall thing in the whole course of our life, that we our selves study alwayes to do what we like in others: children fol­low the copies which are set them, untill they get a perfect habit of writing: Musicians expresse the voice of their teachers: Painters imitate the workes of their predecessors: husbandmen doe frame themselves after the prosperous experience of them that tilled their ground with good successe: and we doe alwayes in the first entrance of all kind of learning, order our labours after an example propounded unto us.

§ 5. Neither may the great multitude of naturall things that our Imitation busieth it selfe withall, put us in such a fright as to hinder our good endeavours; seeing it is no more requisite in this Art then in many other Arts, that we should after a most troublesome manner goe over every lit­tle thing; as if it were not possible to attaine to perfection, unlesse we did learn to imitate all things that are in Nature. Certainly, the large diffused nature of things cannot abide [Page 9] that a teacher should weary his schollars with such an infi­nite number of figures; and whosoever doth undertake a­ny such thing, shall undergoe these two inconveniences, sayth Quintilian Lib. V. cap. 10., as to say alway too much, and yet never to say all. Thus may we very well be satisfied with the Imitation of the chiefest things, assuring our selves that lesser things will follow of themselves. Polycletus, having made Hercules, did not finde it a difficult matter to make the Lyons skinne, or the many-headed water-snake. Phidias likewise, having made the image of Minerva, did not thinke it much to make up her shield. No body doth so excell in greater matters, sayth Quintilian Lib. II. cap. 3., as to faile in lesser: unlesse Phidias by chance made Jupiter best of all, but that some body els should have been better at the making of such things as the worke was to be gar­nished withall. The words of the incomparable Orator are remarkable; as in other Arts, sayth Tullie Lib. II. de Oratore., when the hardest things are propounded, there is no need that the rest should be delivered after a laborious and toilesome manner, as being now easie and resembling the things taught afore; so in the Art of Painting, if any one hath throughly learned how to paint a man, the same shall likewise know how to paint a man of what shape and age he himselfe listeth, although it may be he never learned to make any such figures apart by themselves: neither is it to be feared, that he who can paint a Lyon or a Bull passing well, should not be able to doe the same in many other beasts that walke upon four feet. This point is also confirmed in the fol­lowing words of the most learned Quintilian; a Master must every day, sayth he Lib. VII. cap. 10., by severall examples shew the order and connexion of things; to the end that by a continuall practice, we should still passe on to things of the like nature: for it is impos­sible to propound all what may be imitated by Art: neither is there any Painter that hath learned to imitate all naturall [Page 10] things; but having once perceived the true manner of imita­ting, he shall easily hit the similitude of such things as shall be offered him.

§ 6. The first principles then of these Arts of imitation, doe not demand an endlesse labour, but rather contenting themselves with a few very moderate and easie documents of meet proportions, doe forthwith present us an open and ready accesse unto the most inward secrets of Art. And ve­rily, the whole Art of painting, may wondrous well be com­prised in a small number of precepts, which as they are in a­ny wise necessary, so are they for all that to be delivered af­ter a short and plaine way. When there is on the contrary a great stirre kept about the first rudiments of these Arts, it is very often seene, that young beginners are alienated from the Art, by reason of so diffused and intricate a man­ner of institution: their wits also, that had more need at the first to be cherished and encouraged, grow dull and sottish, being overwhelmed with a dry and barren multitude of farre fetch'd instructions: they doe sometimes also, to the great hindrance of their good proceedings, foolishly per­swade themselves, that they are already as good Artificers as the best of them, though they have done no more but slenderly learned by heart, and practised but grossely, some disorderly precepts, that are boasted to conteine the very pith and marrow of the whole Art: Many lively spirits at length are most pittifully turned away from their forward course, after they have enthralled themselves into such a mis-leading labyrinth of confused and intricate precepts, and having once lost that freenesse of spirit, by which the Art is most of all advanced, they give over all good endea­vors, they doe stagger at every little occasion, not daring to depart one inch from the much admired and highly e­steemed [Page 11] rules of Art. It is then expedient that we should not wander, but rather follow a setled short way, easie both for learners and teachers. Neither is it amisse, a beginner should strongly be possessed with this opinion, that there is a certain good way, in which Nature must do many things of her owne accord without any teaching; so that the grounds of Art may seeme not so much to have been found out by teachers, as to have been observed onely by them, when excellent Artificers that followed the unpremedita­ted and unrestrained motions of Nature practised them. To what we have hither to propoūded out of Quintilian Ex prooemio libri octavi., the words of Aquila Romanus may very well be applied, all things almost, sayth he De Figuris sententiarū., that are contained in the first pre­cepts, are put in practice by quick-witted men, not so much out of knowledge as by chance. It is left onely that we bring to their workes some kind of learning, and a great deale of attention, to the end that we might not onely perceive such virtues as una­wares they have imparted to us, but that wee also might have them afterwards at command as often as occasion shall require. It is then a very poore and silly shift, to lay the fault of our owne sluggishnesse upon the difficultie of the first princi­ples: this pretence can avail us nothing at all: seeing these Arts do indifferently without any regard of persons, invite all studious hearts to take their fill of that sweetnesse they doe affoord. It is likewise a very unnoble and faint-hearted lithernesse, to suffer the heat of our most fervent desire to be cooled, by reason that some have to very small purpose taken a great deale of paines about these Arts; seeing the knowledg of all such kind of Arts, saith Sidonius Apollinaris Lib. 11. Epist. 10., is by nature more gorgeously precious, how lesse common.

§ 7. Besides all this, there is yet another maine reason why some are so loath to meddle with these Arts; for they [Page 12] can never see them brought to such a perfection, but that there is alway something left, which requireth, if not men­ding, at least trimming and polishing. The facultie of Pain­ters, sayth Plato Lib. VI. de Legib., knoweth no end in painting, but findeth still something to change or to adde; and it is altogether im­possible that beautie and similitude should receive such an abso­lute consummation, as not to admit any further encrease. Thus doe they decline the supposed toilesomnesse of this Art be­fore the least experiment; and they will not resolve to doe any thing, because they doe forsooth despaire to doe all. Neither is there any possibilitie to cure this overthwart hu­mor of theirs, unlesse they doe first learne out of Vegetius Lib. II. de Re militari, cap. 18., that all kind of worke seemeth to be hard before we doe try it. They must secondly, consider what a vehement efficacy there is in mans wit; wheresoever you doe bend your wit, sayth Salust, it will prevaile. Maximus Tyrius likewise, what is there, sayth he Dissert. XVIII., which the all-daring soule of a man cannot cunningly find out, when shee hath but a mind to it? They are thirdly, to marke how great a matter they goe about. The reward of their labour, if they doe not shrinke and play the cowards, shall be an Art of Arts, an Art no lesse profitable then glorious. It is a most shamefull thing, sayth Tullie Circa ini­tium libri primi de Finibus., to grow weary, when the thing we study to obtain is of great worth. The which if we doe rightly conceive, wee shall also more readily entertaine this opinion, that the way is not unpassa­ble nor difficult. For the first and greatest ayd cometh from our will: and if we can but bring an unfainedly willing mind to these Arts, the worst will be past; seeing the things we are to learne, may be had by a few yeares study. The onely reason that maketh the way to seem long and tedious, is, because we doe nothing but haste and draw back at the least shadow of difficulties, suffering our courages to be [Page 13] daunted with the imagination of a wrongly conceived hardnesse. Let us but thinke the institution short and easie, and we shall finde it easie enough. And if we doe perhaps by the way light upon some hard and difficult matter, it may quickly be made easier by an orderly and discreet way of teaching. But now is the first and greatest fault in the tea­chers, that doe most willingly detaine their disciples about the first principles: partly out of covetousnesse, that by so doing they might the longer enjoy their gaines: partly out of ambition, that so it might seeme the harder what they themselves professe: sometimes also out of meere ignorance and negligence. The next fault is in the schollars them­selves, that had rather stay and dwell upon those things they doe know already, then to proceed further to what they are as yet ignorant of. We doe moreover shorten our own time, fooling the greatest part of our best houres away a­mong a company of pratling visiters; besides that stage­playes, banquets, cards and dice, unnecessary journeys, the immoderate care of our pampered carkasses, rob us also of a good deale of time that might be better husbanded: not to speake of wanton lusts, drunkennesse, and other such like beastly vices, by the which our distempered bodies waxe altogether unfit to make good use of so small a remnant of our time. This then being our daily practice, yet are we for all this wastfull lavishnesse of our youthfull dayes not asha­med to complaine that the Art is long, the time short, the experience hard and difficult; three lives, in our opinion, are too little that we should in them attaine to a perfect knowledge of these most copious Arts: wheras on the con­trary, if we would make good use of our good leisure, wee should rather thankfully confesse that we are not in want of time; and if we doe lacke any, that it is long of the idle pa­stimes [Page 14] and brutish lusts we are given to; seeing not the daies onely doe affoord us time enough, but the nights also; whose length is abundantly able both to quench our desire of sleeping, and also to stirre up our phantasie by a silent quietnesse. Even as in travelling such men as goe their way readily without any delay, come to their Innes as soone a­gaine as others that setting forth at the same minute doe by the way wander up and downe to meet somewhere with a refreshing shade, or a delectable water-spring; so is there in matter of Art an unspeakable difference betweene lazie lin­gerers and active spirits. Let us then take heed of so grosse an error, as to judge of the difficultie of these Arts by the time of our life, and not by the time of our study: for if we doe but order the time of our youth wisely, if wee doe not turne aside unto any idle and time-wasting sports, wee shall find time enough: neither may we pretend any want of meanes, that should helpe us to attaine to the perfection of these Arts, for if we do consider it right, we shall be for­ced to acknowledge with Quintilian Lib. XII. cap. 11., that antiquitie hath furnished us with such a number of Masters and examples, that no age may seem happier in condition of birth, then this our pre­sent age; seeing all the former ages did not thinke it much to sweat for our instruction.

§ 8. For as much then as it is most evident that the prin­ciples of these Arts are not too hard, and likewise that we are not in want of time, some do for all that play the modest men, alleadging for an excuse the perfection of these Arts to be such, that they may not without a great presumption hope to atchieve them, yea that it is wholly impossible to be perfect in them; Serveth for answer: that it is not repug­nant with the nature of things that somewhat should be done now, which in former times as yet was never done; [Page 15] seeing all such things as now are great and notable, have had also a time they were not. Neither is there any reason why we should slacke our endeavors, having besides the helpe of a reasonably good wit the advantage of a healthfull bo­dy, as also the guiding of a trusty teacher: and though we cannot mount up to the highest top of perfection, yet it is something for all that to sticke out above the rest in the se­cond and third place. It no is small glory, sayth Columella Lib. XI. de Re rust. c. 1., to be made partaker of a great and worthy matter, how soever it be but a little you do possesse. It doth then appeare how weak­ly and preposterously they doe argue, that esteeme it idle­nesse in a man to bestow great paines, where he knoweth a­forehand that it is impossible to attaine to the highest per­fection. This is a poore and slender argument, I say, seeing that such as heretofore in the opinion of all the world, have been the best and most renowned Artificers, should never have obtained the glory of that name, if taking courage they had not hoped still to doe better then the best of their predecessors; and though by chance it were not in their power to overtake and to out-run the best Artists, yet did they alway strive to come so neere as to tread upon their heeles: besides that we may daily see how an indifferently good practice of these Arts is very neere as profitable as the most perfect Art it selfe. Though now it were an easie mat­ter for us to shew that these Arts almost in all ages have car­ried the chiefest sway in the favour of great Kings and Po­tentates, that likewise by this means besides the due reward of glory, they have got themselves an infinite masse of wealth; yet do we esteeme the mention of such rewards to come far short of the worthines of these Arts, and of the suffi­cient contentment they doe finde in themselves. But of this we shall speake elsewhere at large. It is left onely that all such [Page 16] as thinke well of these Arts, should aspire unto the excellency of the inestimable Arts themselves without any by-respects: which doing, they shall undoubtedly reach the highest step of perfection, or atleast be lifted up to such a height as to see a great many left underneath their feet.

§ 9. It is an ordinary practice among Poets to call in the first entrance of their workes upon the Muses, craving of them such a readinesse of invention and utterance, that their Poems gushing forth as out of a plentifull water-spring, might with a gentle streame refresh and charme the hearts and eares of astonished men. The Artificers may likewise, before they doe goe about this worke, very fitly salute the sweet company of the nine learned Sisters; not so much to aske of them a good and prosperous successe of what they take in hand, as well to observe out of the proper signification of their names the severall steps that lead a Novice into the right way of perfection. The first of the Muses, sayth Fulgen­tius Lib. I. My­thol., is named Clio, which name she hath out of a Greek word, signifying fame: and by this name there is infinuated unto us the first and greatest motive that stirreth in us a desire of lear­ning: seeing the knowledge of good Arts and Sciences doth ex­tend our fame to the memory of late posterities. The second is Euterpe, that is, full of delight; for as we doe first seeke know­ledge, so do we afterwards delight in seeking. The third is Mel­pomene, that is, setling of meditation; for as there followeth upon our first resolution a desire to effect what we have resolved upon, so doth there upon this resolution follow an attentive ear­nestnesse to obtaine our longing. The fourth is Thalia, that is, apprehension; for it is ever seen that the apprehension, in a mind not altogether uncapable, doth follow upon the earnestnesse of attention. The fifth is Polymnia, that is, the remembrance of many things; for it is most of all required after the apprehen­sion, [Page 17] that we should perfectly remember the things rightly ap­prehended. The sixt is Erato, that is, finding something like; for it may justly be exspected, that the Artificer after a well-re­membred knowledge, should invent something of his owne, not unlike the things apprehended and remembred by him. The se­venth is Terpsichore, that is, delighting in the instruction; for it doth follow upon the invention of new matters, that we should judge of them and discerne them cheerfully. The eight is Urania, that is, heavenly; for wee doe after this care of judging make choice of such things as are fit to be further wrought upon, lea­ving the rest; which is the worke of a high and heavenly wit. The ninth is Calliope, that is, of a good utterance. The whole connexion is thus linked together. The first degree is, that wee desire knowledge: the second, that we delight in this desire: the third, that we doe eagerly follow the thing wee thus delight in: the fourth, that wee doe apprehend the thing followed: the fift, that wee remember what we once apprehended: the sixt, that wee doe invent something like unto the remembred apprehensi­ons: the seventh, that wee examine and discerne our inventi­ons: the eight, that wee choose the best of those things we have judged and discerned: the ninth, that wee doe well expresse the things well chosen.


BEsides this newly-mentioned imitation of na­turall things, by whose meanes Artificers doe expresse all kinds of visible things after the life, we are also to marke another sort of imi­tation, by which namely the Artificer embol­deneth himselfe to meddle also with such things as doe not [Page 18] offer themselves to the eyes of men: and although the chie­fest force of this Imitation doth consist in the Phantasie, so must wee for all this thanke our eyes for the first begin­nings as well of the Phantasie as of the Imitation it selfe. For the inward Imaginations that doe continually stirre and play in our minds, cannot be conceived and fashioned therein, unlesse our eyes some manner of way are made ac­quainted with the true shape of the things imagined, or at least that wee have felt them with some of our senses. Our mind, sayth Strabo Lib. 11. Geogr. maketh up the conceivable or intelligi­ble things out of the sensible: for as our senses doe certifie us of the figure, colour, bignesse, smell, softnesse, and taste of an ap­ple; so doth our mind out of these things bring together the true apprehension of an apple: so falleth it likewise out with great figures, that our sense seeth the parts of them, but our mind put­teth them hole figure out of those visible parts together. The mi­stius doth wonderfull well expresse all this: the phantasie, sayth he Paraphr. in lib. III. Arist. de Animâ, vi­de quoque e­jusdem The­mistii parap. in Arist. de Memoriâ & reminiscentiâ Maxime ta­men Alexan­drum Aphro­disiensem lib. 1. de Animâ., is like a print or footstep of sense: for as a leaver mooved by the hand mooveth a stone, and as the sea stirred by the winde stirreth a ship, so is it no wonder at all that our sense should be subject to the same: for our sense being stirred by out­ward sensible things, and receiving the shape of such things as doe stirre it, stirreth also in perfect creatures another power of the soule, commonly called phantasie: whose nature is to lay up the prints delivered her by sense, and to seale them up after so sure a manner, as to keepe still the footsteps of the same, after that now the visible things are gone out of our sight.

§ 2. So doth then this same most fertile power of our soule, according to Plato his opinion, yeeld two sorts of I­mitation; the first modleth onely with things seene, whilest they are set before our eyes; the other on the contrary stu­dieth also to expresse things prefigured only and represen­ted [Page 19] by the phantasie. Some Artificers, sayth Proclus Lib. II. in Timaeum Platonis., can imitate the workes of others most accurately; where as other workmen have rather an inventive qualitie, to devise wonder­full workes for the use of man: so hath he that first made a ship, phantastically conceived a platform of what be meant to make. The same Author goeth yet further; whatsoever is made af­ter a conceived or intelligible thing, sayth he Ibidem., is faire what­soever on the contrary is made after a thing generated, is not faire. For he that maketh any thing after intelligible things, must needs make it like the conceived things, or else unlike: if he doth make it like by imitation, so is it that the imitation of necessitie shall be faire; seeing there is in the conceived things a principall beautie: but if the Imitation be unlike, then doth he not make it after the conceived things; seeing he doth more and more swarve aside from the similitude of what is truely faire. Likewise he that maketh any thing after the example of things generated, shall never, as long namely as he doth fix his eyes upon them, attaine to what is perfectly beautifull; seeing the things generated are full of deformed disproportions, and far remoted from the principall true beautie. Hence it is that Phidias, when he made Jupiter, did not cast his eyes upon any thing generated, but he fetched the patterne of his worke out of a Jupiter conceived after Homers description. Other famous Writers, besides Proclus, doe also very much harp upon this string, urging alwayes Phidias his example as an infallible rule of Art: and it seemeth by their words, that they held Phidias to be so excellent an Artificer, because he had a sin­gular abilitie to imagine things invisible after a most maje­sticall manner. Nothing is in my opinion so beautifull, sayth Tullie De perfecto oratore., but we must alwayes conceive that to be fairer from whence the former, even as an image was wont to be made after a face, is expressed; which cannot be perceived by our eyes, nor [Page 20] eares, nor any of our senses, since we doe apprehend it onely by thought and minde. Hence it is that we can imagine something fairer yet then Phidias his images, although our eyes cannot be­hold any thing fairer in that kinde. Neither did that same Ar­tificer, when he made the images of Jupiter and Minerva, fixe his eyes upon one after whom he should draw such a similitude; but there did abide in his minde an exquisite forme of beautie, upon the which he staring, directed both his Art and his hand to the similitude of the same. There is then in the forme and shape of things a certaine perfection and excellencie, unto whose con­ceived figure such things by imitation are referred as cannot be seene. Plato, a most grave Author and teacher, not of knowing onely, but also of speaking, doth call these figures Ideas. To this place of Tullie, wee must by all meanes adde the words of Seneca the Rhetorician; Phidias saw not Jupiter, sayth he Lib. X. Con­trover. 5., yet hath he made him as thundering. Minerva stood not before the eyes of the Artificer; his mind for all that, worthy of such an Art, hath rightly conceived the Gods, and exhibited them. We may learne also out of the same Author how great a diffe­rence there is betweene the Artificers that doe worke after this manner, and the others that doe but imitate things pre­sent. This same majesty can then onely be expressed, sayth he Lib. VIII. Contro. 2., when our mind fore-seeth and fore-casteth the whole worke. Philostratus propoundeth all this more at large in that same most learned discourse, betweene Apollonius Tyaneus and Thespesion, the chiefest of the Gymnosophists. The words of Philostratus Lib. VI. de vitâ Apollo­nii, cap. 9. are worth rehearsing. It is so, sayth Thespesi­on, that Phydias and Praxiteles climbing up to heaven, and there expressing the severall shapes of the Gods, have afterwards applied them to the Art, or is there something else that hath taught these Artificers to counterfeit. Something else, replied Apollonius, and that full of wisedome. What is that? sayth [Page 21] Thespesion againe; seeing you can, besides the Imitation, name nothing. Phantasie, answered Apollonius, hath accomplished these things; an Artificer farre exceeding Imitation in wise­dome: for Imitation doth worke out nothing but what shee hath seene: Phantasie on the contrary doth take in hand also what shee hath not seene; for shee propoundeth unto her selfe unknowne things with a relation to such things as are. A certaine kinde of astonishment doth also often hinder our Imitation; whereas no­thing can disturbe the Phantasie, being once resolved to follow undauntedly what shee undertaketh. As for an Artificer that meaneth to conceive in his minde an image not unworthy of Ju­piter, the same must see him accompanied with the foure sea­sons of the yeare, with the constellations, with the whole hea­ven: for such a one did Phidias then imagine. He likewise that doth intend to make an image wherein there might be perceived some resemblance of Pallas, must see her with the looke shee hath at the marshalling of great Armies, or when she busieth her selfe about devices of counsell and inventions of Art, yea he must propound her unto himselfe as shee came gallantly leaping forth out of Jupiter his braine.

§ 3. We doe see then plainly that the Artificers stand very much in need of the mentioned Imaginative facultie: and although wee must ingenuously confesse that they doe not so much want it, who content themselves with the I­mitation of visible things, following stroke after stroke; for the exercise of this same faculty doth more properly be­long unto such Artificers as labour to be perfect, studying alwayes by a continuall practise to enrich their Phantasie with all kinde of perfect Images, and desiring to have them in such a readinesse, that by them they might represent and resemble things absent, with the same facilitie others doe expresse things present: yet shall we more strongly be con­victed [Page 22] of the necessitie of this same exercise, if we take this into our consideration, that Artificers are often to expresse such things as can but seldome, and that onely for a little while be seene; as namely, the burning of a Citie, of a vil­lage, or else of a company of scattered cottages; the mise­rable confusion of them that run their ship against a rock; the bloudy skirmish of a drunken mercilesse crew, dying in a most horrid hurlie burlie on heaps. It is most certain that we doe but seldome meet with such spectacles, neither doe they stay our leisure to let us take a full view of them; all is but a flurt, and away. It is left therefore that our Imagina­tion should lay up carefully what she hath seen, still increa­sing her store with Images of things unseene, as farre forth as it is possible to conceive them by a relation of what wee sometimes beheld. What shall we doe, sayth Seneca the rhe­torician Lib. X. Con­trovers. 5., if wee are to paint a battle? shall wee arme two se­verall parties, to see them discomfit one another? must wee needs see how a sad and dejected multitude of captives commeth drouping after the lascivious shouting, though all beblouded conquerours? as if the greatest part of mankinde had better pe­rish, then the Painter faile.

§ 4. It is then not onely profitable but also necessary, that an Artificer should by a daily practice carefully pro­vide himselfe of such kinde of Images, as might be ready at his call when he is to imitate things absent, and such things as never came before his eyes: and wee shall with much ease attaine to this, sayth Quintilian Orat. instit. lib. VI. c. 3., if wee are but willing: for as among the manifold remissions of our minde among our idle hopes and wakefull dreames, these Images do follow us so close, that wee seeme to travell, to saile, to bestirre our selves mighti­ly in a hot fight, to make a speech in the middest of great assem­blies, yea wee doe solively propound all these things unto our [Page 23] minds, as if the doing of them kept us so busie, and not the think­ing: shall wee then not turne this same vice of our minde to a more profitable employment? Furthermore, sayth the same Author in another place Orat. instit. lib. I. ca. 1., as birds doe delight in flying, hor­ses in running, wild beasts in fiercenesse, so is the quick stirring of our minde most proper unto us: whence it ariseth also that our soule is beleeved to draw her originall from heaven. As for blunt and indocible wits, it is certaine that they are as little brought forth after the nature of man, as prodigious and mon­strous bodies; but these are very few. It serveth for proofe, that there is most commonly in children a sweet-promising hope of many things perceived; the which in processe of time decay­ing and perishing, doth manifestly shew that there was no defect of nature in them, but onely want of care. It is then very well agreeing with nature, that we should cherish and turne to the best that same aptnesse which is in us to imagine strange things: and we shall better be able to follow this exercise, if we doe now and then, having first banished our ordinary cares, affect retired and solitary places; because Phantasie bestirreth it selfe most, when round about us there is no o­ther stirre to hinder our Imaginations: but seeing it is not alwayes in our power to meet with such a retirednesse as is most of all, besides the quietnesse of our minde, to be wish­ed; yet are we not upon the least disturbance instantly to give over the exercising of our Imaginations: for how shall we be able publikely in a crowd of many spectators, and a­mong the noise of many forward censurers to maintaine the sinceritie and cleerenesse of our judgement, if any little thing putteth us out? Wherefore we shall doe well at the first to strive against all such inconveniences, as Quintilian spea­keth Orat. Instit. lib. X. ca. 3., accustoming our minde to such a stedfast constancy of conceiving, as to overcome all other impediments by the ear­nestnesse [Page 24] of our intention: for if we do altogether bend this same intention upon the things conceived, our mind shall never take notice of any thing the eyes doe see, the eares doe heare. Doe not casuall and ordinary deep thoughts bring many times to passe that we cannot see them that run full but upon us, and that we doe sometimes stray from the way we are very well acquainted with? So is it then more likely that a purposed resolution may doe the same. Neither are we to give way to all such occasions as may serve for an excuse of slouthfulnesse: for if we begin once to thinke that there is no time of studying, but when we are suf­ficiently refreshed, merrily disposed, and free from all other cares, we shall ever find some pretences of lazinesse. Let our Imagina­tion therefore among multitudes of people, in journeys, in ban­quets withdraw it selfe to some secrecie.

§ 5. As many then as will not spend their labour and time in vaine, must not thinke it much to take some care and paines about the furnishing of their mindes with all manner of profitable Images. Our wardrobes, when they are once filled up, can take no more, sayth Cassiodorus De Animâ. cap. 12., this trea­sury of our minde is not overloaden in haste; but the more it hath put up, the more it craveth: so is it also, that all such as have filled this same store-house of theirs, finde upon any sudden occasion all kinde of Images ready at hand; where­as others, that have not made provision of them, are then first with an unseasonable and most unprofitable study to seeke them when it is time to use them; being most like un­to those unprovident unthrifts, that are faine to shift for themselves from time to time with scraping and raking, be­cause they never tooke any care how to attaine betimes to a sure and setled patrimony to live by. Philopaemen, a very famous and wise Generall of the Achaeans, being estee­med a most experienced Captaine in martiall affaires, hath [Page 25] by his own daily practise propounded unto the Students of any liberall Arts whatsoever a most forcible example of this same provident care. Philopaemen had singular skill in lead­ing of an Army and choosing a fit place where to pitch the camp, sayth Livie Lib. xxxv, àc. c., neither had he in times of warre onely exercised his minde to it, but also in times of peace. If he among his tra­vells did chance to meet with a forest wherein he saw some diffi­cultie, having viewed on all sides the nature of the place, he would forecast within himselfe if he went alone, or enquire of o­thers if he had any company about him, what if the enemy should appeare in that same place assailing his forces at the fore-front, at either side, or from behinde, what course were then best for him to take? He did likewise bethinke himselfe that his enemies might come upon him in a battell aray ready to fight, or else meet him after a confused and disorderly manner; so did he then consider or enquire what place was fittest for him; how many armed men, and what kind of Armour (holding that point also considerable) there might be required for present use, where he should bestow the baggage, together with the unwarlike multi­tude, as also with what and how great a troupe he might guard them. Furthermore, did he looke about whether he had better march on in his way, or else goe backe the same way he came; where he should lodge his Armie; how much ground his ram­pires should aske; not neglecting in the meane time to spie out a convenience for watering, as also where his forces might have good store of fodder and wood; which way and in what order he should remove his campe the next day. With these cares and i­maginations had he from his youth so exercised his minde, that nothing in such a case could be new unto him. There is no need of many words about the applicatiō of so notable an exam­ple, seeing it may serve very well for a most pure & perfect looking-glasse, wherein all those are to behold themselves [Page 26] that desire to be excellent in any Art. Wee are then by all meanes to bring a due and convenable preparation, as to all other Arts and Sciences, so likewise to these Arts of Imita­tion; and although we cannot at all times and in all places draw and paint, our mind for all that can prepare it selfe al­wayes and every where. Thankes be to God, sayth Ovid Lib. III. de Ponto, Eleg. 5., our minde hath leave to goe any where. Our minde compriseth in the space of few houres most large and very wide diffu­sed matters. Our minde cannot rest, but it findeth in the middest of our most earnest occupations some spare time for the nurturing of Imagination. Our mind findeth in this same most profitable exercise no small helpe by the dark­nesse of night it selfe, then chiefly awaking our speculations when sleep beginneth to faile us; neither doth shee then onely digest the conceived things in some kinde of order, but bringeth the whole Invention so farre, that nothing more but the hand of the Artificer seemeth to be required to the perfection of the worke.

§ 6. Although now it be manifest enough, that it is no hard matter to stirre up our Imagination, yet may wee not hope to get this same rare qualitie in one instant; seeing it doth require at the first some labour to settle our wild scat­tered thoughts, and to bring them to a custome of insisting upon any one intended Imagination, till we have met with some right well conceived and stedfastly abiding Images: then are we by little and little to encrease this store, study­ing alwayes to worke out a lively similitude of what wee have conceived: for without this same abilitie of expressing the conceived Images, is all the former exercise of our phan­tasie worth nothing; and it were a great deal better to follow sudden and unpremeditated conceits, sayth Quintilian Orat. Instit. lib. X. ca. 6., then to be troubled with such Imaginations as doe not hang hand­somely [Page 27] together. Forasmuch then as it hath been sufficiently proved in this present Chapter, how great reason we have daily to augment and to cherish the strength of our phan­tasie, so may the necessitie of this same practise as yet more be enforced upon us, if we doe consider that our Imitation is most commonly better or worse, according as our Imagi­nations are more subtill or grosse: and as it doth not agree with a refined and well conceived phantasie to expresse the things imagined after a homely fashion, so is it ever seene that generous and loftie conceits doe lead our Imitation to a most hopefull boldnesse. But of this more at large in the next Chapter.


THe Art of Painting hath been about the time of her infancy so rough and poore, that Aelia­nus, speaking of the first beginners of this Art, doth not stick to say Var. histor. lib. X. c. 10., that they were forced by reason of their unskilfulnesse in painting, to write by the severall figures expressed in their Pictures, this is an oxe, this is a horse, this is a tree. The great interpreter of the mysteries of Nature witnesseth al­so Plin. nat. hist. li. xxxv. cap. 3., that the first Picture hath been nothing else but the shadow of a man drawne about with lines. It is likewise rela­ted by the greatest part of ancient Writers, that all the sta­tues before Daedalus his time, have had a most unpleasant stifnesse, standing in a lifelesse posture with their eyes clo­sed up, their hands hanging straight downe, their feet joy­ned close together; and because Daedalus was the first that [Page 28] gave his workes some life and action, by making them after such a manner as that they did seeme to stirre their hands and feet, hence it hath been reported of his workes, that of their own accord they would goe from one place to ano­ther. Athenaeus Circa initi­um libri xiv Deipnosoph. telleth us at length a prettie tale of one Parmeniscus, who after he came out of the hole of Tropho­nius could never laugh, looking alwayes with a sad un­moveable countenance. Wherefore thinking it a most irke­some thing to be bereft of that same common joy of other men, to the Oracle he goeth, where Apollo maketh him an answer, that by mothers gift he should be filled with laugh­ter. Thus made he as much haste home as possibly could be made, confidently beleeving that upon the first sight of his own mother he should obtaine his desire: but all in vaine; for the presence of his mother changed him never a whit, and he was still the same. He maketh afterwards upon one or other occasion a journey towards the Iland Delus, view­ing round about all what was worth seeing in so famous a place; and having met with a world of rare and memorable sights, it came in his minde that among such a number of rich and artificiall monuments confecrated unto Apollo, the statue of his mother was like to be a singular good one. But being entred into the Temple of Latona, and finding there contrary to his expectation, an old wooden and very much mis-shapen image of the Goddesse; he also contrary to his hope burst out into a loud laughing. It would be wonder­full easie for us to prove here with more examples how pit­tifully poore and ridiculous the first workes of Art have been, if reason it selfe did not teach us that it could not be otherwise, seeing there is nothing, as Tullie speaketh De Claris oratoribus., both invented and finished at a time. Arnohius urgeth the same af­ter a more ample manner, the Arts, sayth he Lib. 11. ad­versus Gen­tes., are not toge­ther [Page 29] with our minds sent forth out of the heavenly places, but all of them are found out here in earth, and are in processe of time soft and faire forged by a continuall meditation. Our poor and needy life perceiving some casuall things to fall out pro­sperously, whilest it doth imitate, attempt, and try, whilest it doth slip, reforme, and change, hath out of this same assiduous reprehension, made up small sciences of Arts, the which it hath afterwards by study brought to some perfection.

§ 2. Seeing then it cannot be denied, but that the first beginnings of Art have been very poore and imperfect, it appeareth likewise that they could not much be advanced by a bare Imitation: for although Imitation was able to bring a studious Novice to such grounds of Art as had been put in practice by them that were before him; yet for all that never could any Student, that did professe himselfe a meere Imitator, goe further then his predecessors had gone alreadie. And sure it is that these Arts would alwayes have been at a stay, or rather growne worse and worse, if Phan­tasie had not supplied what Imitation could not performe. Wherefore it cannot be amisse to consider here a little how unprofitable and hurtfull it is that we should tie our endea­vours to a kinde of servile Imitation, without raising our thoughts to a more free and generous confidence. Such as never endeavour to stand upon their own legges, sayth Seneca Epist. 33., follow their predecessors, first in such things as were never cal­led in question, afterwards in such things as doe require further search. It is in the meane time certaine that we shall finde no­thing, if we doe content our selves with what was found alrea­die. He likewise that followeth the steppes of any other man, doth even as much as if he did follow nothing at all; neither doth he find any thing, because he doth not so much as seeke any thing. Marke also with us the following words of Quinti­lian; [Page 30] Nothing, sayth he Orat. instit. lib. X. ca. 2., doth receive any encrease by Imita­tion alone; and, if it had been altogether unlawfull to adde anything to the former, there should be as yet no other Picture but such a one as did at the first expresse the uttermost lines of the shadows which bodies make in the Sunne. If you doe runne over all the Arts, you shall find that no Art hath contained her with­in the narrow bounds of her beginnings; neither have we any reason to thinke that these our times onely should be so unfor­tunate, as that nothing now can wax better: it is then requi­site, that such also as doe not covet to be the first, should for all that rather study to outgoe then to follow: for he that striveth to goe before, may by chance keepe an even pace with the for­most, although he cannot out-run him; whereas on the contra­ry, he can never keepe an even pace with any one whose steppes he meaneth most carefully to follow; seeing he that followeth, must needs be the last. So is it for the most part easier to doe more, then even just the same: for there is such a difficultie in similitude, that Nature it selfe hath never been able to bring to passe that things most like one unto another should not be dis­cerned by one or other difference: besides that whatsoever bea­reth the similitude of any other thing, must of necessitie come short of the thing it doth resemble; seeing the things we take for examples of our Imitation, doe contain in themselves the true strength and livelinesse of Nature; the Imitation on the contra­ry, is ever fained and sometimes also corrupted by some kind of forced affectation.

§ 3. Having but now learned out of Quintilian, how small profit the Novices of these Arts receive by meere I­mitation, it followeth that we should likewise observe out of the same judicious Writer, how great hurt new begin­ners receive by such a slavish custome of imitating: a great many, sayth he Lib. V. c. 10., being intangled in those inevitable snares, [Page 31] have lost also the best endeavours their wit could suggest them; and looking backe after I know not what Master, they have for­saken the surest and best leader, Nature it selfe. Seeing then Quintilian doth not without great reason forwarne us to take good heed that wee should not too much accustome our selves to a strict course of Imitation, least we might by this means loose and put cleane away the ready suggestions of our own naturall wit; it can doe no harme to propound here, for confirmation of this point, a few other places col­lected out of approved Authors; if perchance by the consi­deration of them some good motions could be infused into our hearts. It is impossible to excell in any thing, sayth Dio Chrysostomus Orat. Lxiv., unlesse we do strive with them that are most ex­cellent. Continuall labour would be good for nothing, sayth Quintilian Lib. III. cap. 3., if it were unlawfull to find out better things then are found already. Whosoever meaneth to learne any thing, sayth another Author Rh. ad Herenni­um, lib. IV., must not think it impossible that one man should goe thorough all. It is most shamefull, sayth Quintilian Lib. I, c. 10., to de­spaire of such things as may be effected. Wee doe see that Arts and all other Sciences are gone forward, sayth Isocrates, not by their means that containe themselues within the compasse of things once setled, but by the means of such as goe about to mend some thing, stirring alwayes what in their opinion is not yet right. Time hath found out and mended many necessary things, sayth Synesius Epist. 57.. All things are not made after a patterne; nay all things that are made, have had their beginning; and before they were made, they were not at all: whatsoever is more pro­fitable, must alwayes be preferred before the things accusto­med.

§ 4. Others perhaps may more be taken with some other of these alleadged places, the words of Synesius run most of all in my mind, where he urgeth that things done by course [Page 32] of custome must alwayes give place when there are found out things more profitable. Neither can I forbeare upon this occasion to follow a little the steppes of the most wise and discreet Quintilian, seeing he disputeth in sundry pas­sages very much to our purpose. Some doe alwayes creepe neere the ground, for feare of falling; they do shunne and loath all delightfulnesse in painting, allowing of nothing but what is plaine, meane, and without any endeavor. Nei­ther can these weake and miserable Artificers give the least reason why such dainties doe not agree with their palate; for what crime is there, I pray you, in a good Picture? doth it not advance the Art? doth it not commend the Artificer? doth it not move the spectator? All this cannot be denied: and therefore do they not plead any thing for themselves, but that it is a way of painting not used by the Ancients. Whatsoever is not done after the example of Antiquitie, goeth against their stomackes. This pretence might seeme plausible enough, if they did expresse what Antiquitie it is they appeale to: for it is not to be beleeved that they meane the first times of the newly invented Art: it being most certaine that Phydias and Apelles have brought many things to light, their predecessors knew nothing of: neither can any man think well of Praxiteles and Protogenes his works, that would have us follow the Art of Calamis and Polygno­tus without varying from them in the least stroke. And al­though some of the ancient Masters that came neerer the first times have followed a commendable kind of plain and sure worke, yet have the following added unto this plain­nesse of theirs diverse ornaments that did sticke out in their workes, even as cleere shining eyes use to do in a faire face: but as bodies that are every where deckt with eyes, obscure the beautie of the other members; so doe many Artificers [Page 33] now adayes drowne the pure brightnesse of their Pictures with too much braverie: if then wee must needs follow ei­ther of both, it is fit that we should preferre the drinesse of the Ancients before that same new licence our times have made choice of. But now need we not come to this, as to tie our Imitation to either of those; seeing there is a certain middle way to be followed; even as to the first sim­plicitie of food and apparell there hath been added an un­reproveable kinde of neatnesse. The first for all that we are to observe, is, that wee studie to avoide grosse faults; least in stead of being better then the Ancients, we should onely be found unlike. Quintil. lib. VIII, cap. 5.

§ 5. As many then as desire to expresse the principall vertues of the best and most approoved Artificers, must not content themselves with a slender and superficiall viewing of the workes they meane to imitate, but they are to take them in their hands againe and againe, never leaving till they have perfectly apprehended the force of Art that is in them, and also thoroughly acquainted themselves with that spirit the Artificers felt whilest they were busie about these workes, it is not possible that out of a rash and raw observa­tion, there should ever arise a good and lively Imitation: even as we never use to swallow downe our meate, before it be sufficiently chewed and almost melted in our mouthes, seeing this is the way to helpe our digestion, and to have it quickly turne into most wholesome bloud. Wee must also for a great while imitate onely the best, and such other Ar­tificers as are like least of all to deceive our trust reposed in them: but we are to doe it most advisedly and carefully; because it is often seene that the best Masters doe purposely hide and conceale their owne vertues: neither may we pre­sently thinke that all we do find in great Masters is perfect: [Page 34] for they slip sometimes unawares, they yeeld and stoop un­der the burthen, they cocker their forward wits too much, they are not alwayes attentive, otherwhile they grow wea­ry also: they are the greatest Artificers, but yet men: and it falleth out very often that such as relie too much upon them, imitate for the most part what is worst in their workes; thinking themselves to be like enough, when they have onely expressed the vices of their much admired Masters. Many things might be added to this point, neither should we leave it so, if we did not esteeme it more needfull to re­peat a little what we have touched before; to wit, that such things as doe deserve to be most highly esteemed in an Ar­tificer, are almost inimitable; his wit, namely, his Inventi­on, his unstrained facilitie of working, and whatsoever can­not be taught us by the rules of Art Quintil. x. 2: so doe we also re­ceive no small benefit out of the hardnesse of this matter, seeing the consideration of this same difficultie doth advise us to looke somewhat neerer into the workes of excellent Artificers; neither can we resolve to run any more with a quick eye carelesly over them after we have once perfectly understood the great force of their vertues by the pains we are to take before we can either understand or imitate them aright. Quintil. X. 5.

§ 6. We are then to observe here two things: the first is that we make a good choice of the Artificers we meane to imitate; seeing many doe propound themselves the exam­ples of the worst: the second is that we do likewise consider what we are most of all to imitate in the chosen Artificers; seeing we doe meet also with some blame-worthy things e­ven in the best Artificers: and it were to be wished, that we did as well hit their vertues better, as wee use to expresse their vices a great deal worse. As for them that want no [Page 35] judgement to discerne and to shun the faults of great Ma­sters, it is not enough they should expresse a vaine and forcelesse shadow of such vertues as are most of all admired in others; for our Imitation is then onely to be commen­ded, when it doth after a most lively manner set forth in e­very particular the true force of the work imitated: where­as rash and inconsiderate beginners fall to worke upon the first sight, before ever they have sounded the deep and hid­den mysteries of Art, pleasing themselves wonderfully with the good successe of their Imitation, when they seeme one­ly for the outward lines and colours to come somewhat neere their paterne: and therefore doe they never attaine to that power of Art the originalls have, but they doe ra­ther decline to the worst; embracing not the vertues them­selves, but their neighbour vices: they are puffed up, not stately; starved, not delicate; temerary, not confident; wanton, not delectable; negligent, not plaine: the pra­ctise of them that goe about to imitate the most ancient pieces by a dry and hard manner of painting, may serve us here for an instance; seeing they doe onely expresse the outward shew of simplicity, never regarding what treasures of Art there lie hidden under this same sober and temperat way, used by the ancient Masters. Quintil. X, 2. To be short; a good Imitator standeth in need of learned and well exer­cised eyes; not onely, because hidden things cannot be seen unlesse they are first searched out; but also, because the things apparant are very often so cunningly contrived and joyned, that none but quick-sighted Artificers and tea­chers can perceive them. And this is the true reason why these Arts doe alwayes at the first require the helpe of a faithfull Master, who may sincerely acquaint us with such things as deserve to be imitated, who may teach us, who [Page 36] may mend what is done amisse, who may direct us, who may informe us by what shew of dissimilitude the similitude of things neerely resembling is to be concealed: for a good I­mitator must by all meanes be a concealer of his Art, and it is somewhat too childish to follow the same strokes and lineaments in all things. Though now in the opinion of some it may be held a praise-worthy thing to expresse Apel­les his Venus, Anadyomene or Protogenes his Satyr, & though in their judgement it deserveth no blame to fit our workes so accurately with the same colours and shadows, that they may seeme to come neerest unto the similitude of such ab­solutely accomplished patternes; it is for all that a greater matter to expresse in Achilles his picture the very same Art which was by Apelles represented in the picture of Alexan­der. Wee must therefore endeavour first of all that there seeme not to be any similitude; and if there appeareth any, our second care must be that it may seeme to be done pur­posely: which is the worke onely of learned and well-ex­perienced Artificers: and is then chiefly to be done, when by a most laudable contention they doe hunt after a certain grace of hidden similitude in such things as should be like in nothing but in the manner of handling.

§ 7. It is then required here that we should not onely bend our naturall desire of Imitation towardes the best things, but that we should likewise study to understand wherein the excellency of the same things doth consist: the which having diligently performed, we shall by the same meanes perceive how necessary it is that we should duly ex­amine our owne abilitie and strength, before we undertake the Imitation of such workes as doe excell in all kinde of rare and curious perfections. There offer themselves almost in every good Picture many things hard to be expressed, [Page 37] not onely because they are beyond our power, but some­times also because there is in us a certaine unablenesse of i­mitating such things as do not very well agree with our na­turall disposition: for every one hath within his own brest a certaine law of nature, the which he may not neglect; so are also the most ill-favoured and gracelesse Pictures most commonly wrought by them that venture upon any thing without considering to what their naturall inclination doth lead them most of all: neither can it be otherwise but noto­rious grosse errours shall be committed by him that having but an ordinary wit, meaneth to busie himselfe about the imitation of things onely commendable for the strength of wit contained in them: contrariwise such as have an unta­med force of wit, and consequently a bold and audacious readinesse of hand, are like to spoyle both themselves and their worke, if they endeavour to imitate pieces done by them that bring a soft and gentle hand to the inventions proceeding out of a milde nature: soft things are so warily to be mingled with things that have a certain kind of hard­nesse, that we doe not overthrow both the vertues by an unadvised confusion: and it hath ever been esteemed an un­seeming and foule mistake, to expresse tender and delicate things after a harsh and rough manner. Out of all this are we moreover to observe that it is an unadvised thing to tie our Imitation to one Master alone, though never so great: seeing there is not one among a thousand whose conceits and manner of worke doe altogether agree with our incli­nation and temper. Apelles was questionlesse the most com­pleat among all the other Artificers, yet have some of the old ones excelled him in one or other particular qualitie: and although in his workes is to be found what is most lau­dable, neverthelesse did not the ancients judge that he who [Page 38] most of all was to be followed, was also to be followed [...] and in all things. What then? is it not enough to do all things as Apelles did? certainly, there is good reason why we should thinke it sufficient if we knew how to attaine to it: but seeing it is not possible that any one man should come so neere him as to expresse all such vertues as by a peculiar instinct were proper unto him, so can it doe no hurt to adde to that same highly esteemed grace of his the successe­full audacitie of Zeuxis, the infatigable diligence of Proto­genes, the witty subtiltie of Timanthes, the stately magnifi­cence of Nicophanes. For as it is the part of a wise man to borrow of every one what he knoweth best to agree with his own naturall inclination, so is it seldome or never seene that the workes of one man should fit our humour in all things; seeing also that it is not permitted us to expresse one Master in every particular, it seemeth to be a very good course that we should fix our attentivenesse upon the ver­tues of severall great Masters, to the end that something out of the one and something out of the other might sticke to us. Quintil. X. 2.

§ 8. What wee have propunded already is of such im­portance, as that it deserveth to be repeated againe and a­gaine: neither doe we care what others thinke on it, seeing we are upon good grounds perswaded that the true follow­ing of a rare Masters Art, doth not consist in an apish Imi­tation of the outward ornaments, but rather in the expres­sing of the inward force. It concerneth us therefore not a little to marke narrowly what a singular Grace the old Ar­tificers have expressed in their works, what hath been their intent, what cunning and circumspect discretion they doe shew in their dispositiō, how likewise the very same things that might seeme to be onely for recreation, prepare them [Page 39] a ready way to an everlasting fame: till wee have rightly searched and understood every one of these things, it is to very small purpose that we should goe about any such thing as to imitate the old deservedly renowned masters. If any one on the contrary can ad so much to these observa­tions, as to make up what lacketh in the ancient Artificers, and likewise to detract what is superfluous in them, him shall wee esteem to be that same long looked for, and per­fect Artist, the which besides a great many other commen­dations, shall not only be said to have deprived the former ages of the enjoying of such a glory, but he shall seem also to have snatched away from the following ages the very hope of so glorious a title. Quintil. X, 2. Seeing then that this is a main point of Art, wee have also stood a little longer upon it, not doubting but all reasonable and judicious Readers will not dislike the same digression drawne out of severall pas­sages wee finde in Quintilian.

§. 9. Having therefore understood out of the former words of Quintilian, that a perfect Artist is to joyne to this care of Imitation all the vertues hee hath of his owne, wee are by this warning, as by a hand brought back againe to that point from which we did somewhat digresse, fin­ding our selves in a manner compelled to approve of the most learned Varro his judgement. Apelles, Protogenes, and other excellent Artificers deserve no blame, saith he, Lib. VIII. de LL. for refusing to follow the steps of Mycon, Diores, Arymnas, and some other of their predecessors; Lysippus also hath not so much followed the errours of the former masters, as the Art it selfe: neither is this to be marvelled at; seeing their Phantasie conceived without any example did fill them with more accurate Images of things, then ever had been invented by all the masters before them; so would all the world also [Page 40] have judged it in them a renouncing and forswearing of witte and discretion, if the prime spirits of the world had preferred the love of a blame-worthie consuetude before better inventions. It is cleere then, what singular bene­fit wee doe receive, and how much these Artes are advan­ced by a well-ordered Imagination; for it is brought to passe by her meanes that the most lively and forward a­mong the Artificers, leaving the barren and fruitlesse la­bour of an ordinarie Imitation, give their minds to a more couragious boldnesse; and scorning themselves any more to be tied to such a slavish kinde of Imitation, they stirre up their free'd spirits to goe further then others have done before them: every Arte, saith Epictetus, Arriani E­pict. lib. II, cap. 13. hath a certaine kind of stedfastnesse and hardinesse in such things as doe con­cerne her.

§. 10. There is then questionlesse some Perfection of Arte to bee attained unto; neither may wee thinke it un­possible but that wee as well as any body else can attaine to it; and although the highest step of perfection were de­nied us, yet are they likelyer to lift themselves up higher who resolve to strive and to take paines, then such as at the first beginning are driven backe by a faint-hearted de­spaire: an open field is fitter for Art, saith Quintilian, Orat. instit. Lib. V, cap. 14. then a straight foot-path: shee should not be collected out of narrow pipes, as fountaines usually are; but rather over-flowe whole valleys, after the manner of broad rivers, making her selfe a way where she findeth none: for what is there more miserable then to be alwayes tied to a set kinde of imitation, even as chil­dren doe follow the prescribed Letters? a right Artificer must therefore banish all unseasonable feare, and goe on stoutly in his worke: a sure way, deserveth to bee commended only; saith Plutarch, De Educat. liberorum. what on the contrary runneth hazard, is [Page 41] moreover admired: the younger Plinius speaketh of this point more at large: a great many Arts, saith hee, Lib. IX, epist. 26. are most of all commended for things dangerous: so do we daily see what great shouting rope-dauncers put spectatours to, when they handsomly recover themselves after a perillous staggering and reeling: whatsoever is subject to many dangers, and yet scapeth beyond expectation, seemeth alwayes to deserve admiration: so hath not the vertue of a pilot an equall esteem, when hee sai­leth in a calme, and in a boisterous sea: then, being admired by no body, hee putteth into the haven without praise or glorie: but when the wind-shaken ropes rumble and rustle, when the mast bendeth, when the sterne groaneth, then is he extolled and judged to come neere the Gods of the sea.

§. 11. Although now in the former exhortations wee have studied to bring the Artificers to a forward and ge­nerous boldnesse, it is for all that required here, that great witts should moderate somthing the hot furie of their fi­rie spirits; seeing young beginners verie often are so ta­ken up with the love of their Imaginations, that they en­tertaine them with greater delight then judgement: the witts now a daies, saith Dyonysius Longinus, De sublimi oratione, §. 4. runne cory­bant-like madde after all kind of new-fangled conceits: for of whom wee have the best things, the worst also love most com­monly to be brought forth by them: and this is doubtlesse the true reason why meane and ordinary witts doe very often follow their intended purposes with a great deal of con­stancie; seeing they are not so easily drawne aside by the sweet tickling of any sudden and unexpected Imagination: thus falleth it out, saith Seneca, Lib. II. trov. 1. that hard-favoured, ill­countenanced damsels are very often chaste and undefiled; not so much for lack of will, as for want of a corrupter: it is like­wise a good observation the same authour maketh else­where, [Page 42] In prooe­mio Secundi Controv. that namely it is an infallible marke of an excel­lent wit, not to be carried away so much by the goodnesse of it, as to use it amisse.

§. 12. An Artificer therefore is to take good heed that he doe not by a malepart wantonnesse of his vainly con­ceited wit devise all kind of monstrous and prodigious Ima­ges of things not knowne in nature; for it fitteth him bet­ter to have his minde, as Lucian speaketh, De conscrib. historiâ. like unto a pure, bright looking-glasse, the which also being of an accurat cen­ter, sheweth the true images of things even as it receiveth them, not admitting any distorted, false-coloured, otherwise shaped figures: whatsoever then hath been spoken in the former, and also in this present chapter, about the raising of our thoughts and conceits, may not be understood of all sorts of idle and giddie-headed Imaginations, but only of such Phantafies as are grounded upon the true nature of things: the Art of Painting, saith Socrates, Apud Xen. lib. III. Ap­pomnem. is a resembling of vi­sible things: neither doth our Imitation at any time fasten upon things invisible, but (as it hath been said before) with a relation to what is really existing and visible: the auncients, saith Vitruvius, Lib. IV, cap. 2. did judge that such things could not be resembled with anyshew of truth, which were disagree­ing from the true nature of things: for they were wont to draw every thing to the perfection of their workes out of one or other undeniable propertie of Nature; approving only of such Images as after a ripe debate were found to admit an explication con­senting with Nature: the same Author hath pressed this ve­ry point in another place with a great deal more earnest­nesse. Let the Picture bee an image, saith hee, Lib. VII, cap. 5. of a thing that is, or at least can bee; of a man namely, of a house, of a shippe, and such like things, out of whose limited shapes our Imitation propoundeth it selfe an example: the auncients [Page 43] therefore were wont to adorne such parlours as were for the spring and harvest time, such porches also and long entries as were for Summer, with all kinde of Pictures drawne out of the certaine truth of things naturall. But those examples taken by the Ancients out of true things, are now by reason of our corrupt manners utterly disliked: seeing in our plaisterings there are rather monsters painted, then any certaine images of limited things: and yet doe not men, when they see such false things, re­buke them, but they doe much more take delight in them: nei­ther doe they marke whether any such thing can be, or not: the weaknesse of their judgement hath so darkened their wits, that they cannot examine what the authoritie and reason of decencie demandeth: for such Pictures are not to be liked, as doe not re­semble the truth: and if they are made neat and fine by Art, yet must wee not instantly approve of them, unlesse wee doe finde in them some certaine kinde of arguments free from all offence. Now as the Artificer may not abuse the libertie of his Ima­ginations, by turning it unto a licentious boldnesse of fan­cying things abhorring from Nature; so must also a right lover of Art preferre a plaine and honest worke agreeing with Nature before any other phantastically capricious de­vices. Plutarch hath very well observed this; There are ma­ny at Rome, sayth he De Curiosi­tate., which doe nothing at all care for good Pictures and Statues, but a man may finde them alwayes upon the monster-market, where they stand and stare upon such mai­med creatures as want either legges or armes, as have three eyes or heads of Ostriches, and if there be any other hideous detestable deformitie: but although at the first they seeme very much to be taken with such kind of spectacles, yet will they soone have their fill on them, yea they will loath them, if you bring them often before their eyes.

§ 13. It is then a very grosse errour to deeme with the [Page 44] vulgar sort that Painters as well as Poets have an unlimited, libertie of devising; for if we doe but marke what Horace telleth us in the first entrance of his booke written about the Poeticall Art, wee shall confesse that neither Poets nor Painters may take such a libertie as to stuffe up their workes with all kind of frivolous and lying conceits. Lactantius al­so hath observed this point very well; men doe not know, sayth he Divin. in­stit. lib. I. cap. 11., which be the measures of poeticall licence, and how farre we may give way to our fancies; seeing a true Poets part doth consist chiefly in this, that by some crooked and wandering kinde of conceit he doe decently turne the deeds of Gods and men into a fabulous tale: for to devise the whole related matter, is the worke of an idle braine, and it becometh alyar better then a Poet. The mention we made here of Poets and Painters, seemeth now to lead us to consider a little wherein they do chiefly agree; the more, because it is sufficiently known that the Imaginative qualitie, of the which we have handled, is alike necessary to them both. Thus doe we then in the next Chapter goe about this point: once for all admonishing, that under the name of Painters, all such Artificers are com­prised, as doe any manner of way practise any of the other Arts of that nature.


ALL Arts, sayth Tullie Pro Archia poeta., that doe belong to hu­manitie, have a common band, and are ally'd one to another, as by a kind of parentage. Tertullian speaketh to the same effect, when he sayth De Idolola­triâ.; there is no Art, but shee is the mother of another Art, or at least of a nigh kindred: seeing then that the con­nexion [Page 45] of the worke in hand enticeth us to prove the truth of these sayings by a mutuall relation there is between Poe­sie and Picture, it followeth also that wee should propound some properties of them both, out of which it might be per­ceived that they are very neere of the selfe same nature. Both doe follow a secret instinct of Nature: for we do dai­ly see, that not Poets onely, but Painters also are possessed with the love of those Arts, not so much by a fore-determi­ned advise, as by a blind fit of a most violent and irresistible fury. As for Poets, there is a God in us, sayth Ovid Circa initi­um libri Sex­ti Fastorum., by whose tossing of us we are enflamed: this same forwardnesse hath in it selfe the seeds of a sacred minde. As for Painters, Nicophanes had a most forward mind, sayth Plinie Lib. xxxv, nat. hist. cap. 10., and there are but a few that may be compared with him in this. The same Author speaking of Protogenes, sayth againe in the same place, the forwardnes of his mind, and a certain inclination or pronenesse to the Art, have carried Protogenes to these things. And it is very aptly put in here, that a certaine forward pronenesse to the Art made Protogenes so excellent an Artificer; seeing they do alwayes with the greatest ease and best successe ex­ercise an Art, who out of a free desire give themselves so readily to it, that they cannot so much as give an account of this same most forward desire. The Peripatetike Philo­sophers seeme to have understood this perfectly when they doe maintaine, that no body can doe any thing neatly and fine­ly, unlesse he hath a very good minde to it, sayth Tullie Lib. IV. Tuscul. quaest.. It is required therefore, that all such as would willingly attaine to these Arts, doe find in themselves some swift motions of their wits and minds, both quicke to invent, and copious to expresse what is found: neither may we thinke that the first beginnings of these Arts proceed from Art, seeing it is a gift of Nature that any man findeth this same aptnesse in [Page 46] himselfe; and our case standeth well enough, if Art can help such tender seeds to a full growth; for that Art should in­fuse them into us, is altogether unpossible. Out of this ob­servation there doth arise a question propounded and an­swered by Horace: it hath been very much questioned, sayth he De Arte poeticâ., whether Nature or Art doth accomplish a Poeme. I can­not see what helpe there is in study without a rich veine, or else in a rude wit; so doth one of these two alwayes require the o­thers helpe, and they doe both very lovingly conspire. Quintili­an doth both propound and answer the same question more at large; I doe know well enough, sayth he Orat. instit. lib. II. c. 19., that many use to aske here whether Art receiveth more helpe of Nature or of Do­ctrine: the which although it be not much appertaining to our purpose, seeing a compleat Artificer cannot be made without both; yet doe I take it to be a great matter how the question is propounded: for if you divide the one from either of both parts, Nature can doe much without Doctrine, where Doctrine on the contrary cannot be without Nature: but if there be an equall meeting of them both, so shall I thinke that, both being but rea­sonable, Nature is yet of greater moment; and that accurate Artificers notwithstanding owe more unto Doctrine then unto Nature: the best husbandman can doe no good upon a dry and barren ground; out of a ranck ground will something grow up, though no body doth till it; but in a fertill ground shall the la­borious husbandman prevaile a great deal more then the good­nesse of the ground it selfe: and if Praxiteles had endeavoured to carve an image out of a mill-stone, I had rather have a good piece of rough Parian Marble, then such an halfe-finished work: but if the Artificer had accomplished it, I should more esteeme in that same worke the Art of his hands, then the costlinesse of the Marble. Compare therefore Nature with the materiall, and Art with Doctrine: the one doth worke, the other is wrought upon: [Page 47] Art can doe nothing without the materiall; whereas the mate­riall without Art hath her own worthinesse. So is then the high­est Art together with the best materiall to be desired. These words of Quintilian should content us here, if the same judicious Writer did not urge in another place a point more to be marked; for seeing that in the workes of excel­lent Artificers, their decent Grace is most of all to be had in admiration, so are we moreover in this same Grace to ad­mire a great difference of Natures: There is in this point some hidden and unspeakable reason, sayth Quintilian Sub finem libri unde­cimi orat. institut., and as it is truely sayd, that it is the principall point in Art to be comely in what we doe; so can this comeliness for all that not be had with­out Art, neither can it altogether be procured by Art: in some Artificers vertues are not pleasing; in some on the contrary vi­ces themselves are gracefull. Wee have seene Demetrius and Stratocles, great actors of Comedies, how they were liked for severall vertues. But this was not so wonderfull, that the one knew better how to act Gods, modest young men, good fathers, sober servants, grave matrones and old women: the other got greater commendations by acting sharpe old men, shrewd ser­vants, insinuating parasites, wily bawdes, and all such parts as did require some noise and stirre: this then was not so strange I say, seeing Demetrius had also a sweeter voice, whereas Stra­tocles his voice was more vehement. Such properties are more to be noted in them, as could not be transferred from the one to the other. It became Demetrius exceeding well to throw his hands, to prolong sweet exclamations in the behalfe of the thea­ter, to fill up his garment with the winde gathered by his stir­ring, to make some gestures with his right side; for he had in all this the advantage of his stature, and of a wonderfull feature: but Stratocles was admired for his running, for his nimblenes; for the pulling in of his neck, for laughing sometimes more then [Page 48] occasions of the part he played did require; seeing he did this al­so to gratifie the people, as knowing well enough how the vulgar sort was taken with it; and if Demetrius had gone about any such thing, it would have made a most ill-favoured shew. Wher­fore let every one know himselfe; and let him then deliberate a­bout the framing of his worke, not onely with the common pre­cepts of Art, but also with his owne nature: neither is it for all that impossible, but that a man may doe all things or at least the greatest part of them after a decent manner. As it is then mani­fest that every Artificer hath a peculiar Grace in his works, agreeing with the constitution of his nature; so may wee further out of Quintilians words draw this conclusion, that we are not instantly to condemne every Artificer that see­meth to follow another way then such an one we doe de­light in; for it may very well be, that severall Masters in the severall wayes their owne nature leadeth them to, should not misse for all that the Grace they doe aime at. In my opini­on, sayth Tullie Lib. III. de Oratore. there is no kinde of nature, but wee shall ob­serve many things in the same, the which though they differ ve­ry much, yet are they alike praise-worthy. There is but one Art of casting in Brasse, in the which Myro, Polycletus, Lysippus have been excellent; and although the one did very much differ from the other, yet would you not have wished that any one of them should have differed from himselfe. There is but one Art & way of Painting, in the which although Zeuxis, Aglaophon, Apelles, differ very much, yet is there none among them all that seemeth to lacke any Art. As for the particular nature of the Artificers, it hath ever been so, that the livelinesse of great spirits cannot containe it selfe within the compasse of an or­dinary practice, but it will alwayes issue forth, whilest eve­ry one doth most readily expresse in his workes the inward motions of his most forward minde: so doe we also finde [Page 49] that the bravest Artists have spent their labour most pros­perously about such things as they did much delight in by a violent driving of their passion, or else by a quiet gui­ding of their Nature. Pausias, being exceedingly in love with his countrey-woman Glycera, left a most famous Picture, knowne every where by the name of Stephanoplo­cos, that is, a woman Garland-maker; and this hath ever been esteemed his best worke, because hee was enforced thereunto by the extremitie of his Passion. Plin. lib. xxi. nat. hist. cap. 2. Androcydes got a great deal of credit by the livelie similitude of the fishes painted round about Scylla; but seeing he was a great devourer of fish, it hath been also the judgement of these times in the which hee li­ved, that his unsatiable and greedy longing after fish did helpe him no lesse then any great Art he had. Plutarch Sympos. lib. iv, quaest. 2. as Parrhasius did professe by the whole course of his life, that hee was mightily given to sumptuous cloathes and lustfull pleasures, so were there al­so in his works evident markes of such a wanton luxurious mind to bee seen: witnesseth that same base piece of worke mentioned by Suetonius in the life of Tiberius Cap. 44.. Wee could relate here many more examples of excellent work­manship, in the which lust might seem to have had a hand as well as skill; if wee did not hasten to the consideration of such properties in severall artificers, as arose out of a well-ordered inclination of their mindes to one o other speciall way and manner of Art: leaving therefore the ma­nifold effects of inordinate lusts, wee shall insist only upon the following examples.

Although Callicles was renowned for little Pictures that did not exceed the bignes of 4. fingers, yet could hee never reach the height of Euphranor. Varro de vitâ populi Romani.

[Page 50] Lysippus is most of all to be commended for fine & queint workmanship; seeing hee observed in the least things a certaine kind of subtiltie. Plinius nat. hist. lib. xxxiv, cap. 8.

Polycletus had this propertie, that his statues most commonly did stand upon one legge. Plin. xxxiv, 8.

Apelles had a certaine grace of Art proper unto him­selfe alone, to the which never any other Artificer at­tained. Plin. xxxv, 10.

Theo Samius did excell in the conceiving of visions, the which are called phantasies. Quintil. orat. instit. lib. xii, cap. 10.

Dionysius painted nothing else but men; and for this reason hee was called Anthropographus. Plin. xxxv, 10.

Zeuxis did surpasse all other Artificers when it came to the picture of bodies of women. Cicero lib. ii. de In­ventione.

Polygnotus hath most rarely expressed the affections and passions of man. Aristot. de Art. poëticâ.

Antimachus and Athenodorus made Noble women. Apel­les made women devoutly praying. Plin. xxxiv, 8.

Nicias hath most diligently painted women: all crea­tures that walke upon foure feet are attributed unto him; yet hath hee most prosperously expressed dogges. Plin. xxxv, 11.

Calamis made chariots drawne with foure or two horses; the horses were done so exactly, that there was no place left for emulation. Propertius lib. iii, Eleg. 8. Plin. xxxiv, 8.

Euphranor seemeth first of all to have expressed the dig­nities and markes of Heroicall persons, saith Plinie, xxxv, [Page 51] 11. observe here in the mean time, that these Worthies or Heroicall persons were wont to weare skinnes of wilde beasts; see the old Scholiast upon Apollonius Rhodius: Ad versum 324. lib. I, Argonaut. Statius Papinius doth attribute a Lions skinne unto Ty­deus, and a wild Boares skinne unto Polynices; see him lib. I. Thebaid. vers. 397. yet because Hercules among all the other Worthies was most frequently made in a Lions skin, hence it is, that Tertullian De Pallio. calleth him Scytalosagittipel­liger not onely for bearing a club and arrowes, but also for wearing of the skinne. Hercules is made in a Lions skinne, saith Festus, that men might be put in mind of the ancient ha­bit: observe moreover that the ancient Worthies were most commonly painted bare-footed: pantofles, slippers, patens; saith Philostratus, In epistolà ad excalcea­tum adoles­centulum. are for sick and old folkes. Philocte­tes therefore is painted in them, as being lame and sick: where­as Diogenes and Crates, Ajax likewise and Achilles are painted unshod: Jason his one foot is shod, the other bare: seeing hee left one of his shoes in the mud, when he meant to passe over the river Anauros, &c. see Higynus in his twelfth fable: it proceedeth also from the same custome, when Valer. Maxi­mus relateth it as a strange thing that there was erected up­on the Capitoll a cloaked and shod statue of L. Scipio sur­named the Asiatick, who would have his image made in that habit, saith Valerius, Lib. III, cap. 6. because he had somtimes used it.

Apollodorus, Androbulus, Asclepiodorus, Alevas have pain­ted Philosophers. Plin. xxxiv, 8. and in their Pictures they took alwayes speciall care that every one of these Phi­losophers might be discerned by his proper marke: in the Areopagetick schooles, and in the Councell-house, saith Sido­nius Apollinaris, Lib. IX, epist. 9. there are painted Zeusippus with a crooked necke, Aratus with a necke bowed downward, Zeno with a wrinckled forhead, Epicurus with a smooth skinne, Diogenes [Page 52] with a hairie rough beard, Socrates with whitish bright haire, Aristotle with a stretched out arme, Xenocrates with a leg som­what gathered up, Heraclitus with his eyes shut for crying, De­mocritus with his lips opened for laughing, Chrysippus with his fingers pressed close together, for the signification of numbers, Euclides with his fingers put assunder for the space of mea­sures, Cleanthes with his fingers for both reasons gnawne a­bout.

Arestodemus made wrestlers. Plin. xxxiv, 8.

Serapion painted Scenes best of all. Plin. xxxv, 10.

Calaces got himselfe a great name by making little of comicall pictures. Plin. xxxv, 10.

Pyreicus, although he was in his Art inferiour to none, yet hath hee painted nothing but barbours and coblers shops. Plin. xxxv, 10.

Ludio did in the time of Augustus first of all insttute the most pleasant painting of walls with farme-houses, galle­ries, arbors, consecrated groves, forrests, hillocks, fish­ponds, inlets of waters, rivers, and uppn their banks hee was wont to paint such things as heart could wish; as name­ly, divers companies of them that did walke at the river side, or goe in boats, or else did ride to their countrie-houses with little asses or with carts: some spent their time in fish­ing, fowling, hunting, gathering of grapes for the presse: there were also in his Pictures farme-houses notable for a moorish comming to, and men ready to slippe whilest they carried upon their shoulders fearfully shrieking wo­men; with many more wittie and merrie conceits of that nature. This same Ludio hath also first of all devised to paint sea-Cities in open galleries, making a very fine and uncostly shew. Plin. xxxv, 10.

§. 2. Both busie themselves about the imitation of all [Page 53] sorts of things and actions: we see it daily how Poets and Painters do with a bold hand describe not onely the shapes of their devised Gods, demi-gods, Worthies, other ordina­ry men, but they strive also by a mutuall emulation to set forth the manifold actions of men: they doe represent the lascivious mirth of banquets, the toilesome pleasure of hun­ting, the bloudy outragiousnesse of fighting, the unevitable horror of ship-wrack, the lamentable and rufull sluttishnes of them that lie chained up in the deep night of a deadly dungeon. As for the Poëts alone, Poësie, sayth Lib. II de Idais, c. 10. Hermogenes, is an imitation of all kinde of things: and he is the best Poët, that can with a ready and full utterance of words imitate spea­king Orators, singing Musicians, with all other persons and things. Of Poëts and Painters both together are the follow­ing words of Philostratus In prooemio Iconum., Whosoever doth not embrace Pi­cture, sayth he, wrongeth the truth, he wrongeth also the wise­dome of the Poëts; seeing both are alike busie about the shapes and deeds of the Worthies. Dio Chrysostomus speaketh like­wise of both together; Painters and Carvers, sayth he Orat. XII., when they were to resemble the Gods, departed not one inch from the Poëts: not onely to shun the punishment offenders in such a kinde undergoe; but also because they saw themselves prevented by the Poëts, and that now the manner of Images made after their conceit went currant, as being upholden by antiquitie: neither would they seeme to be troublesome and unpleasant by lying novelties, but they have for the most part made their Ima­ges after the example of Poëts: Sometimes for all that have they added one or other thing of their own, professing themselves to have an emulation with Poëts about the same Art of imita­tion, endeavouring likewise to lay open before the eyes of more and poorer spectators, what Poëts have plainly rehearsed to the eares of men. Although now the words of Philostratus and [Page 54] Dio Chrysostomus may serve us for a sufficient proofe of that same great affinitie there is betwixt Painting and Poësie, yet hath Simonides expounded this point somewhat neatlier when he affirmeth that Picture is a silent Poësie, as Poësie is a speaking Picture: and upon occasion of these words sayth Plutarch Bellone an pace clario­res fuerint Athenienses., the things represented by Painters as if they were as yet adoing before our eyes, are propounded by Orators as done al­readie: seeing also that Painters doe expresse with colours what Writers doe describe with words; so is it that they doe but dif­fer in the matter and manner of Imitation, having both the same end: and he is the best Historian that can adorne his Nar­ration with such forcible figures and lively colours of Rheto­rike, as to make it like unto a Picture.

§ 3. Both doe wind themselves by an unsensible delight of admiration so closely into our hearts, that they make us in such an astonishment of wonder to stare upon the Imita­tion of things naturall, as if we saw the true things them­selves; in so much that we doe not love, though we finde our selves mis-led, to have this our joy interrupted, but we doe rather entertaine it with all possible care and studie. It would be an easie matter to shew this in all kinde of Poets, if Comicall and Tragicall poesie did not yeeld us a sufficient proofe of the certaintie of this point: for what are Comedies else, sayth one Comment. vet us in Ho­rat de Arte., but an Image of the life of man? of Trage­dies doth Gorgias also say very properly Apud Plu­tarchum de Poetis aud., that they are a kinde of deceit, by which the deceiver is more just then he that doth not use such deceit; and the deceived likewise is wiser then he that is not deceived. Of the sweet allurements of Picture, and how we suffer our hearts wittingly and willingly to be seduced and beguiled by the same, many examples might be alleadged here, if it were not generally knowne that a good Picture is nothing else in it selfe but a delusion of our eyes. [Page 55] This deceit, sayth Philostratus Philostr. ju­nior in pro­oemio Ico­num., as it is pleasant, so doth it not deserve the least reproach: for to be so possessed with things that are not, as if they were; and to be so led with them, as that wee (without suffering any hurt by them) should thinke them to be; cannot but be proper for the reviving of our minde, and withall free from all manner of blame. The reason, why we doe so much delight in the false similitude of naturall things, is set downe by Diogenes Laërtius: The Cyrenaïke Philosophers af­firme, sayth he Lib. II. in Aristippo., that pleasures are not engendred in our hearts by the bare seeing and hearing of things: and that we love there­fore to heare the outcries and dolefull howlings done in Imita­tion of a most heavie griefe; where on the contrarie wee doe de­test the true grones of a mournfull heart. If any one desireth further opening in this point, let him read in Plutarch a ve­ry faire passage concerning this matter, as it is set downe by that learned Author, Sympos. lib. v, problem. 1.

§ 4. Both doe hold the raines of our hearts, leading and guiding our Passions by that beguiling power they have, whithersoever they list. Of the Poëts sayth Horace Lib. II. Epist. 1., it see­meth to me that such a Poët is most like to walke upon a stret­ched out rope, the which doth torment and vex my thoughts a­bout matters of nothing; inchaunterlike angring, appeasing, and terrifying me with idle feares; conveying and at his plea­sure transporting me sometimes to Thebes, sometimes to A­thens. Saint Basil speaketh of both, Eloquent Writers and Painters, sayth he Homil. 40. martyr., doe very often expresse the warlike deeds of valiant men; and both do stirre vp a great many to courage; whilest the one studieth to set forth in lively colours, what the o­ther goeth about to adorne with eloquence: both then have a hidden force to move and compell our minds to severall Passions, but Picture for all that seemeth to doe it more ef­fectually; seeing things that sinke into our hearts by the means [Page 56] of our eares, sayth Nazarius In Panegy­rico., doe more faintly stirre our minde, then such things as are drunke in by the eyes. Polybius doth likewise affirme Lib. XII., that our eyes are more accurate wit­nesses then our eares: and it may be very well that Quintilian out of such a consideration hath drawne this same conclu­sion; Picture, sayth he Lib. XI. o­rat. institut. cap. 3., a silent worke, and constantly keep­ing the same forme, doth so insinnate it selfe into our most in­ward affections, that it seemeth now and then to be of greater force then Eloquence it selfe. Such as had suffered shipwracke understood this very well; for they did use to carry about the Picture of their sad mis-fortune, assuring themselves that the spectators could better be mooved to compassion by seeing the image of the miseries they had endured, then by hearing a most pittifull relation of the same. Such also as went to law about some great wrong offered them, were likewise wont to bring along the Picture of that same in­jurie, against which they meant to incense the Judge. Quint. orat. instit. VI, 1.

Wee may note a great ingenuitie in Latinus Pacatus, for after a full description of the miserable end of that same mutinous Maximus, he doth call upon all the Poets and Painters to assist him, even as if the whole strength of Rhe­torike he had used would come to nothing, unlesse they did bring their helping hands to it. Bring hither, bring hither, you pious Poëts, sayth he Panegyr. Theodo sio Aug. dicto., the whole care and studie of your learned nights; yee Artificers also despise the vulgar arguments of ancient fables; these, these things deserve better to be drawn by your cunning hands; let the market-places and the temples be graced with such sights; worke them out in ivorie, let them live in colours, let them stirre in brasse, let them augment the price of precious stones. It doth concerne the securitie of all ages that such a thing might seeme to have been done; if by chance any one [Page 57] filled with unlawfull hopes might drinke in innocence by his eyes, when he shall see the monuments of these our times. It is well said of Pacatus, that by looking upon such a picture ambitious men might through their eyes drinke in innocence; for Seneca doth most truely affirme Lib. II. de Irâ, cap. 2., that a horrible picture of the sad event of just punishments doth very much move and trouble our minds: neither doth the picture of a just revenge onely touch our hearts, but many other kindes of pictures will also search them after a most sudden and unexpected manner: witnesse that perplexitie Alexander the Great was in Photius in excerptis ex Ptolemaei He­phaestionis hi­storiâ. when at Ephesus he met by chance with a picture of the falsly accused and wrongfully executed Palamedes: for upon the sight of such a picture it was not in his power to resist, but Aristonicus would run into his troubled mind, as being likewise falsly and unjustly put to death. Saint Gregory Nys­sen after an ample and most patheticall relation of Isaac his sacrifice, hath added these words; I saw often in a picture, sayth he In oratione de Deitate Fi­lii & Sp. san­cti., the image of this fact, neither could I looke upon it without teares, so lively did Art put the historie before my eyes. Valerius Maximus having spoke of the pietie of Pero to­wards her old decrepit father, whom shee entring into pri­son suckled with her own brest, addeth these words Lib. V. c. 4. ex. ext. 1., men are driven into a dump, when their eyes doe behold the painted image of this fact, renewing the condition of the old adventure by an admiration of this present spectacle, and beleeving that in these silent lineaments of members they doe see living and breathing bodies.

There was at Athens an unthrifty and riotous young man, named Polemo, sayth the same Valerius Lib. VI. c. 9 ex. ext. 1., who did not one­ly take his delight in the flickering enticements of lust, but he did glory also in the infamie that followed such a luxu­rious and wanton course of life: this same Polemo, as he went [Page 58] homeward comming from a drink-feast, and that not at the setting, but at the rising of the Sunne, saw Xenocrates the Philosopher his doore open: and though he was deepe in drinke, besmeared with oyntments, having his head beset with garlands, clad in a thin and soft garment, yet did not he sticke to enter into the Philosophers schoole, that was fil­led with a multitude of learned men: neither contenting himselfe with such a foule entrance, he sate downe also, to the end that he might mocke that same rare eloquence and the most wise Precepts, with the sottish fopperies of drun­kennesse. Wherefore when there arose, as it was meet there should, a great chasing and fuming of all them that were present, Xenocrates changed his countenance nothing at all, but leaving the things in hand, he began to make his dis­course of modestie and temperance; so that Polemo, forced by the weightinesse of his speech, could not but recall him­selfe by little and little; for he first threw the garlands away having pulled them from his head, he afterwards drew his hand within his mantle, and in processe of time he quite left the cheerfulnes of a banquetting countenance, till at length having put away all his luxury, & being cured by the whol­some physicke of one discourse, he became a very great phi­losopher out of a shamefully deboist ruffian. In this relati­on Valerius maketh of the changed Polemo, it might seeme wonderfull that he could so quickly leave the cheerful­nesse of his banquetting countenance, if it had not been noted in this change of his by Nazianzene that there did al­wayes afterwards appeare in his face such a reverent shew of gravitie, that a naughty-packe by the sight of his picture onely hath beene touched to the quicke, giving over her lewd and wanton pleasures. A dissolute young man, sayth Nazianzene Carm. jamb XVIII, quod est de virtute., had appointed a quean to come to his house; [Page 59] but shee comming neere the porch, and casting by chance her eyes upon the venerable picture of Polemo, drew in­stantly backe, reverencing the image of so grave a philoso­pher a great deale more then shee would have done the phi­losopher himselfe.

§ 5. Both doe shew their strength in great and eminent men, deifying or at least eternising all them whose names and shapes they doe vouchsafe to bequeathe unto posteri­tie. Of the Poëts sayth Synesius. Epist. 49., God hath given unto Poë­sie the distributing of a glorious renowne. Ovid likewise spea­king of the same, cloathes doe weare out, sayth he Amorū lib. I Eleg. 10., jewels doe breake; but the fame Poësie giveth us, shall be of a perpetuall durance. And againe, vertue is proragated by Poësie, sayth he Lib. IV. de Ponto, E­leg. 8., neither needs it feare the sepulcher, having once deserved the memorie of late posterities. Gods also, if we might say it, are made by Poësie, and such a majestie standeth in need of a sin­ger. Of the Painters sayth Latinus Pacatus In Panegy­rico., the Artifioers are next unto the Poëts allotted to give an everlasting fame. Plinie doth speake in the like manner of the Art of Pain­ting, it is to be wondred in this Art, sayth he Lib. xxxiv. nat. hist. cap. 8. that shee hath made famous men more famous. Ovid goeth somewhat fur­ther, if Apelles had not painted Venus for the Inhabitants of Coos, sayth he Lib. III. de Arte., shee should as yet lie drowned under the Sea­water. The Emperour Augustus fastened into the wall of the Councell-house at Rome a picture done by Philochares; the admiration of that same piece did chiefly consist in that wonderfull similitude which was between a young stripling and his old Father; for they were so like one another, the difference of their age for all that remaining, as it could not be possible to imagine a neerer similitude between father and sonne. So is then the power of this same Art exceeding great, sayth Plinie Lib. xxxv. nat. hist. cap. 4., though wee doe but cast our eyes upon this [Page 60] one piece onely: for by Philochares his means doth both the Se­nate and the people of Rome looke so many ages upon Glaucio and his sonne Aristippus, the which else would have been a most ignoble and obscure couple.

§ 6. Both are most of all advanced by the ready help of a strong and well-exercised Imagination: the Art of Painting, sayth the younger Philostratus In prooemio Iconum., is found to be a kin to Poësie; seeing both do therein agree, that as well the one as the other re­quireth a forward Phantasie. The Poëts bring the presence of the Gods upon a stage, and all what is pompous, grave, and delight­full. The Painters likewise doe designe as many things upon a boord, as the Poets possibly can utter. So doth then the Art of Painting as well as Poesie relie upon a generous and bold strength of Imagination, so that they will no more creepe and crawle to feele and to follow the steppes of them that are gone before, but they take upon themselves to trie it somewhat further, if by chance they might be esteemed worthy to lead others the way. The Poëts impelled by the sudden heate of a thoroughly stirred Phantasie, or rather transported as by a propheticall traunce, doe cleerely be­hold the round rings of prettily dancing Nymphs, together with the ambushes of lurking lecherous Satyrs: they see all kinde of armour and unbridled horses with their tossed and tottered waggons; the shape of one or other God doth som­times runne in their minde, yea they doe very often espie the snaky-headed Furies tearing their own heads and thru­sting a hand-full of hissing serpents into the faces of ill-min­ded bloud-thirstie men. The Poëticall phantasies, sayth one in Plutarch In Erotico., in regard of their perspicuitie, are like dreames of them that are awake. With Poëts howsoever so it is, that their minds being once in agitation cannot containe them­selves any longer, but out it must whatsoever they have con­ceived; [Page 61] it is not possible for them to rest, untill they have eased their free spirit of such a burden, powring out the fulnesse of their jolly conceits by strange fetches of by­wayes, by the unexpected ministery of a favourable God, and a thousand other fabulous inventions. When Ovid doth describe that same temerary ladde that foolishly longed to tread upon his Fathers fiery chariot, would you not thinke then that the Poët stepping with Phaëton upon the waggon hath noted from the beginning to the endievely particular accident which could fall out insuch a horrible confusion? neither could he ever have conceived the least shadow of this dangerous enterprise, if he had not been as if it were present with the unfortunate youth: he beholdeth first the impatient horses standing as yet within the barres, how by treading and trampling they do spend before the race thou­sand and thousand steppes to no purpose: afterwards doth he see the vaine stripling skip upon the waggon, and with a brave undaunted looke drive on, till the fierce winged beasts perceiving the impotency of their new Master throw the unexperienced waggoner headlong downe with wag­gon and all. But seeing it would be a very hard taske for me, yea and too much arrogancy in me that I should strive to expresse any part of the abundance of conceit the ancient Poëts had, I must needs remit the studious Reader to Ovid himselfe, for whosoever doth but marke how Ovid goeth a­bout the fable of Phaëton; and how other Poëts likewise do handle other matters in that kinde, he shall questionlesse both with pleasure and profit understand what vehement and sensible Imaginations they have followed; and that without such a force of phantasie the whole labour of their braines will be but a heavie, dull, and life-lesse piece of worke. Painters in like manner doe fall to their worke [Page 62] invited and drawne on by the tickling pleasure of their nimble Imaginations; for lighting upon some Poëticall or Historicall argument, sometimes also upon an inven­tion wrought out by their owne Phantasie, they doe first of all passe over every circumstance of the matter in hand, considering it seriously, as if they were pre­sent at the doing, or saw it acted before their eyes: whereupon feeling themselves well filled with a quick and lively imagination of the whole worke, they make haste to ease their overcharged braines by a speedie pourtraying of the conceit. It is then in vaine an Artificer should hope to be both powerfull and perspicuous, unlesse he doe alwayes propound unto himselfe the worke in hand as if all were present, and that principally when he is to expresse any thing wherein he meeteth with some notable Affecti­ons and Passions of the minde: for seeing that these are some­times true, sometimes fuinell and imitated, saith Quintilian, Orat. insti­tut. lib. XI, cap. 3. so falleth it out that the true ones doe breake forth naturally, as wee see in the Passions of them that conceive any griefe, or anger; or indignation; but they want Art; and therefore are they to befashioned and directed by discipline: contrarywise the Passions imitated have Art, but want nature; and there­fore is it here a maine point, to have a true feeling of them, rightly to conceive the true images of things, and to be mooved with them, as if they were rather true then imagined: so are then these commotions of our mind by all means to be drawne out of the truth of nature: and it standeth an Arti­ficer upon it, rather to trie all what may be tried, then to marre the vigorous force of a fresh and warme Imaginati­on by a slow and coole manner of Imitation: the player Polus practised this in another occasion very fitly, for be­ing to act at Athens atragedie of Sophocles, in the which hee [Page 63] should represent the distressed Electra, as shee was carrying in anurne the dead bones of her brother Orestes, whom she supposed to be departed; he devised how to fill the theater, not with an affectation of weeping and wailing, but with true and naturall teares; for having digged up the bones of a deare sonne of his that was lately dead, and bringing them upon the stage in stead of Orestes his bones, hee found himselfe forced to play the mourner after a most complete and lively manner. Agell. noct. Attir. lib. vii. cap. 5. Yet must not the Artificers here give too much scope to their own wittes, but make with Dionysius Longinus De sublimi oratione, §. 2. so me difference between the Imaginations of Poets that doe in­tend onely an astonished admiration, and of Painters that have no other end but Perspicuitie. Wherefore saith the same author in another place, §. 13. what the Poets conceive, hath most commonly a more fabulous excellencie and altogether sur­passing the truth; but in the phantasies of Painters, nothing is so commendable as that there is both possibilitie and truth in them. Seeing then it hath been proved in our former dis­course, that not Poëts only, but Painters also receive great benefit by a continuall exercise of their Phantasie, it may likewise be gathered from thence what need both have to cherish such a good and trustie nourse of profitable con­ceits: for although it be a very hard thing, saith Dio Chrysosto­mus Orat. XII., yet is it very often required that the same image should remaine in the minde of an Artificer, and that sometimes for many yeeres, untill the whole worke be finished so may wee also gather from thence the true reason why Dionys. Longi­nus affirming §. 13. that Perspicuitie is the chiefest thing [...]r Phantasie aimeth at, doth furthermore adde, that [...] the helpe of that same Perspicuitie doth seeme to obtaine easily of a man what shee forceth him to, and though shee [Page 64] doth ravish the minds and hearts of them that view her workes; yet doe they not feel themselves violently carri­ed away, but thinke themselves gently led to the liking of what they see: neither can it bee otherwise: for as the Ar­tificers that doe goe about their workes filled with an ima­gination of the presence of things, leave in their workes a certaine spirit drawne and derived out of the contemplati­on of things present; so is it not possible but that same spi­rit transfused into their workes, should likewise prevaile with the spectatours, working in them the same impression of the presence of things that was in the Artificers them­selves. And this is questionlesse that same Perspicuitie, the brood and only daughter of Phantasie, so highly commen­ded by Longinus, for whosoever meeteth with an evident and clear sight of things present, must needs bee mooved as with the presence of things.

Having now spoken at large of the manifold fruits the Artificers reape out of the continuall exercise of their Ima­ginative facultie; it remaineth that wee should shew how they have need to stir up all the powers of fancie that are in them, that would view the works of excellent masters with the contentment of a sound and well-grounded judgment.


NO man hath ever beene able to conceive the miracles of these Arts that doe meddle with the imitation of all things, unlesse hee enjoy­ing his hearts ease, hath likewise now and then holpen this same delicate studie of a most busie contemplation by the secresie of a retired and more so­litarie [Page 65] place. None are more curious then such as are at lei­sure, saith the younger Plinius Lib, IX. epist. 32.. Poësie doth require retired­nesse of the writer and leisure, saith Ovid Lib. I. Trist. Eleg. 1.: wee may adde very well, that not Poëts only, but such also as meane to reade Poëts with good attention, and such likewise as de­sire to looke upon choice Pictures, and excellent Statues with a sound judgement (to adde this same propertie also to the comparing of Poëts and Painters handled immedi­ately before) have great need of retirednesse: the multi­tudes of necessary duties and affaires doe withdrawe and turn all men from the contemplation of such things, saith Pli­nie Lib. xxxvi. nat. histor. cap. 5., because such an admiration is only agreeable with lei­sure and a great stilnesse of place: the reason is at hand, and may be drawne out of our former discourse, where we doe shew that solitary and silent places doe mightily helpe and nourish our Phantasie, the only means Artificers doe worke, and lovers of Art doe judge by: seeing also that a perfect and accurate admirer of Art is first to con­ceive the true Images of things in his minde, and after­wards to applie the conceived Images to the examination of things imitated, it is cleare that neither of these can bee performed without the Imaginative facultie, that likewise the framing and fashioning of Images advanceth very lit­tle when it is every day interrupted by ordinary businesses and the noise of them that doe runne up and downe: wee see therefore that many grave and serious well-willers of Art, when they can obtain some dayes free from importu­nate visits, doe never leave to employ their spare-times a­bout the conceiving and gathering of most absolute Ima­ges of things naturall. Phantasie, saith Michael Ephesius, In Aristot. de Memoriâ & reminis­centiâ. is like a register unto our minde: meeting then with one or other master peece that seemeth to deserve their care [Page 66] and consideration, they find alwayes in this register of theirs a true Image of the thing imitated: such as doe con­template the workes of the Art of painting, saith Apollonius, Apud Phi­lost. lib. II. cap. 10. have great need of the imaginative facultie; for no body can with any good reason praise a painted horse or bull, unlesse hee doe conceive that same creature in his mind, whose similitude the Picture doth expresse. Although now the alledged rea­son doth aboundantly commend retirednesse unto them that would willingly fit themselves to this exercise, yet is there another reason alike important that doth perswade us to the same: for as Physicians are not only to marke ap­parant infirmities, but they are also to find our secret dis­tempers, the nature of the diseased being so that they doe sometimes studie to hide them; so must he that is to judge of Pictures espie and search into many things that do not shew themselves at the first view: now it is most certaine that retirednesse doth most of all helpe our judgement, and that our judgement in a multitude of lookers on is very of­ten shaken and weakened by the favourable acclamations of them that praise and extoll every indifferent worke; see­ing wee are sometimes ashamed to disagree with them that very confidently pretend to know it better; whereas in the meane time faultie things are most liked; besides that flat­terers praise also what they doe not like at all; perverse judgements at last will not commend what deserveth com­mendation.

§. 2. As manie therefore as resolve to follow this same contemplation earnestly, doe sometimes purposely take certaine Images of things conceived, and turne them ma­ny wayes, even as one lumpe of waxe useth to be wrought and altered into a hundred severall fashions and shapes: but principally do they labor to store up in their Phantasie [Page 67] the most compleat Images of beautie. Such Artificers as worke in brasse and colours receive out of the naturall things themselves those notions by the which they do imi­tate the outward lineaments, light, shadows, risings, fal­lings; they pick out of every particular body the most ex­cellent marks of true beautie, and bestow them upon some one body: so that they seem not to have learned of Nature, but to have strived with her, or rather to have set her a law. For who is there, I pray you, that can shew us such a com­pleat beautie of any woman, but a quick-sighted Judge will easily find in her somthing wherein she may be esteemed to come short of true perfection? For although the whole ab­solutenesse of perfection doth consist in the rules and di­mensions of Nature; yet doth the commixtion of both parents, the constitution of the place, aire, and season ve­ry often detract somthing from the naturall forme: seeing then that Artificers themselves doe not borrow the Image or patern of a most excellent beautie from one particular worke of Nature; so is it likewise requisite, that Lovers and Well-willers of Art should not content themselves with the contemplation of any one particular body, but that they should rather cast their eyes upon severall bodies more exactly made by Nature, observing in them the diffe­rences of age, sexe, condition: and you shall seldome see them rest here, but they will fixe their eyes also upon many other naturall bodies, studying alwayes to enrich their Phantasie with lively impressions of all manner of things. They doe marke the wide heaven beset with an endlesse number of bright and glorious starres; the watery clouds of severall colours, together with the miraculously painted raine-bow; how the great Lampe of light up-rearing his flaming head above the earth, causeth the dawning day to [Page 68] spread a faint and trembling light upon the flichering gil­ded waves; how the fiery glimmering of that same glori­ous eye of the world, being lessened about noon-tide, les­neth the shadowes of all things; how darksome night be­ginneth to display her coal-black curtain over the bright­est skie, dimming the spacious reach of heaven with a shady dampe: they observe likewise the unaccessable height of the mountaines, with their ridge somtimes extended a good way, somtimes cut off suddenly by a craggie and steep abruptnesse; pleasant arbors and long rowes of lofty trees, clad with summers pride, and spreading their clasp­ing armes in wanton intricate wreathings; thick woods, graced between the stumpes with a pure and grasse-greene soile, the beames of the Sunne here and there breaking thorough the thickest boughes, and diversly enlightning the shadie ground: gently swelling hillocks; plaine fields; rich meadowes; divers flowers shining as earthly starres; fountaines gushing forth out of a main rock, sweet brooks running with a soft murmuring noise, holding our eyes open with their azure streames, and yet seeking to close our eyes with the purling noise made among the pebble­stones; low and smoakie villages; stately cities, taking pride in the turrets of their walls, and threatning the cloudes with the pinnacles of their spear-like steeples. They doe consider in Lions, horses, eagles, snakes, and all other creatures, wherein the absolute perfection of their shapes doth consist: propounding unto themselves like­wise parliaments, sacrifices, festivall meetings and daun­cings, husbandrie-worke, smiths forges, foot-men run­ning a race, fishers, sailers putting off from the shore, or else landing, faire and foul weather, the sea calme and boisterous, great armies of men, depopulations of the [Page 69] countrie, surprisings of cities, and whatsoever useth to fall out in an expugnation of a great and populous towne: whole troupes of armed men, having broake up the citie gates, and throwne downe a good part of the walls, run through the towne after a most tumultuous manner, and cause every where a trepidation like unto a ruine, whilest with sword and fire they do promiscuously destroy things sacred and profane: the crackling noise in the meane time of the houses that are a pulling downe doth encrease the feare: the crie also out of the severall voices of them that doe fright and are frighted, the noise of rumbling drummes and shrill trumpets, the shouting of them that doe over­come, the wailing of them that are overcome, together with the weeping of women and children, one sound be­ing made up out of divers clamours, doth confound all: and yet seemeth all this lamentable noise to be deafned by the shrieking and howling of such mothers as are in dan­ger to have their tender infants snatched out of their armes, as also by the flocking together of great companies of distressed women, that running sometimes after one sometimes after another doe nothing but aske their hus­bands, brothers, sonnes, what destinies they doe meane to leave them to, there being every where nothing else to be seen but cruell desolation, griefe, feare, and a certaine image of present death and destruction: the sight of the publike calamitie is of severall sorts, uncertaine, foule, ho­rid: the conquerers shew themselves to be conquered by severall lusts, every one thinking it lawfull whatsoever hee hath a mind to, and none of them all holding any thing unlawfull: no dignitie, no age can hinder them but that they will adde rapes to murders, and murders to rapes: the armed men, and all such as be of age to beare armes, [Page 70] are cut in pieces: brothers and sisters are pulled asunder whilst they doe rush to take their leaves by a mutuall and never more looked for embracement: aged men unto whom it had been happier to have met with a timely death, old decayed women also in whom there is left nothing a greedy and lustfull enemy should prey upon, are haled and pulled for meere sport: and if there falleth by chance a ripe virgin into the hands of the insolent conquerours, shee is in danger to be torne in pieces by them, till they among them­selves by the eagernes of striving fall together by the eares, not so much as perceiving that another company of ravish­ers cometh upon them readie both to dispatch them and to carry the maid violently away: some despising the things that are alreadie in their power, goe about to finde out by wounding and tormenting the owners what they suppose to be concealed; they search every darke hole and secret corner, with burning torches in their hands; least, having carried out all the spoile, they should want ready meanes to set the emptied houses a-fire. You cannot cast your eyes any where, but you shall meet with whole droves of chained captives: the streets are every where strawed over with packes contemned by avarice in comparison of some better things it met withall by the way: armed, unarmed, boyes, horses, weapons, men, women, houshold-stuffe, enemies, citizens, all are mixed together: nothing is done by advice and counsell. Fortune carrieth the greatest sway: the sad aspect of the fatall houre cannot but moove the hearts of some angry conquerors to compassion; whilest others wea­ried with slaughters set themselves downe, the occasions to exercise their anger upon, and not their anger, failing them; for they doe still looke about with a sterne countenance, if they could espie any frighted soules come neere them by an [Page 71] unprovident flight: but the greater part of them being growne senselesse by the horrible fight of fire and murders, can neither see, nor heare, nor forecast any thing; their pri­vate agonies also being stupified by the publike calamities, they exspect the enemy in their owne houses, being obsti­nately resolved to die in the middest of the dearest delights of their life: the most valiant in the mean time having con­firmed their courage with a generous desperation doe pro­voke the thickest throngs of the incensed enemies by shew­ing and offering their own naked throats unto them; and being once thoroughly enraged with the last madnesse of dying men, wheresoever the fight taketh them, there they do resist, content yea desirous to die in the revenge of their ruinated Country: some that meane to scape, runne into their own death and destruction: others that would faine renew the fight, are against their wills carried away by the violence of a flying multitude. Thus leaving their sweet home where they were borne and bred, they cannot but sometimes stay a little and look about, very loath to part; neither should they have any power to stirre one foot from the place, unlesse feare of having their throats cut did make them understand that they had best, the publike miseries being past redresse, steale away and follow their own ad­vice, their private hopes, without looking after any guide or any consent of desolate multitudes: they meet at length in the gates, where they are heaped one upon another, a great number of them being throwne downe not onely by slaughter and a faint wearinesse of fighting and running, but also by crowding and striving to get out first: men and horses, wounded and unwounded, living and dead, swords and pikes, bundles also of precious things make all but one heape stopping up the gates: neither doe the others that [Page 72] follow, beare so much respect either to the living or dead, but that they tread and trample upon them to make them­selves away: without the gates there is a sad and miserable company of them that are scaped to be seen, filling the wayes with a dolefullamentation, as if but now they had got some leisure to be waile their own misfortunes, the sight of so ma­ny afflicted ones provoking teares by a mutuall miseration. But here also presenteth it selfe in the open fields a great and fearefull spectacle: some fierce conquerours, not abiding any should scape, are instantly at their heeles, persecuting, wounding, taking and killing them they tooke when others were offered: there lie every where scattered upon the blou­dy ground all manner of weapōs, dead bodies, whole joynts cut off: and wheresoever valour and anger reentring into the minds of some of the conquered, cause them to disdaine that a few by so hot a pursuit should drive them like sheep, there is for a short while a desperate fight manfully maintai­ned; till they see more and stronger bands of enemies ap­proaching: for then do they begin to leave their anger, and remembring their present fortunes they do take their flight, running with one breath unto remote and unaccessible pla­ces; not in great troupes, as before, but every one by him­selfe alone, yea purposely shunning one another, least their flocking and running together should still draw the ene­mies after them.

§ 3. It appeareth now what care the well-willers of Art use to take about the exercising & preparing of their phan­tasie, seeing they do by a most accurat Imagination designe and make up in their mindes the compleat pictures of all kind of naturall things; and being thus provided, they doe very often examine the works of great Artificers with bet­ter successe then the Artists themselves, the severitie and [Page 73] integritie of whose judgements is often weakened by the love of their owne and the dislike of other mens workes. As for the common sort of people, of them saith a certaine Painter very well in Plutarch In ipso sta­tim initio li­belli de Socra­tis genio., that rude spectators and such as are nothing at all acquainted with matters of Art, are like them that salute a great multitude at once; but that neat spe­ctators on the contrarie, and such as are studious of good Arts, may be compared with them that salute one by one: the first namely doe not exactly looke into the workes of the Artificers, but conceive onely a grosse and unshapen image of the workes; where the others going judiciously over every part of the worke; looke upon all and observe all what is done well or ill. De Optimo genere orato­rum. Tullie doth call this same facultie of our mind intelligens judicinm, that is, an intelligent judgement. We learne likewise out of the same Author Lib. IV. in Verrem. that Lovers and well-willers of Art were named elegantes, that is, neat and polished men; and that they on the contrary were called idiotae, that is, idiots, the which had no skill at all and did not care for the delicacy of rare workes: how many things doe Painters see in the shadows and eminences, sayth Tullie Lib. IV. A­cadem. quaest., the which wee cannot see? Where­fore, as that kinde of hearing that doth onely discerne the sound, sayth Epictetus Arriani E­pictetus lib. III. cap. 6., may very well be called the common hearing; and the hearing that doth discerne the tunes, is now no more a common but an artificiall hearing; so is there also great diffe­rence of seeing: the sight of one man is better by nature, sayth Plutarch De Amore, apud Stobaeū Serm. de Ve­nere & amo­re., then the sight of another: so are likewise the minds of Painters by Art exercised to discerne beautie in all kinde of shapes and figures. Nicomachus therfore hath very fitly answe­red an idiot, that could see no beautie in that same famous He­lena painted by Zeuxis, Take my eyes, sayd Nicomachus, and you shal think her to be a goddesse. Aelianus Var. histor. lib. XIV. cap. 47. doth attribute this same apophthegme to Nicostratus: it doth then appeare that [Page 74] it is not enough wee should have eyes in our head as other men have, but it is also required here that we should bring to these curiosities eruditos oculos, that is, learned eyes, as Tullie termeth them, Parad. 5.

§. 4. Although now a man doth not at the first bring to these Arts sufficiently exercised eyes, yet is he not instantly to be excluded from the most delicate contemplation of Art; seeing a man altogether unskilfull in such curiosities, may very well feel the delight of them, though he cannot give an exact account of his liking. The vertue and grace shi­ning in all the worke, sayth Dionysius Halicarnassensis In Lysiâ., is a most wonderfull thing, and surpassing the power of speaking. What is best, is easie to be seene, and lieth open as well to the Artist as to the idiot: but to shew the reason thereof is very hard, and uneasie also to them that are very eloquent. If there­fore any one desire to be taught by words wherin this same power of the worke doth consist, doth not he goe about to aske a reason of many other faire things that are hard to be uttereds as name­ly, in the beautie of bodies, what it is we call cometinesse: in the turning and winding of a melodious voice, what it is we call a perfect harmonte: in the symmetrie or just commensuration of time, what it is we call an orderly concent of voices: and gene­rally in every worke, and in every thing, what it is we call a well-moderated and seasonable opportunitie of time: for every one of these things is apprehended by sense, and not by talke. Quintilian propoundeth the summe of all this in fewer words; the learned, sayth he Orat. instit. lib. IX. c. 4., understand the reason of Art, the unlearned feele the pleasure: hence it is that both are alike affected with copiousnesse and defects; both are alike offen­ded with abruptnesse; softnesse doth take them both, and forciblenesse doth stirre them both alike; both approve of steadinesse, finde out lamenesse, and loathe all manner of [Page 75] excessivenesse. It is strange, sayth Tullie Lib. III. de Oratore., there being so great a difference of working between the skilfull and unskilfull, that there should be so small a difference of Judging. The same Au­thor sayth againe in the same place; All do by a silent feeling without any art or reason discerne what there is well or amisse in the Arts: they doe the same also in Pictures and Statues, and other workes, to the which by nature they are not sufficiently in­structed.

§. 5. It is then most cleare and evident that such men al­so as are altogether unskilfull in these Arts, may admire the workes of rare Artificers, although they cannot exactly judge of them. As for the first; every one, sayth Symmachus Lib. I. E­pist. 23., may consider the vertues of other men: for Phydias his Olym­pian Jupiter, and Myron his heyfer, and Polycletus his cane­phorae, have been admired by them that were ignorant in this Art: the nature of understanding goeth a great deal further: and rare things should not have that same generall approbation they doe deserve, if the feeling of good things did not touch them also that are inferiours. So sayth the same Author againe in another place Lib. VIII. Epist. 22., the fame of great men should want celebritie, if shee did not content her selfe also with ordinarie witnesses: the words of Dionysius Halicarnassensis are worth noting; I have learned, sayth he De Compo­sit. nominum., in most populous Theaters filled with great multitudes of them that had no skill in Musicke, how all have a naturall prouenesse and aptnesse to that same proportio­nable concent we finde in a melodious harmonie, the people cry­ing out upon avery renowned Musician when he did spoile his song by stirring but one string that was not well tuned; a most skilfull piper also suffering the same, when piping untunably, or pressing his mouth carelesly, he did seeme to fall into an un­pleasant kinde of play: for if any one should bid an idiot take the instruments and mend what he blameth in the Artificers, he [Page 76] should never be able to doe it; seeing that is the worke of skill, which all have not; where as the other is the worke of passion or feeling, and Nature hath denyed that to none. As for the se­cond; Anacharsis had good cause to wonder, as Laërtius re­porteth Lib. I. de Vitis Philos, how the Artificers in Greece did strive, and such as were no Artificers did judge. It is true that he did speake this about their gymnike exercises, neverthelesse, it hath place also in these Arts of Imitation; seeing there is very of­ten in the same something of deeper consideration. Mecho­panes was liked for a certain kinde of diligenc, that none could understand, but the Artificers alone, sayth Plinie Lib. xxxv. nat. hist. c. 1.. To make up a statue as is fit, sayth Epictetus Arriani E­pictetus li. II. cap. 24., whose worke doe you take it to be? it is the worke of a statuarie: but to looke skilfully upon such a worke, doe you thinke it requireth no skill at all? cer­tainly it requireth skill also. Hermogenes doth urge the same, to know how to judge of other mens workes, sayth he Lib. I. de Formis ora­tionum., so farre forth as they are neat and accurat or not, whether likewise they are an ancient or a modern worke, cannot be done without some experience in such matters. The younger Plinie sayth also expresly Lib. I, E­pist. 10., none but an Artificer can judge of a Painter, Car­ver, Caster in brasse, or worker in clay. Observe in the meane time, that in these words of Plinie we must understand by the name Artificer, not such a workman onely as doth really paint and carve, but such a Lover and well-willer of Art as by a rare and well-exercised Imaginative facultie, is able to conferre his conceived Images with the Pictures and Sta­tues that come neerest unto Nature, and is likewise able to discerne by a cunning and infallible conjecture the severall hands of divers great Masters out of their manner of work­ing. To the triall of Picture, sayth Tullie De Optimo genere orato­rum., there is also use made of them that have some skill in judging, though they are altogether ignorant in doing. The same Orator sayth againe [Page 77] in another place De Oratore, if I were to speak of a player, and did main­taine that he cannot give satisfaction in his gestures without some skill of well-behaving himselfe and dancing; there is no need that I my selfe, for saying so, should be a player; but it is e­nough that I doe shew my selfe a discreet censurer of another mans work. Plutarch doth attribute unto the great and good Aratus of Sicyon a learned judgement in Pictures. Vindex likewise, a most noble Romane, is highly commended by Statius Papinius or his rare judgement in all kinde of Art, who dareth ever strive with Vindex, sayth he Lib. IV. Sylv., to discerne the old drawings of the Artificers, and to restore his Author unto such statues as have no inscription? he shall shew you what brasse Myron be laboured with a watchfull diligence: what marble got life by the carving-iron of the laborious Praxiteles: what ivo­rie was smoothed by Phydias: what statues doe as yet retaine the breathing infused into them by Polycletus his furnaces: what line doth a farre off confesse the ancient Apelles: for Vin­dex doth follow this pastime, as often as he layeth downe his Lute: the love of such things doth call him sometimes a little aside from the habitation of the Muses.

§ 6. There are every where in our age also a great many of noble descent and eminent places, who having made an end of their urgent affaires, doe after the example of this same Vindex recreate themselves in the contemplation of the divine workes of excellent Artificers, not onely weigh­ing and examining by a secret estimation what treasures of delight and contentment there are hidden in them, but sometimes also viewing and examining therein every little moment of Art with such infatigable though scrupulous care that [...]o is easie to be perceived they do not acknowledg any greater pleasure. I doe not count him free, that doth not sometimes doe nothing; and the true fruit of leisure is not a [Page 78] continuall bending of the minde, but a relaxation, sayth Tul­lie Lib. II. de Oratore.; yet are the wits worne out by a daily toile about civill af­faires, most of all repaired by the sweetnesse of such like things, sayth Quintilian Orat. Instit. lib. X. cap. 1.. Even as men that are used to a daily course of labour, when they are hindred from following their worke by reason of tempestuous weather, doe passe their time with a ball, cockall, dice, or else devise themselves at their owne leisure some other game; so doe they that are excluded from the worke of publike affaires, either by the iniquitie of times, or else by granting unto themselves some holy-dayes, follow altogether the delight of Poësie, Geometrie, Musicke, sometimes also finding out some new studie and play, sayth Tullie Lib. III. de Oratore.: for as grounds are much the better for the change of sever all feeds, sayth the younger Plinie Lib. VII. Epist. 9., so are our wits refreshed somtimes with one, sometimes with another meditation.

§. 7. That the lively spirits of eminent men are most of all drawn by the sweetnesse of this delight, doth deserve no admiration. Whatsoever is faire, is able also to stirre a stone, sayth Epictetus Arriani E­pict. lib. III. cap. 23.. The beautie of the bodie moveth our eyes by a decent composition of the limmes, sayth Tullie Lib. I. de Officiis. vide quoque Iso­cratem in Helenae en­comio., affoording us the greatest delight, because all parts doe agree among them­selves with a pleasant comelinesse. Aristotle being asked wherefore men doe love faire things, answered, This is a blind mans question Laert. lib. V. & Stobaeus Serm. de Lau­de pulchritu­dinis.. Although now fairenesse of beauti­full bodies doth very much take our mindes, yet are wee more ravished by an accurat Imitation of this same beauty: for our thoughts cheered up and elevated by the contem­plation of an absolute Imitation of perfect beautie, cannot containe themselves any longer, they doe leape as it were for joy, being extolled with the gallant bravery of what the eye beholdeth; not otherwise rejoycing in the good suc­cesse of Art, then if all we doe see were the worke of our [Page 79] owne hands. Whosoever wrastleth with brasse or iron, taming Nature by Art, doth bestow the discipline upon the lovers of Art, teaching them by what methods brasse is made obnoxious to our wills, sayth Saint Basil Basilius Se­leuciae episco­pus, orat. xiv.. Such as doe view the beautie of statues, feele their eyes held by what they saw first: but other­while turning their sight upon some other parts, they beginne to doubt what they had best consider first, sayth Hiemerius Apud Pho­tium.. Our sight viewing cast workes, pictures, carved workes, and such like things made by the hand of men, when it findeth the sweet­nesse, and beautie that is in them, contenteth it selfe and desireth nothing more, sayth Dionys. Halicarnassensis De Compos. nominum.. Seeing then that in the contemplation of the rare workes of Art, we are not so much taken with the beautie it selfe, as with the suc­cesfull boldnesse of Art provoking Nature to a strife, it fal­leth out that not onely the Imitation of faire but of foule things also doth recreate our mindes, We love to see a pain­ted Lizard, sayth Plutarch De Poetis audiendis., or an Ape, or the face of Thersi­tes; not for any beautie there is in them, but in regard of the si­militude: for though every foule thing by nature is hindred from seeming faire; yet is the Imitation alwayes commended, whether shee doth expresse the similitude of things foule or faire. See also the same Plut. lib. v. Sympos. probl. 1. where he doth instance more upon this point.

§. 8. Idiots then and such as never felt the power of these Arts, may very well cease to wonder what maketh great and vigorous wits sticke so close to the contemplation of Pi­ctures and Statues; seeing it is most certaine, that the satie­tie of good things is not so easily attained unto, sayth Symma­chus Lib. IV. Epist. 16., and things delightfull doe then most of all sollicite our minde when they seeme to fill it. Teastie and ambitiously se­vere censurers also have but small reason to finde fault with such great and wealthy men as with an excessive cost do buy [Page 80] for strife all manner of Art, valuing the rare works of great Masters according to the delight & contentment they find in them. I am of opinion, sayth Tullie Lib. IV. in Verrem., where he speaketh of the workes of Art, that we are to consider those things as they are esteemed in their judgments that are studious of such things. Neither is it unlikely that brave and generous men some­times might resolve of their owne accord to raise the price of Pictures and Statues, because they could not endure that such honest and innoxious delights should be generally con­demned and contemned; it seemeth therefore that they have followed the praise-worthy course taken by Apelles, when it did grieve him to see how little the rare workes of Protogenes were regarded at Rhodes. The Rhodians, sayth Plinie Nat. hist. lib. xxxv. cap. 10., made very small account of Protogenes, as domesti­call things use alwayes to be slighted. Wherefore when Apelles asked him the price of his workes, he set them upon a very poore price; but Apelles offered him fiftie talents, noising abroad that he bought them to sell them for his owne workes. This same fact made the Rhodians to understand their owne Artificer. Neither would Apelles yeeld unto them, till they had raised the price.

§ 9. Whosoever therefore had rather lay out his monies upon honest and harmlesse occasions, then to waste his pa­trimony with the mad sport of dicing and all other kind of luxury, doth not deserve any blame. The great Captaine Marcellus, as it is reported by Plutarch in his life, having conquered Syracuse, filled the Citie of Rome first of all with the knowledge of Greeke delicacies: and when others did reprehend him for doing so, he thought it better to slight their reprehensions and reproches, glorying in what he had done. Every one is drawn by a peculiar delight, sayth Virgil Eclogâ 2.: they commit therefore a grosse error, which measure the in­clinations [Page 81] of other men by the recreations they themselves have made choice of by a particular instinct of nature: for all things doe not seeme faire unto all men; neither doe all men judge all things to be worth their paines, sayth Aelian In praefatio­ne libri primi de animali­bus.. Let us therefore beare with the recreations of other men, sayth the younger Plinie Lib. IX. Epist. 17., that they likewise may beare with ours. The following words of Seneca doe containe a very grave and sober admonition; What can you alleadge, sayth he Cap. 9. de Tranquill, animi., why that man is not as well to be pardoned that seeketh a great name by marble and ivorie, as any other that gathereth up the workes of unknowne yea sometimes also disallowed Authors, whilest he himselfe sitteth gaping among so many thousand Bookes, de­lighting in nothing so much as in the out-side and bare titles of his Volumes? But by chance shall any one grant mee now that men of great meanes and of a greater minde may please themselves in the fruition of these honest recreations, and yet shall they not cease to blame other men of meaner sort and condition, who not considering their owne poore e­state, run most greedily after such barren and unprofitable delights as cannot be maintained without an excessive ex­pence of money and time. To answer them therefore that can spare so much leisure from their owne affaires, as to meddle with the doings of other men; let them first under­stand, that they mistake the whole matter grosly; seeing men of ordinary estates need not spend themselves that way as to undergoe the charges of buying, since great and generous spirits, furnish their houses with such things not onely for their owne private contemplation, but also for the free use of such as doe professe themselves to be Lovers and well-willers of Art, thinking their cost well bestowed when many doe daily resort to their galleries. Let them secondly know, that they are not well advised when they [Page 82] goe about to brand these most commendable recreations with the nick-name of barren and unprofitable delights: for how can that same contemplation deserve the opinion of an unfruitfull and idle exercise, by whose meanes wee doe understand the true beautie of created bodies, a ready way to the consideration of our glorious Creator? besides that this same exercise, like a most sweet Musick to the eye, doth cleare up all heavinesse and sullen drowsinesse of the mind: it worketh in us also, by the examples of things past, a perfect love of innocence: it doth bridle the most vio­lent passions of love and anger. So is it that Lib. III. Eleg. 20. Propertius propounding diverse wayes how to be rid of love, maketh mention also of this same delight. Plutarch likewise tea­cheth us that malice and revenge cannot settle their seate in such hearts as doe delight in these delicate elegancies. I know well enough that there may be some who making a shew of following such harmlesse pastimes, doe in the meane time under that pretence entertaine all manner of harmfull and most dangerous plottes: of them I doe not speake: my discourse meaneth them onely that doe not faine. Looke well into them, and you shall take them to be some remnant of the golden age: for who is there whose heart hath been once rightly possessed with the sweet huma­nitie of such liberall delights, that doth slavishly stoope un­der the tyrant love, or that suffereth himselfe to be driven whither soever desperate Ambition pusheth him? They en­vie no body, they despise no body, they doe not lend their eares to backbiting and slanderous tales, they doe but ima­gine well-hung chambers and well-furnished galleries: this doe they make the height of their cares, the height of their wishes, propounding themselves hereafter an innoxious and a happie life: and if perchance they fall out with some [Page 83] bodie, yet is there nothing so easie as to bring them instant­ly to a true and hearty reconciliation, chiefly if they can but learne that he against whom they have a quarrell, doth not altogether abhor from the love of those things they them­selves doe like. Polemon observed this very well: for when a certaine man that spent a great deale in buying of neat seales, as Plutarch reporteth De Irâ co­hibendâ., fell out with him in very foule termes, he answering him never a word, but fixing his eyes and minde earnestly upon one of his sealing rings, began to consider it most diligently. Wherupon the man filled with joy, left his railing, and Not so Polemon, sayd he, but view it in a good light, and you shall finde it a great deale fairer. Forsooth the wit of man is softened by gentle Arts, and our man­ners are sutable to our studies, sayth Ovid Lib. III. de Arte.. Snow doth conti­nue longer in rough and untilled grounds, sayth Petronius Ar­biter In Satyrico., but wheresoever the ground is tilled, there doth the slen­der frost vanish away whilest you are yet speaking: even so doth anger fix her seat in our brests, occupying rude and fierce minds, but passing by the learned and gentle ones. Virgil, when he doth describe how Aeneas, after a world of miseries endured by tempest, landing in Afrike came to the new Citie of Kar­thage, hath a notable place and worth our consideration: Here hath a new occasion lessened his feare, giving him some hope of safetie, sayth Virgil Lib. I. Ae­neid.; for whilest he staying for the Queene vieweth every thing in a great Temple; whilest he doth also wonder at the fortune of the new Towne, at the labour of the worke, as also at the emulation of the workmen; he seeth the whole description of the most famous Trojan warre painted in a very good order. Agamemnon, Priamus, and A chilles terrible to them both were not wanting in that same picture. Standing still therefore, and weeping, What place is there now, O Acha­tes, sayth he, what Countrey is there that is not filled with the [Page 84] fame of our labours? Looke, here is Priamus, here is the reward for praise, and teares also for the miseries of mortall men: put away all feare: this fame shall bring us some safetie. Having thus spoke, he fed his eyes with the represented picture, fetching many a deepe grone, and watering his cheekes with a large ri­ver of teares. Out of these words of Virgil doth the ancient Commentator Servius inferre this lesson, All Aeneas his care was about the manners of the Africans; but now doth he quiet himselfe upon sight of this Picture: for as many as doe paint such kinde of warres, cannot but love vertues and be touched with a most lively commiseration of the grievous mis-fortunes of other men.

§ 10. As many then as have courages equall unto their vast estate, may thinke their good name well enough secu­red, and need not feare any just reproach when they take their fill of these no lesse profitable then delectable contem­plations; remembring onely to moderate this same incre­dible delight with so much discretion, as not to suffer the memorie of their owne greatnesse to be abolished by the vehemencie of their too fond affection; seeing the greatest that are cannot maintaine the authoritie of a great and glo­rious name, as long as they goe about to uphold the wor­thinesse of these Arts by the losse of their owne dignitie. How dreadfull was the Majestie of the Romane Emperours in the whole world? annd yet could not Adrian the Em­perour scape the bitter censures of Apollodorus the Archi­tect, as Xiphilinus reporteth, because he did applaud him­selfe too much for his skill in painting of Gourds. The King Antiochus, surnamed Epiphanes, as Polybius witnesseth Apud Athe­naeum lib. V. Deipnosoph., did likewise beare the blame and receive the contempt of his immoderate love towards these Arts. Plutarch his good advice seemeth therefore to deserve golden Letters. When [Page 85] we doe wonder at any thing done, sayth he In Periclis vitâ circa initium., it doth not in­stantly follow that we should desire to doe the same. When Phi­lip the King heard his sonne in a banquet play very sweetly and artificially upon a musicall Instrument, Are not you ashamed, sayd he, to play so finely? for it sufficeth if a King doth shew him­selfe now and then at leisure to heare Musicians, and he honours the Muses enough when he is content sometimes to be a spectator of them that play for strife: but the self-practising of such mean Arts bringeth to passe that our earnest endeavour about unpro­fitable things serveth for a witnes of our sloathfulnesse in grea­ter matters. Neither is there any generous young-man the which having seen the Jupiter consecrated at Pisa, desireth to be Phy­dias; so doth no bodie also desire to be Polycletus, how ever the image of Juno consecrated at Argos pleaseth him. A gene­rous young man may very well be taken with an honest love of Poësie, and yet shall he not instantly wish himselfe to be Ana­creon, Philemon, or Archilochus: for it is not necessary that when the worke delighteth us as being pleasant, that we should therefore thinke the work-men worth our imitation. We have as yet considered the Art of Painting in her first begin­nings, or rather in her swadling clouts and cra­dle; it followeth now that wee should consider in the next Booke the progresse of this same Art, and what hath set her on foot. (⸪)



THe naturall pronenesse which is in us of imitating all manner of things created, as it hath ever been furthered and advanced by the ready helpe of our Phantasie, so are there many other causes which have strangely cheri­shed up this most forward inclination of our all-attempting natures: but among such a great number of severall causes as are known to have promoted these Arts of Imitation, wee must needs preferre God the onely fountaine of good things above all the rest; whose infinite good­nesse [Page 87] was forthwith seconded by the diligent benevolence of loving Parents, seeing they could not thinke their children well provided for, untill they had found out for them a good and carefull Master; the young men therefore being once by the helpe of their trusty Masters admitted to the secrets of art, and being after­wards left to work out the rest by their own in­dustry, if they meant to depart from the whol­some precepts of their Teachers, were kept in awe by the feare of most severe and strict lawes made against the corrupters of art; but if they had on the contrary so much good nature as not to forsake the sinceritie of their first instituti­on, then did the Emulation of others that took a good course keepe them also in the right way; and because the Ancients in a prodigious plain­nesse of art did not so much study to have their workes commended for the choice exquisitnesse of costly colours, as for the power and force of art it selfe, these emulators also could not but be [Page 88] mindfull of that same simplicitie of art; their hearts were in the mean time filled with a won­derfull sweetnesse of art delighting it selfe in this same plaine and prosperous way of emula­tion; and gathering strength out of the mani­fold and every where obvious use of these arts; as also out of the Honourable estimation these arts are held in with all men; whereupon, ha­ving once felt the tickling pleasure of the much desired glory, they did merrily resolve on a most confident boldnesse of art; remembring alwayes and above all things the Care due unto such grave and serious arts; expressing likewise this sollicitude of theirs by a praise-worthy Ingenu­itie, in calling both artificers and idiots to assist them; but as the heat of emulation, the desire of glory, and other causes here alleadged, were much holpen by the publike felicity of peaceable and flourishing times; so did the private fortune of the Artificers, by I know not what hidden means, bring them to a good and joyfull end.


GOD Almightie and Nature have questi­onlesse been a maine cause of the wonder­full encrease of these Arts of Imitation. Certainly, sayth Philostratus In Prooemio Iconum., if any man will speake after the manner of Sophists, Pi­cture is an invention of the Gods, as well for that same painting which the severall seasons of the yeare doe paint the meads withall, as for those things that doe appeare in the skie. Would not you thinke the Sophists to be quick­witted and wonderfull eloquent men, seeing they cleare such a great point in a few words? The medowes forsooth garnished with flowers, and the heaven distinguished with severall figures made up of starres and clouds are a sufficient proofe of what they say; though it be very certaine, that the most pleasant tapestries of the fields doe not so much helpe the Art as they doe delight the spectator; that the wit of man hath set forth the constellations after the image of living and lifelesse things; that the uncertaine shapes of clouds most commonly are likened unto any thing our wan­dring minde conceiveth. The image of Pallas also, knowne by the name of Palladium, and all other Statues celebrated by antiquitie, as if they were fallen downe from heaven, are no warrantable argument to referre these Arts to the [Page 90] Gods: none but vaine men, tell such tales; none but fooles, entertain them: since it is evident that mighty Kings have taken a singular delight in preparing such false miracles to deceive their miserable posterities withall. How odiously tedious was the Citie of Ephesus in vaun­ting her selfe to bee the keeper of the great goddesse Diana, and of the Image which fell down from Jupiter; Act. xix, 35. and yet was shee for all her crackling and boasting, abused by a statue brought from Alexandria: for Ptolemaeus the King having sent every where for the most famous carvers to make se­cretly an accurat image of Diana, when it was finished, hee prepared a royall banquet for the Artificers, the banquet­ting-house being first undermined; wherefore none of them could escape, but all were in the midst of that fatall feast swallowed up by the ruine of the place; and so, the true authors of the noble worke-manship being taken a­way, it was easie enough for the King to make any one beleeve that such a compleat worke was sent down from heaven: see Suidas, or rather Isidorus Pelusiota Lib. IV. epist. 207., for Sui­das, hath borrowed this storie from him.

§. 2. Seeing then that both the Sophisticall and Histo­ricall proofes come to nothing, it may seem best that we should returne to the first men, the which, as Censorinus spea­keth De die nata­li, cap. 4., were created out of Prometheus his soft clay: for so did Democritus Abderita first of all hold, that men are made out of water and slime: this is questionlesse our safest way: seeing no wise man doth acknowledge any other Prome­theus, besides that power of Divine Providence expressed by Moses in the history of the creation: see Genes. II, 7. compared with Lactantius divin. instit. lib. II, cap. 11. see also Tertullian. de Resurr. carnis. Fulgentius lib. II. Mythol. Basilius Seleuciae episcopus orat. II. Gregorius Nyssenus de Ho­minis [Page 91] opificio, cap. 22. whence it is that the same Gregori­us in another place Orat. I. de Beatitudini­bus. calleth man an earthen statue: and Sui­das speaking of Adam, saith, this same was the first statue, the image named by God, after the which all the Art of carving u­sed by men receiveth her directions: so was then Adam the first statue made by God, as Lots wife was the second, see Genes. xix, 26. Remember Lots wife, saith our Saviour, Luke xvii., 32. least therefore wee should quickly forget her, shee seemeth to have been turned into a durable mate­riall, for Plinie Nat. hist. lib. xxxi, cap. 7. vide quo­que Solinum, cap. 31. doth mention some kind of salt which af­ter the manner of stone quarreys withstandeth iron: al­though the miraculous preservation of that statue doth not seeme to require that wee should conceive any such du­rablenesse of I know not what materiall: shee waxed stiffe, saith Aur. Prudentius Hamartige­niâ. being consolidated into a kind of brittle metall; and the woman standeth turned into a stone apt to be melted, keeping still her old posture in the same salt­stone image; her comlinesse, her ornaments, her fore-head, her eyes, her haire, her face also looking backward, with her chinne gently turned do retain the unchangeable monuments of the an­cient offence: and although shee melteth continually away in salt sweat, yet doth the compleatnesse of her shape suffer no losse by this same fluidnesse; neither can whole droves of beasts im­paire the savory stone so much, but there is for all that liquour enough left to licke, and the wasted skinne is ever renewed by the losse: the pattern of the Tabernacle shewed unto Moses upon mount Sinai may also be referred to this place, see Exod. xxv, 40. the brasen serpent made by Moses accor­ding to Gods expresse command, see Numb. xxi, 9. the patterne of the Temple of Jerusalem delivered unto Solo­mon by his father David after the prescript God had made with his owne hand, see 1. Chron. xxviii, 19. the Prophet [Page 92] Ezechiel, to the end he might propound more lively unto the inhabitants of Jerusalem what dangers there did hang over their heads, received a command from God to pour­tray the citie of Jerusalem upon a tile, and lay siege a­gainst it, and build a fort against it, &c, see Ezechiel IV, 1. but most of all are Bezaleël and Aholiab to bee mentioned here, of whom God himselfe witnesseth, Exod. xxxi. and xxxv, that hee called them by name to make the Ta­bernacle, and that hee had not onely filled them with the spirit of God to devise curious workes to worke in gold, and in silver, and in brasse, but that besides all this skill hee put in their hearts to teach others: the picture also of our Lord and God Christ Jesus, made without hands, may bee alledged here in this place as it is related by Dama­scenus, Cedrenus, and other writers of Ecclesiasticall hi­storie.

Abgarus the King of Edessa having wrastled many yeeres with a very grievous and most troublesome disease, heard something of the divine miracles of our Blessed Savi­our: hee took therefore a resolution to invite him friendly by letters to come to his Citie; and having sent Ananias, one of his footmen, that had some skill also in painting, hee charged him that, if hee could not bring along Christ himselfe, hee should at least bring back his picture drawne after the life. Ananias having delivered the letter, began tofixe his eyes upon Christ, that hee might observe and put up in mind the true lineaments of his face and body; but being hindered by the importunatenesse of a crowding multitude, hee betooke himselfe to a stony place of a rea­sonable height, to note from thence, and to draw quietly the true similitude of him, whom the King his master was so desirous to see: yet all to no purpose: seeing our Savi­our [Page 93] did change his countenance as often as Ananias, ha­ving begunne to draw, meant to observe him further: howbeit our Blessed Lord at length granted him his desire: for having called for water to wash his face, and having wiped his face with a foure double lin­nen cloath, hee sent unto Abgarus by the hands of Ananias his owne image expressed in the towell, together with an answere to the letter. Asterius bishop of Amasa, and the other writers which wrote Church histories besides him, make mention of our Saviours brasen statue e­rected by the woman hee had healed of abloody issue. See Photius.

§. 3. For as much then as Almightie God hath vouch­safed us so many examples of the Art of painting and cast­ing, commending these Arts not onely by his own exam­ple and command unto us, but enabling also the Artificers thereunto by his Spirit, wee may very well affirme with Theodoretus Serm. IV. de Providentiâ., that God is the author and supporter of these Arts: neither were the heathen men ignorant of the truth of this point: the seeds of all Arts are deeply graffed in us, and God by a secret mastership doth bring the witts to light, saith Seneca Lib. IV. de Benef. cap. 6.: there is an humane reason, saith Epicharmus Republicâ., there is also a divine: the humane reason busieth her selfe a­bout our life and necessary provision: the divine on the con­trary accompanieth us when wee doe goe about the practising of Arts, teaching us alwayes what is fit to be done: for man hath not found Arts, but God bringeth them forth: and humane rea­son it selfe proceedeth from divine reason: Julianus the Em­perour speaketh also very neately to this purpose, even as birds being made to flie, fishes to swimme, and harts to runne saith hee Orat. VII., need not bee taught any of these things; for though a man should goe about to tie them, and to pinne them up, yet [Page 94] will they for all that strive to use those parts which they know themselves to prevail in: so is mankind likewise (whose soul seemeth to be nothing else but a restrained reason and science, or rather facultie, as wise men terme it) desirous to learne, to seek, and curiously to dive into all things, esteeming such an employment to be most proper unto his nature: and unto whom­soever a favourable God doth speedily release these bonds, bring­ing the facultie to some operation, the same doth instantly at­tain to the science: see also Maximus Tyrius, Disser­tat. XL.

§. 4. Nature in the mean time, a most fertil Artificer of good and bad, hath not beene idle; but she exerciseth the right of her most powerfull government after so licenti­ous a manner, as if shee would have us know that it fit­teth her best to delight herselfe somewhat in the varietie of things, seeing the labour of bringing forth all things is chiefly hers: although, what is Nature else, saith Sene­ca De Benef. lib. iv, cap. 7. quemadm. & Naturalium quaest. lib. II. cap. 45., but God and adivine power infused into the whole world and every part of the world: to speake then somthing about the miracles of all-atchieving Nature, I shall not studie to expresse in words the unspeakable subtiltie of flowers, as Pli­nie speaketh Lib. XXI, nat. hist. cap. 1., seeing no man is so well able to speake, but Nature is still a great deal better able to paint, especially when shee meaneth to make her selfe some sport in the midst of her jol­ly fertilitie. I shall likewise forbeare to relate the checker­worke, like Oyster-shells of Pergamus, mentioned by Apu­leius In Apolo­giâ., as also the Peacockes, together with the spots of Ty­gers, Leopards, and so many more painted creatures, as Plinie Nat. hist. l. VII. cap. 1. speaketh: for though such things doe sufficiently delight the lookers on, yet doe they not instruct the Artificers. Leaving therefore all such kind of things, I shall but men­tion here the manifold picture of gemmes, the partie-coloured [Page 95] spots of pretious stones, as Plinie Lib. II. nat. hist. cap. 93. doth speak: and among all these I cānot but remember the royal fame of a gem that same Pyrrhus had which made warre against the Romanes: for it is reported of him that he had an Agathe wherein the nine Muses and Apollo holding of a Lute were discerned; the spots, not by Art, but by Nature so being spread over the stone, that every one of the Muses had her peculiar mark. Plin. nat. hist. lib. xxxvii, cap. 1. see also Solinus, cap. 12. Lovers of all kind of curious rarities use to call such a casuall painting of Na­ture, as commeth neere unto Art by the name of Gamahè; and because of late some have undertaken to gather up di­vers examples of these wonders of Nature, I would have him, that is desirous to know somthing more concerning them, reade the first chapter of Gafarellus his booke, published in French with the title of Curiosities un­heard.

§. 5. Although now these miracles of Nature may seem to fall out by meere chance, yet can wee not think it to be a casuall kind of picture, when many generations issuing forth out of one man, who had a certaine marke, do con­stantly retaine the same marke in some part of their bodies, receiving it as by the succession of a most sure and perpetu­all inheritance.

What chance, I pray you, could it be, that Seleucus the King having had upon his thigh a compleat figure of an anchor, his off-spring also should keep the same long after him? and yet is this credibly reported in Appia­nus his Syriack History: see also the xv. book of Justine, and Ausonius in the second of his famous cities. The pro­genie of Pelops had such another marke; and Iphigenia should never have knowne her brother Orestes, if shee had not spied an Olive tree upon his right shoulder, the marke [Page 96] of the Pelopeian race: see Cedrenus. Those that were at Thebes called Sparti, carried also the image of a speare in their bo­dies, as a sure marke of their linage; and as many as had not that marke, were esteemed to be none of them, saith Dio Chry­sostomus Orat. IV. de Regno.: the Sparti are discerned by their speare, the Pelo­peians by their shoulders, the great Themistius by his elo­quence, saith Gregory Nazianzene In epistolâ ad Themisti­um.. see also Julianus the Emperour orat. II. de rebus gest is Constantii imp. and Zet­zes upon Lycophron his Cassandra: but above all the rest, doe the words of Plutarch deserve to bee remembred here; the warts, moles, and blemishes in the eye of parents, saith hee De iis quos divina vin­dicta tarde assequitur., not appearing in the children, do somtimes break out againe in the Nephewes: and a Grecian woman being accused of adultery, because had brought forth a black childe, was found to be the fourth generation of an Aethiopian. Python being one of the Sparti, who died but a little while agoe, had a sonne that brought forth in his body the figure of a speare; the similitude of this same generation after an intermission of so many yeeres starting up a fresh in him, as out of a deep gulfe.

§. 6. These pictures of busie Nature might seem won­derfull, if shee had rested here, and not proceeded fur­ther to amore admited attempt of making statues: thus is it that many high mountaines and promontories draw their name and fame from the resemblance of living and lifelesse creatures: see Eustathius upon the 89. and 157. verses of Dionysius his description or circuit of the world: many plants also are knowne by the name of those things whose similitude Nature represented in them; as is cleare­ly to bee perceived in that same never enough admired Mandrake: see Theophrastus, Dioscorides, Plinie, Columel­la: yea Nature hath somtimes brought forth out of her [Page 97] rich bosome perfect patterns of Art, if it be true what Car­neades Apud Cice­ronem lib. I. de Divinat. reporteth, that namely in the stone-quarreys of Chios, a stone being cleft in sunder, there was found in it the head of a little Pan. Plinie doth also relate Lib. xxxvi. nat. hist. ca. 5. how in the Parian stone-quarreyes, a great stone being split by the wedges of the worke-men, there did appeare within an image of Silenus. Tzetzes Chiliad. VII, Hist. 144. and Chil. VIII, Hist. 213. speaketh of the dracontian stones.


THe earnest care of good and loving Parents did follow upon the said introduction af­forded by God and Nature; seeing Pa­rents could never give any satisfaction to the tendernesse of their affection, untill they saw the comfort of their life and the hope of their decaying yeeres setled into a good course of breeding: so was this same duty of Parents much urged by the most grave and continent Philosopher Crates, who was often wont to say, as Plutarch De Liber. institutione. reporteth, that a man should doe very well to climbe up to the top of the most eminent places of the towne, and to cry out continually unto the eares of all, Foolish men, what aile you, that you take so much paines to possesse riches, and care so little for your children, unto whom you mean to leave them? Diogenes there­fore, according to Aelian Var. hist. xii, 56. Laer­tius, lib. VI. Plut. de Amo­re divitia­rum, his relation, when hee saw that the Megarians took more care for their cattell then for [Page 98] their children, said, that hee had rather bee a Megarian his ramme then his sonne. The greatest part of the most polished Grecians in the meane time did mightily detest that grosse errour of the Megarians, and would not only have their children throughly skilled in all kind of neces­sary sciences, but would have them taste also these more curious Arts: the Grecians for the most parte, saith Ari­stotle Lib. VIII, Polit. cap. 3., did teach their children the Art of painting; least they might be deceived in the buying and selling of vessells and houshold-stuffe: or rather, that they might improve them­selves in the true knowledge of perfect beautie: Varro likewise in his treatise of the education of children speaketh even to the same purpose: shee that hath not learned to draw, saith hee Apud Noni­um in Pluma­rium., cannot be able to judge what is well painted by the em­broderers or weavers in the counter points of bolsters: it doth then appeare by these words of Varro that not the Grecians only, but the Romanes also would have their children bred after this manner: and Plutarch teacheth us in the life of Paulus Aemilius, that this Noble Captain had as well sculpters and painters among the masters of his children, as Sophists and Rhetoricians: yet can wee not denie but that this same custome of breeding hath beene more frequent in Greece, seeing it was brought to passe by the authoritie of Pam­philus, saith Plinie Lib. xxxv, nat. hist. cap. 10., first at Sicyon, and afterwards in all Greece, that free-borne youths should be taught before all things a certain kind of painting in box-wood, and that this same Art should be received into the first rancke of liberall sci­ences: although it hath ever been so honoured, that none but free-borne might exercise the said Art, and such afterwards as were at least of an honest condition: with a perpetuall prohibi­tion, that none of the servile sort of men should be trained up to the knowledge of this Art: so was there also in this Art, and [Page 99] in the Art of graving never any one famous that was of a slavish condition. Galen therefore giveth us a very good and whol­some advice, expressing withall the true reason why these Arts are to be rancked with the liberall sciences; Wee are to exercise an Art, sayth he In exhortae­tione ad per­discendas artes., that may stay with us all our life time: and as some Arts are rationall and reverent, some on the contrary contemptible and exercised onely by the labour of the bodie; so is it alwayes better a man should addict himselfe to the first sort of Arts; for the second sort useth to forsake and to disappoint the Artificers when they waxe olde: of the first sort are Physick, Rhetorick, Musicke, Geometrie, Arith­metick, Logick, Astronomie, Grammar, the knowledge of civill lawes. Joyne unto these, if you will, the Arts of Car­ving and Painting; for though their worke doth demand the help of our hands, yet doth it not require youthfull strength.

§ 2. Seeing then that Grecian children by an usuall cu­stome of the Country did first of all beginne with the rudi­ments of these Arts, it shall not seeme strange to any one that weigheth the fore-mentioned words of Plinie, why Sicyon is called by the same Author Nat. hist. lib. xxxv. cap. 5. patria picturae, that is, the native Country of picture. So sayth Strabo Lib. VIII. Geograph. likewise, that the Arts of Painting and Carving, with all such kinde of work­manship, were most of all augmented at Corinth and Sicyon. Of Corinth sayth Orosius Lib. V. hist. cap. 3., that for the space of many genera­tions it hath been a shop of all Arts and Artists, yea a common Mart-towne of Asia and Europe. Of Sicyon, see Plutarch in the life of Aratus. Sidonius Apollinaris Lib. VI. Epist. 12. sayth that Greece was famous for Painters and Carvers. And Plinie In prafa­tione ardui operis. termeth the Grecians pingendi fingendi (que) conditores, that is, founders of painting and casting. Neither could it be otherwise, but that the Grecians should carry this praise above other Na­tions: for their lads making in their tender yeares the first [Page 100] triall of their wits about the rudiments of these Arts, were kept to the prosperously attempted Arts, if they fell to them with a naturall dexteritie, and were on the contrary put to other Arts if they did not prove so apt as the nice exactnesse of these Arts seemed to require. Lucian Vide Lucia­num in Som­nio. testifieth of himselfe that his father consulting with his kinsfolkes a­bout the trade he should put his sonne to, thought it best to make him a statuarie, because he had observed that the boy returning out of the schoole did delight in nothing so much as to make oxen, horses, and men likewise, and that he did it not unhandsomly. It is verily a great matter to exercise an Art to the which our naturall inclination leadeth us; as before hath been shewed: and yet is it of no lesse moment to begin that same selfe-chosen Art betimes. This is true in my opinion, sayth Tullie Lib. III. de Oratore., that a man is never able to learne any thing thoroughly, unles he have been able to learn it quick­ly. Quintilian likewise sayth very well to the purpose, if you begin to teach one that is now setled in yeares, sayth he Orat. instit. lib. I, c. 12., you shall better perceive that such as doe any thing in their owne art excellently, are upon good ground sayd to have learned that art from their childhood.

§ 3. So did then the Parents provide betimes unto their children choice Masters, which should shew them the true face of Art, sayth Quintilian Dialogo de causis corr. eloqu. c. 34., and not a vaine image onely. Which also, as the same Author speaketh Orat. instit. lib. II. c. 2., should take the scholars in hand with a fatherly minde, esteeming themselves to succeed in their place that committed the children unto them: and ha­ving once met with such Masters, they tooke no further care, but left all to them: as the waggoner is you doe set over the horses, sayth Libanius Legatione ad Julianum Imp., so may you hope that the waggon shall goe: yet were the Parents wont to take heed that the hope of a more speedy and sudden gaine should not cause [Page 101] them to publish the greene studies of their children before the time of their apprentiship came to an end. Corne doth al­so exspect the times determined for maturitie, sayth Q. Cur­tius Lib. VI. de Rebus gestis Alexandri, cap. 3., and things voide of all sense receive a good temper by a certaine law appointed unto them. This warie circumspect­nesse being afterwards neglected by Parents, made Arbiter breake out into a just complaint; and we now a dayes for the like carelesnesse of our times, have great cause to renew the same complaint, pressing his words as neere as may be. Parents deserve to be rebuked, sayth he In Satyrico., that will not suffer their children to profit by a severe way of teaching: for they doe first frustrate their hopes as well as other things by ambition: and afterwards, making too much haste to obtaine their desires, they doe publish the raw and unperfect endeavours of their children, putting them before their full growth to the practice of such an Art as by their owne confession is the greatest of all other Arts. Whereas, if they would be content that the endeavours of their children should goe on by degrees, that the studious lads should be kept in by a strict course of exercitation, that they should prepare their mindes by the precepts of wise­dome, that they should not sticke now and then with a cruell pencill to deface pleasing lineaments, that they should view and consider a great while what may be worthy their imitation, if they did not instantly thinke all magnificent whatsoever they see liked by their children, this same mightie Art could never want the weight of her majestie. Now on the contrary, as boys doe but trifle and play in the schooles, so are they nothing but laught at, when they step forth unto the publike: and, which is worse then both, whatsoever any one being young hath learned amisse, he is loathe to confesse it when he groweth older.


GOod and vigilant Masters did never deceive the trust reposed in them, studying alwayes to answer the expectation of timorous Pa­rents with a most carefull diligence in tea­ching. Plinie noteth two things in Pamphi­lus, out of whose schoole Apelles and many other famous Painters came forth, he taught no bodie, sayth Plinie Lib. xxxv, nat. hist. cap. 10., under a talent, and that ten yeares. He would not teach any schol­lar under a talent, to maintaine the Authoritie of the Art the better, if the same should not be frankly bestowed upon any one. Protagoras was the first that made speeches for a re­ward, sayth Philostratus Lib. I. de vitis Sophi­starum., he brought in among the Grecians an irreprehensible custome; for we do alwayes more esteeme and embrace things wrought out with no small cost of our own, then things had for nothing. He taught them afterwards ten yeares, to keepe the credit of his schoole by exercising his scholars sufficiently in the necessary rudiments and continuall pra­ctice of designing before he would suffer them unadvisedly and presumptuously to worke in colours. It would have been superfluous to touch this point, if many Masters now adayes did not confound all, beginning by an ambitious hast with those things that should goe last, sayth Quintilian Orat. instit. lib. I. cap. 4., and whilest they mean to make a boast of their scholars about things specious and faire in shew, they doe nothing else but stop their progresse by such a perverse and unseasonable compendiousnesse. Seeing then that this course of teaching maketh young men selfe-conceited and proud, we shall doe better to give eare to the words of Lycon, a most eloquent man and an excel­lent breeder of children, for he was wont to say, as Lib. V. Laërtius [Page 103] reporteth, that it is fit we should endue children with shamefulnesse and desire of glorie, even as we do use about our horses the spurre and the bridle.

§ 2. Seeing then that the presumptuous forwardnesse of some is often to be stayed as with a bridle, and the bash­full backwardnesse of others is now and then to be stirred up as with a spurre, it hath been ever seene, that good and trusty Masters have handled their scholars differently, ac­cording as they found the temper of their wits to require. Wee doe see, sayth Tullie Lib. III. de Oratore., that out of the schooles of such Ma­sters and Artificers as were most excellent in their kinde, there are come forth disciples, the which although they were alike praise-worthy, yet did they differ very much among themselves: because the institution of the teacher was accommodated unto every one his nature. We have, not to speak of other Arts, a ve­ry notable example in Isocrates, a singular good teacher; who sayd, that he was wont to apply the spurre to Ephorus, but on the contrary the bridle to Theopompus: for he did represse the one, that was apt to run out unto a most wanton boldnesse of words; and he did prick on the other, that would ever stay be­hinde by reason of a bashfull slownesse there was in him: yet did he not make them like, but he added onely something to the one, and tooke away something from the other, to confirme in both what their natures could beare. It is then very well sayd of Quintilian Orat. instit. lib. XII. c. 2., though vertue borroweth some forward fits of Nature, yet must shee attaine to perfection by Doctrine.

§ 3. Although now in some regard they tooke speciall notice of the difference of wits, yet did they propound e­very day promiscuously unto all their scholars manifold examples of a true and uncorrupt way of Art: It is not e­nough Painters and Statuaries should say that the colours must be such, and the lines such; but the greatest profit cometh from [Page 104] thence, if any one seeth them goe about their worke, saith Dio Chrysostomus Orat. xviii. quae est de Exercitat. di­cendi.: nothing is rightly taught nor learned with­out examples, saith Columella Lib. xi. de [...]er [...]sticà, cap. 1.: wee are easier taught by ex­ample what wee are to follow, and what wee are to shun, saith Seneca the rhetorician Lib. IX. Controv. 2.: there is never any labour lost, when experiments are found to agree with precepts, saith Quinti­lian. Orat. instit. lib. 12. cap. 6. Examples stand for testimonies; saith the author of the rhetorick inscribed unto Herennius Circa initi­um libri Quarti., and whatsoever Art and reason doe advertise and propound unto us but slight­ly, is made good by the testimony of examples: and againe a little after, Chares learned not of Lysippus to make statues by Lysippus his shewing him the head of Myron, the arms of Praxiteles, the brest of Polycle us; but hee saw his Master doe all these things before his eyes; and as for the works of other Masters, hee could consider them well enough by himselfe. Gal­len Lib. V. de Hippocratis & Platonis dogmatibus. mentioneth that Polycletus hath not only set down in writing the precepts of a most accurat pattern of Art, but that hee also made a statue after the rules of Art contained in the said precepts. Polycletus made a piece of worke, saith Plinie Lib. xxxiv. nat. hist. cap. 8., named Canon among the Artificers, because they doe fetch the lineaments of Art from thence, as from a cer­tain law; and no man but hee is judged to have perfected the Art by a worke of Art.

§. 4. Yet may not all this be so understood, as if these ancient and famous Artificers did ever detain their scho­lars about the imitation of their workes, without giving them leave to trie their owne wittes at any time; for Quin­tilian telleth us otherwise: it is fit, saith hee Orat. instit. lib. II. cap. 6., that disci­ples should sometimes be set upon their owne legges; lest by an evill custome of alwayes following the labours of other men, they should never learne to endeavour and to find out any thing of themselves: it is likewise knowne that Lysippus being at the [Page 105] first but a Copper-smith, took a more bold and confident resolution by an answere of the painter Eupompus; who being asked which of the former Artificers a man had best to follow, answered pointing at a multitude of men, that Nature it selfe was rather to be followed then any Artificer. Plin. xxxiv, 8. as therefore they did most carefully put their hands under the chinne of fearfull beginners, so did they leave them to themselves, when it was time for them to swimme without the helpe of supporting hands, or childish rushes: although they never did give quite over the labour of the institution once undertaken, but they were still mindfull of their scholars after they were gone, and thinking the perfection of a scholar to bee the greatest glory of the Master, they provided most commonly for them they had taught some Precepts of Art in wri­ting, which might ever accompany them whithersoever they went: hence it was, that Apelles, not being content with the teaching hee had bestowed upon his disciple Per­seus, wrote also unto him concerning the Art. Plin. xxxv, 10. wee doe likewise find that besides Polycletus and Apel­les, many other Artificers and famous men have studied to illustrate these Arts and Artificiall workes, by their wri­tings and disputations: not to name therefore Callistratus his description of statues, the Images of the old and young Philostratus, the xxxiv. and xxxv. bookes of Plinie, and o­ther authors extant, I shall reckon up only such authors whose records of Art and Artificiall things are lost and gone.

Adaeus Mitylenaeus, his bookes of Statuaries are quoted by Athenaeus, lib. xiii, Deipnosoph. cap. 8.

Alcetas hath written of the donaries or gifts offered unto Apollo in his Delphik temple. Athenaeus lib. xiii. cap. 6.

[Page 106] Alexis the Poët made a Comoedie intituled Picture: and the argument of that Poëme seemeth to agree with the argument of the writers here named, if wee may make con­jecture of the whole Poëme by the place alledged out of it in Athenaeus his Deipnosophists, lib. xiii. cap. 8. wee may judge the same of Pherecrates his Painters, quoted by the same Athenaeus, lib. ix, cap. 11. as also of Diphilus his Painters, mentioned by the same author, lib. vi, cap. 4. Alexandrides his Painters are quoted in Pollux his onomast. lib. x, cap. 14. Nonius Marcellus bringeth forth many pla­ces out of Pomponius his Painters.

Anastmenes hath written of the auncient Pictures: See Fulgentius Placiades, lib III. Mytholog. in Actaeone.

Antigonus the statuarie made bookes of his Art, saith Plinie, lib. xxxiv, cap. 8. and there seemeth also to have been another Antigonus, whom the same Plinie, lib. xxxv, cap. 10. reporteth to have written a treatise of Picture.

Aristodemus Carius hath perticularly set down the ende­vours of all them that have advanced the Art of Painting, reckoning up also what Kings and Republikes have been well affected towards the said Arts: see Philostratus in prooe­mio Iconum.

Artemon his book of Painters, is quoted by Harpocrati­on, where he speaketh of Polignotus.

Callixenus hath written a Catalogue of Painters and Sta­tuaries, and Photius telleth us, that the twelth booke of Sopater his choice histories was collected out of Callixenus his worke.

Christodorus his description of the Statues that were at Constantinople, in a publike place named Zeuxippus, is men­tioned by Suidas.

[Page 107] Democritus Ephesius hath described the Temple of Dia­na of Ephesus: see Laërt. lib. ix, in Democritus: and Athe­naeus, lib. xii, cap. 5.

Duris of the Art of Painting, is quoted by Laërt. lib. I, in Thales.

Eupherion his Comedie intituled Graver of cups, is allea­ged by Theocritus his scholast.

Euphranor Isthmius, a most famous Painter, hath written of Symmetrie and colours: see Plinie, lib. xxxv, cap. 11.

Hegesander Delphicus his commentarie of Images and Statues is quoted by Athenaeus, lib. v, cap. 13.

Hippias Elëus, a famous Sophist, disputed about Pi­cture and Statuarie: see Philost. lib. I, de vitis Sophi­starum.

Hypsicrates hath written of Picture. Laërt. lib. vii. in Chrysippus.

Jamblichus his worke of Statues hath beene con­futed by Joannes Philoponus. Photius speaketh of them both.

Juba the King of Mauritania (of whom see what Plinie saith, nat. hist. lib. v, cap. 1.) hath written of Painters, and the eighth book of that same worke of his, is quoted by Harpocration in Parrhasius: the said King wrote also of the Art of painting, as wee learne out of the same Harpacrati­on in Polygnotus. Photius likewise in the choice histories of Sopater, quoteth Juba his second booke of the Art of painting.

Malchus Byzantius hath written about the firing of the publike librarie at Constantinople, and about the Statues that were in a place knowne by the name of Augustaeum. See Suidas.

[Page 108] Melanthius, a very renowned Painter, hath written a­bout the Art of Painting. See Laërt. lib. iv. in Polemon.

Menaechmus the Statuarie hath written about his owne Art, saith Plinie, lib. xxxiv, cap. 8. Athenaeus also lib. ii, cap. 24. and lib. xiv, cap. 4. quoteth Menaechmus his treatise of Artificers.

Menetor of Donaries, is mentioned by Athenaeus, lib. XIII, cap. 7.

Menodotus Samius hath written of the things consecrated in the temple of Juno at Samos: see Athenaeus lib. xiv, cap. 20.

Pamphilus hath written of the Art of painting, and of Famous Painters. See Suidas.

Polemon hath written a treatise of Painters to Antigo­nus, quoted by Athenaeus, lib. xi, cap. 6. Polemon of Pictures is mentioned by Laërtius, lib, vii, in Chrysippo: hee hath also written five bookes of the Donaries offered in the Castle at Athens; see Strabo, lib. ix. Geogr. as likewise ano­ther treatise of the Pictures that were at Athens, in the porch of the temple of Minerva; see Harpocration: further­more hath he written a treatise of the Pictures that were at Sicyon; see Athenaeus, lib. xiii, cap. 2. and this Polemon doth seem to be the same that is so often mentioned by Clemens Alexandrinus in Protrept: and by Laërtius, lib. ii. in Aristippus.

Porphyrius hath written of Statues, and Stobaeus doth quote somthing out of him, cap. xxv. Eclogarum physica­rum: but it is thought that this Porphyrius is the same with Malchus named above.

Prasiteles hath written five volumes of the noble works that were in the whole world. Plin. lib. xxxvi, cap. 5.

Protogenes the Painter left two bookes of the Art of painting and of Figures: see Suidas.

[Page 109] Theophanes of the Art of painting is mentioned by La­ert. in Aristippus.

Xenocrates the Statuarie made bookes of his Art, saith Plinie, lib. xxxiv, cap. 8. and againe, lib. xxxv, cap. 10. Antigonus and Xenocrates, saith hee, have written of Picture.


WEE have seene how God and Nature by their example stirre our inclinations to these Arts of imitation; how likewise carefull Parents cherishing that pronenesse perceived in some of their children, put them betimes to good and trustie Masters: but seeing ma­ny forward wittes were wont after a sufficient time of ap­prentiship, to shake off that respect they did owe unto their masters, there was also by wise and provident anti­quitie a very good course taken to with-hold such pre­sumptuous perverters of discipline from this unadvised temeritie by the feare of most severe and strict lawes made against the corrupters of Artes and Sciences: neither was there only such care taken about needfull Sciences, but al­so about the Artes that were more for recreation then ne­cessary use. As it cannot be denied that the Artes of til­ling the ground, and building of houses are most usefull for our poore and needy life, so doe wee find that the true knowledg, and sincere practise of these Arts hath been up­holden by most severe lawes. Agellius teacheth us con­cerning [Page 110] husbandrie, that the Romanes were very carefull to maintain it; if any one by slothfulnesse, saith hee Lib. IV. noct. Attic. cap. 12., suffe­red his ground to grow foul and full of weeds, never plowing nor weeding it; if any one likewise did neglect his vine or tree, he was punishable and obnoxious unto the censures of such con­trollers or masters of discipline, as at Rome were called Cen­sores, who did disfranchise such a carelesse man, putting him from his freedome: as for Architecture, it was likewise up­holden by the rigour of Law: in the Noble and great citie of Ephesus there was an ancient law in force, saith Vitruvius. In praefa­tione libri Decimi. which though it might seem somwhat harsh, yet was it not to be esteemed unjust: for an Architect, when he undertaketh a publikeworke, agreeth upon the price thereof, and his rate given up, all his goods are engaged to the Magistrates till the worke be finished; that ended, if the whole charge agree with the rate set downe, hee is honoured with publick decrees and dig­nities; if it exceed but by one fourth part onely, so much is to be added to the former rate, and to be answered by the publick treasurie, and the architect is free from tax or punishment; but if more then one fourth part, above the price agreed for, be spent in the work, it is exacted and payed out of the goods of the un­dertaker.

Wee doe see by these examples how peremptorie the ancients were about such neeedfull Sciences; and yet were they as resolute to preserve the Arts chiefly intended for the recreation of man. A Musician was put to a fine at Ar­gos, sayth Plutarch De Musicâ., for augmenting the number of strings, whereas others before him did content themselves with se­ven. The Lacedaemonians also thought it good to banish Timotheus Milesius out of their Citie, when he went about to corrupt the Art by innovation; and as for the very words of a most vehement decree made by the Lacedaemonians a­gainst [Page 111] this same Timotheus, they are very remarkable as Boe­thius setteth them downe lib. I. Musicae, cap. 1. Alexander the Great having made choice of the poët Choerilus to write his deeds, made withall a contract with him, that for every good verse he should have a piece of Byzantian golden coine, and for every bad one he should have a box on the eare: but writing more bad then good verses, he was at length buffeted to death, as it is reported by the old Com­mentator upon Horace his Art. There was at Thebes a law, by the which Artificers and Painters were bidden to ex­presse the forms of images after the best manner they could: and all such as made them worse, were put to a fine: see Ae­lianus var. hist. lib. IV. cap. 4.

§ 2. As it was then a very brave enterprise, and relish­ing the severity of such an uncorrupt age to secure the Arts by punishing the transgressors; so was it for all that a grea­ter matter and more sutable to the humanitie of the same times, to prevent all depravations so carefully by good and wholesome lawes, that there should be no need of any pu­nishment. Sloathfull and languishing idlenesse, sayth Valerius Maximus Lib. II. cap. 6. ex­emplo 3. & 4., is at Athens drawne forth out of her lurking holes unto the publik view and is judged guilty of an ungracious and shamefull offence. The same Citie hath also a most sacred coun­sell, called Arcopagus, where a very diligent search was wont to be made what every Athenion did, and how he got his li­ving: thus men were forced to live honestly, knowing that they were to give a strict account of their life. See also Aelianus var. hist. lib. IV. cap. 1. and Laeërt. lib. 1. in Solon. There was yet another excellent law at Athens, that youths being now thir­teene or fourteene yeares of age should be brought unto the Arts, and that after this manner: the instruments of every kinde of Art being propounded publikely, the youths were brought neere; [Page 112] and as they did run to one or other of these instruments with an eager delight, so were they taught that Art whose instruments they had snatched up: because such things most commonly doe succeed well, to the which our nature leadeth us; and such things on the contrary doe deceive our hopes, that are undertaken with an unwilling minde, sayth Gregorie Nazianzene Epistolâ 63. Alexis commendeth the Athenians, sayth Vitruvius In praefatio­ne libri sex­ti., because where the lawes of all other Grecians goe about to constraine child en that they should maintaine their old parents, the A­thenian lawes command such parents onely to be maintained by their children, which had taught their children good Arts: seeing all things Fortune bestoweth upon us, are easily taken a­way by the same Fortune; but disciplines, being once sunke deep into our minds, doe never faile us to the last gaspe. See also Ga­len in his Exhortation to the Arts: but Plutarch most of all in the life of Solon, where he teacheth us what moved Solon to make this law. When Solon perceived, sayth Plutarch, that the City was more and more filled with a multitude of men that flocked to the Attike Countrey by reason of the libertie they en­joyed there, and saw that the greatest part of the Countrey was naught and barren, that the sea-faring men also brought no­thing in, as having nothing in their Country to give for the commodities of other Countries, he turned the Athenians to all manner of Arts; making a law withall, that a sonne should not be bound to maintaine his father that had not taught him any good Art to live by. Upon this consideration therefore may we very well conclude, that the Athenians by the force of these lawes have deserved such a commendation as Plutarch giveth them; the Citie of Athens, sayth he Bellone an pace clariores fuerint Athe­nienses., hath beene a bountifull mother and nurce of a great many Arts; for shee first invented some of them, and upon some shee bestowed honour, force, and increase: so is also the Art of Painting very much ad­vanced [Page 113] by this same Citie. Aristides In Orat. Panathenai­câ. also calleth Athens the naturall Country or birth place of all good things, and a school­mistresse of all Sciences and Arts: and therefore doth shee not onely excell in Statues, but also in Statuaries.

§ 3. Having now alreadie mentioned the lawes establi­shed at Argos, Ephesus, Thebes, and at Athens for the preser­vation of Arts, we may not forget here an Aegyptian law made to the same purpose; the Aegyptians, sayth Diod. Sicu­lus Lib. I. Bi­blioth., have most of all polished all manner of workmanship, bringing it to some perfection: for a workman among them is fearefully punished, if he undertake any charge in the Common­wealth, or else if he meddle with any trade but his owne; seeing no Artificer may usurp any publike office in Aegypt, nor professe any trade that is not appointed him by the law and delivered by his Parents; least by chance a malicious envie of Masters, the occupation of civill affaires, or any other occasion should hinder him in the Art he is to exercise. Dicaearchus Apud scho­liastem Apol­lonii Rhodii, ad versū 272 libri IV. Ar­gonaut. teacheth us that Sesonchosis King of Aegypt made this law, that no bodie should forsake his Fathers art; as if that were a beginning of an unsatiable covetousnesse. See Isocrates his praise of Busiris, for he speaketh there somewhat more at large of this same Aegyptian law.

Herodotus Lib. VI. hist. sayth that the Lacedaemonians also have ap­proved of this law, following in this point the custome of the Aegyptians. Strabo Lib. XV. Geograph. likewise doth attribute this same custome unto the Indians: and againe in another place Lib. XVI. Geograph. to the Arabians. As for the Aegyptians, we may very well judge with Diodorus, that by the meanes of this law they have at­tained to such a perfection of Art as shall be related in the third Chapter of our Third Booke. Neither is it possible but such Artificers must needs excell, that doe not admit any care but one. Hence is it that Plato Lib. IX. de Legib. sendeth away out [Page 114] of his Citie all such Artificers as busie themselves with two severall Arts. It is better to doe one thing excellently, sayth the younger Plinie Lib. IX. Epist. 29., then doe many things meanly. Aesopus sayd, as it is reported by Stobaeus Sermone de Republicâ., that it is then like to goe ill with all, when all men shall studie all things. Neither is it possible, sayth Quintilian Orat. instit. lib. x. cap. 3., that our whole minde should busie it selfe with many things at once; for whensoever it doth but looke backe, it ceaseth to marke what it beheld before.


AS now the feare of severe lawes kept them in awe, that went rashly about to leave the wholesome precepts of their good Masters; so on the contrary, good natures that would not swerve presumptuously aside from the received instructions, were mightily incensed by emulati­on to follow them constantly that sped well in this same way. The love of emulation is stronger then the feare of punish­ment threatned by lawes, sayth Tacitus Lib. III. Annal. c. 55.. Vertue doth natural­ly affect glory, and studieth ever to out-goe his fore-runners, sayth Seneca Lib. III. de Benef. c. 36.. A horse doth then best of all run his race, sayth Ovid Lib. III. de Arte., when he is in the company of other horses which he may leave behinde him or follow. It was bravely sayd of Scipio A­fricanus, I am sure, sayth he Apud Livi­um li. xxviii. ab v. c., that every magnanimous spirit doth not compare himselfe onely with them that are now at this present alive, but also with the famous men of all ages. It be­ing therefore manifest enough that the greatest wits are e­ver by the prickes of emulation driven forward to greater matters, it appeareth likewise that it is alwayes a certaine [Page 115] marke of a most base and dull spirit not to be stirred up to emulation by the earnestnesse of so many competitors as doe strive to attaine to the same perfection of Art: so is it also most commonly seene, that such as doe strive with no body, deceive themselves with too much love of their owne workes; and whilest they compare themselves onely with themselves, it is unpossible but they must needs fall into a foolish liking and a most vaine admiration of what they have done. He must needs attribute too much unto himselfe, sayth Quintilian Lib. I. orat. instit. cap. 2., that doth compare himselfe with no bodie. We stand therefore in need of Emulation, and that not a vulgar one; Doest thou desire the glory of swiftnesse? sayth Martial Lib. XII. Epigram. 36., studie to goe beyond the tyger and the light Ostrich. It is no glory at all to out-run asses.

§ 2. Tullie giveth us a very good lesson; it is meet, sayth he Circa initi­um libri de Perfecto o­ratore., that all such as doe long with a fervent desire after great matters, should try all: and if any one hath not the ready helpe of his owne nature, if he lack the force of a piercing wit, if he thinke himselfe but slenderly furnished with the disciplines of great Arts, let him for all that hold the best course he may; see­ing it is honourable enough that they which doe strive for the first place, should be seene in the second or third: neither have workmen instantly withdrawne themselves from the Arts they did professe, because they could not imitate the beautie of that Venus at Coos, or of that Jalysus wee saw sometimes at Rhodes; neither hath the image of Jupiter Olympius, or the statue of Doryphorus amazed them so much, as that they should not try what they could performe, and how farre they might goe: yea there hath rather been such a multitude of them, and every one hath deserved so much praise in his kinde, that the best of their works causing admiration, the meaner neverthelesse have obtained approbation. See Columella in the preface of his first [Page 116] Booke of Husbandry, where he maketh a large discourse upon these very words of Cicero. But most of all doe the words of Velleius Paterculus demand our attention: for af­ter he hath expressed his admiration, that so many brave wits and Artificers within a small compasse of time should at once rise and fall, he staggereth at it, not knowing what rea­son to give of so sudden an encrease and decrease of Arts, till at length he contenteth himselfe with this conjecture: Emulation, sayth he Sub finem libri primi hist., is a nource of wits: and whilest our imitation is provoked sometimes by envie, sometimes by admi­ration, it falleth out that the thing earnestly sought after, is quickly brought to some height of perfection: but then is it a very hard matter that any thing should continue long in that perfection; seeing naturally, what cannot goe forward, goeth backward: and as at the first we are very well disposed, to over­take them that run before us; so, when we doe despaire to goe be­yond them or else to keepe an even pace with them, our earnest­nesse together with our hope groweth cold, and ceaseth to follow what it cannot overtake: leaving therefore the whole matter, as being afore-hand seased upon by others, wee seeke a new one; and passing by that, wherein we cannot excell, we doe looke a­bout for something to worke upon: whereupon it followeth that a frequent and wavering change turneth to be the greatest hin­drance of perfection.

§ 3. Although now the ancient Artificers were questi­onlesse by the heat of Imitation and by the unsufferable prickings of Emulation forcibly driven to a more earnest and accurat study of Art, yet doe we not thinke that these Arts have been onely advanced by the mutuall Emulation there was betwixt the Artificers themselves, but we do hold that the great fame of many most eloquent men in those times hath also stirred up the lively spirits of the Artificers, [Page 117] not suffering them to rest till they had wrought something that might deserve the like fame. This may be gathered out of the words of Plutarch alleadged before Lib. I. c. 4. § 2.: so hath it also been observed in latter times that the ages excelling in elo­quence, have also excelled in these Arts. All manner of sci­ences and eloquence have been revived in Germanie, sayth Fe­lix Faber Lib. I. histo­riae Suevorū, cap. 8., and consequently all kinde of wittie Arts, as Pain­ting and Carving: for these Arts do love one another wonder­full well: Picture doth require wit, Eloquence also doth de­mand wit; not an ordinary one, but a high and profound wit. It is a wonderfull thing, that picture hath ever flourished when eloquence did beare a great sway; as the times of Demosthe­nes and Cicero teach us: but eloquence falling, picture also could not stand any longer.


GOod natures then that were loath to shame their good Masters, did with all care and di­ligence emulate the best works of old renow­ned Artificers, taking speciall notice of that same simplicitie of Art so much commended in ancient workes. Arts are advanced, not so much by them that dare make a great shew of Art, but rather by them that know how to find out what there is in every Art, sayth Isocra­tes Contra So­phist as.. Adorne any thing purely and soberly, sayth Agellius Noct. Attic. lib. VII. cap. 14,, and it shall grow better and better; daube it over on the contrary with the painting colour of women, and it shall resemble a jug­glers delusion: neither doth any thing marre and falsifie the integritie of Art so much, as the astonished perswasion of [Page 118] them that conceive nothing to be faire and praise-worthy, but what is costly and farre remote from the simplicitie of the Ancients. Such is alwayes the condition of our minds, that the workes begun with necessary things, end most common­ly with superfluous, sayth Plinie Nat. hist. lib. xxvi. cap. 4.. Apelles, Echion, Melan­thius, Nicomachus, most famous Painters, sayth the same Pli­nie Lib. xxxv. cap. 7., have made these immortall workes with foure colours onely; and yet was every one of their workes sold by it selfe for the wealth of whole Cities. Now on the contrary is there never a noble picture made, though purple settleth it selfe upon our walls, though India bringeth in the mud of her rivers, as also the corrupt bloud of Dragons and Elephants: see Plinie him­selfe, for the setteth downe in the same place the particular names of these foure colours used by them. It will not be a­misse to expound, sayth Vitruvius Lib. VII. cap. 1., why the integritie of work­manship is now adayes put down by false and adulterate wayes; for what laborious and industrious antiquitie did study to have commended for the Art, the same doe our Artificers obtaine by the fine shew of rare colours; and the cost bestowed upon the worke by the patron of the worke, bringeth to passe, that the au­thoritie ancient works drew out of the subtiltie of the Artificer, is not so much as desired. Who was there among the ancients but he did use vermilian sparingly, and even after the manner of a medicament? but now are there every where whole walls daubed over with it, as also with Chrysocolle, Ostrum, Arme­nium: which things, when they are used in painting, draw the eyes by their glistering brightnesse, though they be never placed by any art: and because they are very chargeable and costly, the law hath excepted them, that namely the patrone of the worke should exhibite and provide them, not the Artificer. There was also another wanton device of chargeable Art, tending to the undoing of this same simplicitie we speake of, yea cau­sing [Page 119] the uttermost ruine of the whole Art it selfe. Picture, an Art noble in times past, sayth Plinie Lib. xxxv. nat. hist. cap. 1., is now altogether thrust out by marble and gold: not onely that whole walls are covered with it, but that marble also is scraped and filed for to make party-coloured crusts representing severall things and beasts: the lower squares of pillars have lost their estimation they were in; no more are whole spaces of hils that lie hid in our privie chambers liked of: we have begun to paint stones also: this was found out in the times of Claudius his government: as it was first instituted in Nero his times to vary the unitie of a stone by inserting such spots into the crust as were not by na­ture: that namely the Numidian stone might be filled with o­valls, and the Synnadian should seeme to be distinguished with purple; even as waiward delicacies would have them grow.

§ 2. The ancient Painters of better sort, did constantly follow this same study of simplicitie; neither did they spare those that durst shew themselves addicted to an effeminate­ly remisse and a most corrupt kinde of sumptuous work­manship: so was it that Apelles, as Lib. II. Paedagog. cap. 12. Clemens Alexandrinus reporteth, seeing one of his scholars busie with the picture of Helen, the which was afterwards named the golden He­len, sayd unto the youth, Because you knew not how to paint her faire, you have made her rich. Although great Masters in old times did labour mightily to recall such de­praving of Art to the uncorruptnesse of severe judgements, yet could they not prevaile so much, but that the sophisti­cated Art, abounding with many sweet vices, drew still the eyes and minds of unadvised spectators; and so were after­wards the greatest part of the Artificers by a heartlesse lus­kishnesse perswaded to soften such things as els would have been full of strength, yea they did not sticke to change the manly countenance of Art by an affectation of a seeming [Page 120] grace; little regarding what strength there was in their workes, if they were but smoothly trimme and well liked of by the vulgar sort. There is a wonderfull great difference between pure neatnesse and curious affectation, sayth Plu­tarch Lib. VI. Sympos. pro­blem. 7.. Things more honest are also more specious in a bodie that doth not fit it selfe for luxury and lust, sayth Quintilian Lib. XII. cap. 10.. So sayth also the same Author in another place Lib. V. cap. 12., When I look upon Nature it selfe, any man is fairer, in my opinion, then an Bunuch: so cannot Providence disdain her own worke so much, as to suffer debilitie to be reckoned among the best inventions; neither can I thinke that any thing is made fairer by cutting, which if it were brought forth so, should be counted a monster. Let lust therefore glory in the counterfeit effeminatenesse of the maimed sex; yet shall not evill customes get so much master­ship, as to make it good also, what they have made precious.


COnstant Emulators in the meane time, expres­sing prosperously the sayd simplicitie of the ancient Art, felt their mindes withall filled with the sweet contentment of what they did: wondering therefore at the strange ef­fects of such plaine workmanship, they could not choose but chearefully pursue the same way of Art. It is more de­lightfull to an Artificer, sayth Seneca Epistolà 9., to paint, then to have done painting: our sollicitude, as long as shee busieth her selfe about the worke, taketh a singular great pleasure in the occupa­tion it selfe: he is nothing neere so much delighted, that hath al­readie [Page 121] accomplished the worke: for he doth now enjoy the fruit of his Art; whereas before, whilest he did paint, he enjoyed the Art it selfe. The youthfull yeares of our children are more bene­ficiall and profitable, but their infancie for all that is a great deale sweeter. Plutarch giveth us a lively example of the pleasure a working Artificer enjoyeth; as many as love to paint, sayth he Inlibello cui titulus, Non p [...]sse suaviter vivi secūdùm Epicurum., are so taken with the goodly shew of their workes in hand, that Nicias, when he made a picture famous by the name Necya, did often aske his servants whether he had dined? His mind forsooth fed upon the study of his worke, finding greater dainties in that contemplation, then in any other banquet whatsoever. I have seene Painters doe their worke, sayth Libanius Declamat. VI., singing. Neither doth it deserve any admiration that they should worke with so much ease, see­ing the workman is still refreshed and encouraged by the spirit infused into him by an unexpected successe, bestirring himselfe as if the things themselves and not the images were a-doing: there is every where nothing but life and motion; so are also these new upgrowing things entertained with a great deale of favour and sollicitude, sayth Quintilian Lib. X. c. 1.. This same favour also together with the conceived hope conducing to the fertilitie of our wit, sayth Lucan. carm. ad Pisonem.

§ 2. As many then as doe wonder at and deride the in­defatigable and vehement fervencie great wits doe use a­bout the workes of art, have never loved any thing worth studie and care; neither have they so much as understood that our better and more divine part, if it be not altogether base and degenerate, is nourished or rather feasted with ho­nest and delectable labours, even from our tender child­hood. We doe see therefore how little children themselves can­not rest, sayth Tullie Lib. V. de Finibus bon. & malo­rum., and as they grow more in yeares, they love so well to be alwayes in action, that they can hardly be [Page 122] beaten from laborious and toilesome playes: so doth also this desire of doing alwayes something, still encrease with their ages. It is then evident that we are borne to doe alwayes something: see also Seneca, epist. 39.

§ 3. And in good truth, what shall we say to this? can there be any so great contentment in the possession of a vast and endlesse estate, in the enjoying of all kinde of pleasures and delights, as to see men of great places and authoritie, that live in great abundance and plentie, and doe not want the good will of the world, assemble themselves together and make a ring about the astonished Artificer? who being thus graced by most eminent persons, how do all other men upon any occasion accompany him? What shew doth he make in publike places? what veneration doth he finde in the assemblies of men of good note? how sensible is he of the joyes that doe tickle his heart when he seeth the eyes of all men with a silent admiration fixed upon him alone? when he perceiveth that his name is one of the first names parents acquaint their children with? when he findeth that the unlearned and carelesse multitude hath got his name, and telleth it one to another at his going by? country peo­ple also and strangers having heard of him in the places of their abode, as soone as they come to Towne, enquire for him first of all, desirous to see the face of him they heard so much of: any wit almost may be enflamed, sayth Ovid Lib. III. de Ponto, Eleg. 4., by the applause and cheerfull favour of the people.

§ 4. But why should I reckon up these ordinarie joyes, that lie open also to the eyes of ignorant men, seeing there are secret delights of greater moment, felt and knowne by none but the Artificer himselfe? for when he publisheth an accurat and well be laboured worke, the sound and solid joy conceived out of the absolutenesse of the worke hath as [Page 123] well a certaine weight and durable constancie, as the work it selfe; when he bringeth on the contrary a sudden and halfe polished worke to the view of the world, the anguish and perplexitie of his timorous minde doth commend the good successe the more unto him, so that he doth most heartily embrace the pleasure of his fortunate boldnesse. And how is it possible, I pray you, that such an Artificer should not thinke himselfe a most happie man, which upon a just affiance of his vertues knoweth himselfe to be lifted up above the reach of envie, where he standeth secure of his fame; enjoying in this life, as if he were now alreadie consecrated unto eternitie, the veneration that is like to follow him after his death: it is a most comfortable thing to have a fore-feeling of what we hope to attaine unto, sayth the younger Plinie Lib. IV. ep. 15.: so sayth also Latinus Pacatus, the flitting pleasure of sudden successes, sayth he Panegyr. Theodosio Aug. dicto., as it taketh us, so doth it leave us: it is a longer felicitie when we are secure of what we expect: neither have some great Masters in old times de­dicated their best workes at Delphis in the temple of Apollo with any other intent, but that they should in their life time preoccupie a lively feeling of an everlasting name. Those that have hung up unto the Gods great donaries, sayth Libani­us In Antio­chico., passe the rest of their time with a great deale of pleasant­nesse, as having now in their daily conversation some fine thing of their owne to relate: yea if they had many other things to say that might make them famous, yet would they goe by all the rest, and boast most confidently that they doe not feare to be buried in oblivion, seeing their worke remaineth in the finest place under the Sunne: neither doth this confidence de­ceive them; for whosoever doth shew the study of his minde in places of great resort, procureth unto himselfe an ever­lasting glorie: such is, in my opinion, the case of those [Page 124] Painters, who have consecrated the wisdome of their hands at Delphis.


AS then the sweetnesse they felt in a happie ex­pressing of that ancient simplicitie made them still to advance these Arts with an undefati­gable studie, so was likewise the manifold and every where obvious use of these Arts a great cause of their augmentation; seeing men love alwayes to take the greatest paines about such Arts and Sciences, as are in greatest request: the provocations of vices have also aug­mented the Art: it hath been pleasing to engrave wanton lusts upon the cups, and to drinke in ribauldrie abominations, sayth Plinie In prooemio libri xxxiii.. Daedalus made a woodden Cowe, to accomplish the shamefull desire of Pasiphaë withall; see Higynus Fabuia 40.. But we are resolved to insist onely upon more honest causes: and certainly, all mankinde hath beene very much wronged by them, that would goe and fetch these prodigious mini­steries of base lust from so noble Arts; even as we have good reason to detest their importunate wits, that have tur­ned the humanitie of such gentle Arts to the instruments of crueltie. Medea went about to overthrow Pelias by a hol­low image of Diana; see Diadorus Siculus lib. IV. Biblioth. Perilaus his brasen bull is knowne by the Epistle Phalaris wrote to the Athenians concerning Perilaus his execution. Agathocles his litter is mentioned by Diod. Siculus lib. xx. Nabis the tyrant, his Apega is described by Polybius lib. xviii. Ovid In Ibin, vers. 569. remembreth a horse made of maple tree, wherein the [Page 125] throat of miserable men was broke. The Carthaginians had a brasen statue of Saturne, stretching forth his hands toward the ground after such a manner, that the babe offered him for sacrifice might role downe into the flaming fire that was underneath; see Diod. Siculus lib. xx. Some of the French have huge images, whose great limmes made of twigges they doe fill with men that are to be burned alive; see Cae­sar lib. VI. de bello Gall. cap. 16. as also Tullie pro Manio Fon­teio, and Strabo lib. IV. Geogr. There was in a cave at Rome a wonderfull great dragon made by mechanicall art, carry­ing a sword in his mouth, with eyes of precious stones fear­fully glistering: unto this dragon there was yearely offered a sacrifice of devoted Virgins handsomly trimmed up with flowers: and when these Virgins, being ignorant of the danger, meant to goe downe to offer their gifts, as soone as they did but touch that step of the ladder at which the dragon by a diabolicall art did hang, their innocent bloud was instantly shed by the sword they met withall. A cer­taine monke at length, which for his merits was well known unto Stilico, destroyed him after this manner: trying eve­ry step at his going down, he found out the divelish deceit; and warily shunning that same false step, he came so neere as to cut the dragon in pieces; shewing here also that they are no Gods which are made by the hand of man: see D. Prosper. part III. de Promiss. & praedictionib. Dei, promiss. 38. Ungodly Kings and Princes also were wont to trie the mindes of the true worshippers of God, by exposing their owne statues and the statues of other false Gods publikely to be adored; and that with no other intent, but that the servants of the living God might be found out and destroy­ed: so we read that Nabuchodonosor, puffed up by prosperi­tie, made an exceeding great golden statue, to be adored of [Page 126] all them that had their mindes depraved by flattery, none but Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were found to have abstained from that profane office, wherefore they were by the Kings command immediately bound and cast into the firie furnace: see the prophecie of Daniel cap. 3. see Plinius junior lib. x. epist. 97. and 98. Licinnius hath even after the same manner gone about to exercise crueltie upon Auxen­tius: see Suidas where he speaketh of Auxentius. Let us now leave the examples of such a beastly fiercenesse, seeing they doe not deserve to be related among the causes of the encrease of Art; as on the contrary we may very well judge that they have deserved a great deale better of the whole world, who studied to advance these Arts by transferring them unto all kinde of things honest or at least not disho­nest.

§ 2. But here seemeth the greatest encrease of Art at the first to have been occasioned by necessitie; seeing it is gran­ted that inventions to supplie our wants, are more ancient, then those that serve onely to satisfie our pleasure, sayth Tul­lie De Perf. o­ratore.. Whatsoever is usefull, hath his turne before any other thing onely delightfull, sayth Varro Lib. I. de Re rust. cap. 4.. Man, a sociable crea­ture, not knowing how to speake to men of another lan­guage, nor to them that were absent, or should live a good while after him, was forced (before the invention of let­ters and writing) to make use of certaine figures taken from the similitude of divers beasts, plants, and other artificiall things: and so doe we finde that the industry of the most ancient times expressed the inward and secret conceits of any mans minde by the helpe of such markes. Diod. Siculus speaking of the Aethiopians, the most ancient of all Nations in his opinion, their letters, sayth he, resemble divers living creatures, as also extremities of men, and most of all artificers [Page 127] instruments: for their words are not expressed by the composi­tion of syllables and letters, but they are under the forme and signification of images printed into the memory of men by use. Corn. Tacitus also speaking of the Aegyptians, the Aegyptians did first of all, sayth he A [...]. lib, XI, cap. 14., set forth the meaning of their minde by figures of living creatures: and the most ancient monuments of humane memorie are as yet seene printed in stones after such a manner. Necessitie did also drive Philomela to expresse by a woven picture the grievous case shee was in; see Ovid lib. VI. Metam. as also Ausonius epist. 23. but most of all A­chilles Tatius, Philomela, sayth he Lib. V. de amorib. Cli­tophontis & Leucippes., found out a silent voice; for shee weaveth a long vesture, describing therein the tragicall fact; her hand performeth the office of her tongue, and shee doth discover unto the eyes of Progne things belonging to her eares, telling her by the meanes of a shittle what shee hath suffered; Progne from the vesture understandeth the rape. It seemeth also that principall men at Rome, upon consideration of this necessitie, perswaded Q. Pedius to practise the Art of pain­ting. Q. Pedius, sayth Plinie Lib. xxxv. natur. hist. cap. 4., nephew to that consular and triumphall Q. Pedius, who by Caesar the Dictator was made co-heire with August, being dumbe by nature; Messalla the O­rator, out of whose familie the boy's grandmother was, did think it fit to have him taught the Art of painting, August himselfe being also of that opinion: he died a boy, having profited very well in the Art. Although spoken, it seemeth but a slight matter; yet, being well considered, it is a mightie thing, that Picture speaketh the language of all men; whereas a­mong severall Nations there is such a wonderfull diversity of speaking, that a forrainer doth hardly seeme a man unto them that are of another Countrie.

§ 3. The usuall way of Sciences giveth us also an evi­dent proofe of the necessitie of these Arts; seeing it is pra­ctised [Page 128] almost in all Arts and Sciences, that the cleerest grounds an Artist is able to propound, are yet illustrated and cleered by Picture: how often chanceth it in the natu­rall science that, when words come short, a little picture bringeth us to the knowledge of beasts, birds, fishes, and all sorts of vermine wee never saw before? this is very often confessed by Aelian Lib. XV. de Animalib. & alibi. in his Historie of beasts: neither may we doubt but that all mankinde should be overwhelmed with a thicker mist of ignorance then it is now, if this gene­rous Art did not sometimes step in and set forth in a small image what many words cannot describe: so doe likewise all Arts of warre and peace lacke the aide of Picture. A Tactike shall never know how to set his men in aray, unlesse he doe first trie the case by designe or delineation: so doe we read that Penelope Apud Ovi­dium, in epist. Heroid. doth attribute this same skill to the ancient Worthies, saying that they being returned home from the Trojan warre, did paint in their feasts the whole besieged Citie and all the manner of warre with a little wine upon the boord. Likewise doth the same Author elswhere Lib. II. de Arte. mention that Aeneas at the request of Calypso did paint the siege of Troy with all the circumstances that might be ob­served in such a siege. Vegetius Lib. II. de Re militari, cap. 11. at length when he recko­neth up all such kinde of workmen as are of necessitie to be added to every legion, placeth Painters among the rest of these Artificers that might not be spared in an Armie. An Architect also had need to have some skill in drawing, that he may the easier pourtray in his painted platformes any fashion of worke his minde putteth him upon, sayth Vitruvius, lib. I. Architect. cap. 1. Although a cunning Architect must not onely know how to delineate the worke he taketh in hand, but he must know also, if need be, how to worke out the patterne of his intended worke in wax or clay. Doe yee not [Page 129] see the Architects, sayth Greg. Nyssenus Orat. III. in Resurr. Christi., how they doe worke out the patterns of huge and mightie buildings in a little wax, and how the proportion of so small an example keepeth the same force in a greater structure? In many other Arts we doe find the selfe-same necessitie. Geometrie and Astrologie goe farre beyond Apelles and Polycletus; for they doe counterfeit every thing so lively, as if the Labyrinth-maker Daedalus had contri­ved them, sayth Martianus Capella Lib. VI. de Philol. & Mercurii nuptiis.. Archimedes Siculus did cunningly make the similitude and figure of the world in hollow brasse, painting also the celestiall signes on that same brasse, sayth Lactantius De origine erroris, ca. 5.. The Greeke Authors of Physick, Cratevas, Dionysius, Metrodorus, have after a most pleasant way pain­ted the shapes of hearbs, writing their effects underneath, sayth Plinie Lib. xxv. cap. 2.. Many sorts of birds were painted in the Hetrurian discipline, sayth the same Plinie Lib. X. cap. 15.. Such as wrote the lives of great and famous men, were wont also to joyne their painted images unto the relation made of them; that po­steritie might as well view the picture of their bodies as of their mindes. T. Pomponius Atticus expressed in verse who they were among the Romanes that did excell in honour and great deeds, so that their deeds and honours are described under every one his image with no more but foure or five verses, sayth Corn. Nepos In vitâ At­tici.. Varro likewise studied to extend the fame of illustrious men after the same manner. Plinie spea­keth of them both at once; that the love of images hath been much in request, sayth he Lib. xxxv, cap. 2., is witnessed by Atticus, that friend of Cicero, seeing he published a volume of images: it is wit­nessed also by M. Varro, who by a most bountifull invention in­serted into the fertilitie of his volumes not the names onely, but in some manner the images also of seven hundred illustrious Worthies; not suffering their shapes to perish, nor age to pre­vaile against men; deserving the envie of the Gods themselves [Page 130] by the invention of such a gift; since he did not onely bestow im­mortalitie upon them, but sent them also abroad into all Coun­tries, that they might be present every where and carried about. The interpreters also of sacred histories are likewise now and then forced to make use of these Arts; the picture of the tabernacle, of the temple of God, made after the likenesse of hea­ven, sayth Cassiodorus De Divinis lectionib. c. 5., as it was cunningly drawne in his proper lineaments, hath been fitted by me in the Latine pan­dects after a most competent manner. The same Author spea­keth also of painted patterns for Book-binders; I have ex­pressed for the Book-binders, sayth he Ibidem, cap. 30., severall wayes of bin­dings, painted all in one volume; to the end a scholar might choose such a fashion of covering as he shall like best. The most usefull studie of Geographie at length, without some helpe of Picture, will be nothing else but a temerarie error of our wandring minde; and every one of us must say with Pro­pertius Lib. IV. Eleg. 3., I am compelled to learne the painted worlds out of a mappe. The poët sayth very well, I am compelled, seeing the most industrious studie of perusing all the laborious com­mentaries of Geographers can give us but a confused and obscure view of what one painted sheet of paper propoun­deth unto our eyes most clearely. And as the study of Geo­graphy is found to be upholden by Picture, so must travel­lers also that would have their travels knowne, not be alto­gether ignorant in this Art; such as have travelled by sea and by land, sayth Macrobius Saturnal. lib. VII, cap. 2., rejoyce when they are asked about the situation of an unknowne Country, or about one or other bay of the sea; they doe answer therefore most willingly, describing the places sometimes with words, sometimes with a sticke; e­steeming it no small glory to represent to the eyes of others what they themselves have seene. It would be an easie matter to shew here the like use of Picture in many other Sciences, [Page 131] if we did not hasten to greater benefits famous Generalls have enjoyed by the means of these Arts both in warre and peace.

§ 4. Michal meaning to save her husband David from the persecution of her father Saul, fained him to be sick, having muffled up in the bed an image in stead of her husband Da­vid, who had leisure enough to get away whilest the Kings messengers were so deceived: see 1 Sam. xix. 13. The corpse of Alexander the Great did lie a great while unburied, the Princes quarrelling most eagerly about the succession to the crowne; neither would they in haste have minded any such thing, if Aristander had not foretold them as by a propheti­call inspiration, that the Country which should receive the bodie of so fortunate a King, should have no need to feare any invasion; whereupon every one strove to enterre the Roiall corpse in the Country where his government chan­ced to be. But when Perdiccas perceived that Ptolėmaeus ha­ving prevented him made all possible haste to bring the Kings dead bodie into Aegypt, he made likewise after him with an armed force, and a great deal of bloud would have been spilled that day between them two, if Ptolemaeus had not abused Perdiccas cunningly, by letting him snatch away an image of Alexander his body for the body it selfe: see Ae­lianus var. hist. lib. XII, cap. ultimo. The stratagem of the Troian-horse needs not be related; Virgil and other authors being full of it. Ctesias Cnidius reporteth in his Persian histo­ries Apud Pho­tium. that Cyrus assaulting the citie Sardis, by the advice of Oehares filled the ground round about with woodden ima­ges of Persians, and that the townsmen frighted with such a multitude of enemies, yeelded the citie: see also Theon so­phista progymn. cap. XI. Jul. Frontinus lib. III. Stratag. cap. 8. Tzetzes Chiliad. I, hist. 1. Such another stratagem hath been [Page 132] used by Semiramis: see Diod. Siculus lib. II. as also Tzetzes Chil. XII, hist. 452. Spartaous did likewise by the same means escape his enemies that had beset him on every side: see Frontinus lib. I. Stratag. cap. 5. The Lacedaemonians to­gether with their confederates having gathered an Armie of forty thousand men, made an invasion into the Country of the Thebanes. Epaminondas perceiving that the The­banes were much frighted with such a multitude, would not lead them forth to meet the enemy before he had lessened their feare and filled them with a most resolute courage. There was at Thebes an image of Pallas holding a pike in the right hand, and a shield downe at the knees: this image he caused to be altered in the night time, and opened in the morning about the time of his setting forth all the churches that were in the Citie, wishing his Country-men to pray to the Gods for good successe: but they, having found the Goddesse her posture quite altered from what it was before, were much amazed, as if the Goddesse did stretch forth her weapons against the enemies; whereupon Epaminondas bid them be of good cheare, since the Goddesse shewed herself readie to meet the enemies. This plot of his did prevaile so much with the Thebanes, that they had the better of the day. Polyaenus lib. II. Stratagematum. L. Sylla plotting how to make his Souldiers more forward to fight, made a shew as if the Gods did foretell him things to come; and at length in the sight of his Armie, that was now readie for the bat­tle, he brought forth a little image which he had taken away from Delphis, beseeching it to hasten the promised victory: see Frontinus Stratag. lib. I, cap. 145. Valer. Maximus lib. I, cap. 2. exemplo 3. Plutarch In Sylla. addeth that this image used by Sylla was a golden image of Apollo. Theagenes also inten­ding to goe any whither, was wont to consult an image [Page 133] of Hecate, which he had ever about him: see Suidas. Jupi­ter recalled Juno from an intended divorcement by the means of a statue: see Pausanias lib. IX. Amasis abolished the unnaturall custome of humane sacrifices, used at Heli­opolis, a citie of Aegypt; commanding there should be made three images of wax, in the place of three men that were to be offered unto Juno: see Porphyrius lib. II. de Abstinentiâ: so doth Servius say very well to this purpose: We must know, sayth he Ad versum 116. Secundi Aeneid., that things fained in sacrifices are taken for true things: wherefore, when a sacrifice is to be made of such crea­tures as are hard to come by, they are made of paste or waxe, and are taken for true ones. The Aegyptians did contemne their King Amasis at the first beginnings of his government, be­cause he was but of an ignoble and meane parentage; till he made them by a fine way remember the veneration due to that height of glory he was come to. There was among the royall housholdstuffe a golden basen wherein the King his feet were daily washed, as also the feet of them that sate with him at meat: breaking therefore this basen, he turned it into an image, and set it up to be adored publikely: and when he was afterwards informed that the Aegyptians did worship it most religiously, he told them that image was made out of the basen in which they were wont to wash their feet, to vomite, and to make water in; wishing them withall, to esteeme of him accordingly; saying that it was true, he had been one of the common sort, nothing diffe­ring from the sordid multitude, but that he had now very good reason to looke for that dreadfull veneration Kings have in the hearts of all them that are touched with a lively feeling of their power and might: see Herodotus in Euterpe. The Priest of Canopus confuted with a pretie device the great boastings the Chaldeans made of their much honoured [Page 134] God: for when they went braggingly about to trie the strength of other Gods with the force of the all-devouring fire worshipped by them, there met them among the rest a Priest of Canopus, who having taken an earthen water-pot full of holes, filled it with water, the holes being first stop­ped up with waxe; having afterward fitted this deceitfull water-pot with a head and other limmes taken from ano­ther statue, and having coloured all alike, he quickly made an end of their vauntings; for in this conflict of Gods, whereas the Chaldeans did thinke that this statue should be consumed by the fire as others had been, it fell out other­wise; for the waxe melting, let out the water; and so was the Chaldean God most ridiculously put out: see Cedrenus, and Suidas, where he speaketh of Canopus. Annibal, after that the Romanes had vanquished Antiochus, fled to the Gor­tinians in Crete, to consider there which way he might best secure himselfe: but the most wary man perceived instant­ly that he was there in very great danger, by reason of the Cretensians avarice, unlesse he could find out some sudden shift; knowing full well that it was noised abroad how he had a great summe of money about him. He filled therefore a great many pots with lead, laying so much gold on the top as might cover the lead: then did he put these pots in the temple of Diana, the Gortynians being by, making a shew as if he did put them in trust with all he had. After he had thus gulled the Gortynians, he filled the brasen statues he had about him with his money, throwing them carelesly downe in publike roomes of his lodging: the Gortynians in the mean time doe watch the temple with very great care; not so much for feare of others, as of Annibal himselfe, least he should privily convay away something: but Annibal ha­ving deceived the Gortynians, and saved all his wealth by [Page 135] such a craftie subtiltie, got from thence to King Prusias in Pontus: see Corn. Nepos in Hannibal his life. When Alcibia­des meant to take great matters in hand, and saw that many things could not be effected without the helpe of a trustie friend that should be privie to all his plots, he tried his friends out of whom hemeant to make his choice after this manner. Having laid a statue made after the likenesse of a dead man in the darknesse of an obscure corner, he brought in his friends one by one, shewing them, with a great deale of horrour and feare the man whom he pretended to have been murthered by himselfe, craving also silence and help: but when every one drew backe, fearing to meddle with so dangerous a matter, Callias alone readily and faithfully un­dertooke the societie of the danger his friend would put him to; and hence was it that Alcibiades afterwards made most use of Callias, as of a most trustie inward friend: see Polyaenus lib. I. Stratagem. There is good cause also why among the manifold use of Statues the woodden horses Ve­getius speaketh of should be mentioned here: not the fresh­water souldiers onely, sayth he Lib. I. de Re militari, cap. 18., but the stipendiarie also were strictly enjoyned to practise the vaulting art: which custome, although now with some dissimulation, is come downe to this present age. Woodden horses were put under the roofe, when it was winter; in the open field, when it was sommer: and young men were compelled to get upon them, first unarmed, till they were used to it; and afterwards, in their full armour: yea they went about it so carefully, that they did get up and downe in­differently at the right or left side, holding also drawne swords or long speares in their hands: no wonder then that they should doe it in the tumult of a battell so readily, who did practise it in the quietnesse of peace so studiously. The Persians did not one­ly use their horses to the tingling sound of glattering ar­mour, [Page 136] and to the hoarse humming noise of an armed multi­tude; but they threw also at the feet of their gallopping hor­ses the images of dead men stuffed with chaffe, least they should lose the use of their horses, if in the heat of the fight they should start aside, afrighted at those that lie slaine up­on the ground: see Aelianus de Animalib. lib. XVI, cap. 25. The Macedonian King Perseus preparing himselfe against the Romanes, was informed that both Libya and their late victory over Antiochus had furnished them with elephants: least therefore such a huge beast should fright the horses at the first sight, he gave order that some cunning workmen should make woodden images resembling elephants in shape and colour, that likewise a man should get upon this wood­den frame and sound the trumpet thorough his snout, in imitation of their lowd and dreadfull braying: the horses therefore having often seene the sight and heard the noise, were taught by this means to contemne the Elephants. Po­lyaenus lib. IV. Stratag. But among so many severall uses of Statues, the inaugurated Statues may not be forgotten; which being set up by skilfull enchaunters in some unacces­sible chauncell of the temple, or else secretly digged in the ground, were thought to appease the wrath of the Gods, and to protect the Country from hostile invasions: see Pho­tius in Excerptis ex hist. Olympiodori. Such a one seemeth that same Talus to have been, mentioned by Apollonius Rho­dius Lib. IV. Argonant. [...]. 1638., and many other Authors. Asius the Philosopher al­so made an image of Pallas by a certaine observation of A­stronomicall influences, tying the destinies of Troy to the preservation or losse of that Palladium: see Tzetzes in Ly­cophronis Cassandram. But of this, God willing, shall wee speake more at large in our Catalogue of Artificers. If any one in the mean time desire to know something more con­cerning [Page 137] the inaugurated statues, which now adays by them that are curious of such things are called Talisman, let him reade the sixth Chapter of Gafarellus his Curiosities un­heard.

§ 5. What an endlesse labour it would be, to reckon up the severall sorts of statues and Images made both for use and ornament, not to alledge many authors, may bee knowne out of Cassiodorus alone. The Tuscanes are sayd to haue first found out statues in Italy, saith hee, Variarum, lib. VII. 15. and Posteritie having embraced this invention of theirs, hath very neer filled up the city with a number of people equall unto them that were begotten by Nature. As therefore it might seeme a most te­merarie unadvisednesse, if I should undertake to mention all that ancient authors relate of the workes of statuary and picture; so is it more agreeable with our meane wit, and otherwise employed industry, to promise but a little more than we have sayd alreadie: not mentioning the majestical ornaments of Churches, of market places, and publique gal­leries, seeing it is better to say nothing at all of them, than to lessen their deserved admiration, by a dry and homely expression. Insisting therefore onely upon some other ex­amples of the usefulnesse of these arts, it may not seeme a­misse to thinke, that many of the ancients perchance have studied to fill publique and privat places with all kinde of rare pictures and statues, for the same reason for which the Lacedemonians (otherwise a blunt and course people) made much of them. For being a warrelike Nation, and know­ing well-shaped proper bodies to be most fit for war, they were also most desirous to beget handsome children, repre­senting unto their great bellied wives, the images of Apollo and Bacchus, the fairest among the gods; as also the pictures of Castor and Pollux, Nireus, Narcissus, Hiacynthus, young [Page 138] men of perfect beauty. Appianus in his first booke of Hun­ting describeth this custom of theirs: adding withall, That such as bred horse-colts and pigeons, did most commonly use some such like meanes to have their horse-colts and Pi­geons speckled and painted after their own phantasie. The practise of the Patriarch Jacob agreeth very well with this. See Genes. xxx. and B. Hieronymus his Questions upon Gene­sis. The shapes of bodies brought forth, saith Pliny, Lib. VII. Nat. hist. cap. 12. are repu­ted to be sutable to the mindes of the Parents, in which many casuall things beare a great sway; things seene, heard, remem­bred, phantasies also running in the mind at the very instant of conception: a thought likewise running in the mind of either of both the Parents, is conceived either to giue the whole shape to the child, or els to mix it. Whence it is that more differences are in man, than in any other creature whatsoever; seeing the nim­blenesse of his thoughts, the swiftnesse of his minde, and the va­rietie of his wit, do imprint in him images of many and seueral fashions: whereas all other creatures have unmoveable minds, and in their owne kinde alike.

Heliodorus groundeth the whole argument of his Aethi­opicall history upon such an accident, as is to be seen in his fourth and tenth booke. Saint Austen Retractat. Lib. II. cap. 62. likewise relateth out of Soranus, That a certaine deformed King of Cyprus was wont to set before his wife when hee meant to know her, a most faire picture; hoping to effect by this meanes, that she should bring him forth faire children. Galen also in his treatise de Ther. ad Pis. alledgeth such another exam­ple. But seeing this contemplation doth more properly be­long to Hippocrates his schollers, it is time forus to leave it, & to mention other uses that haue bin made of these Arts.

§ 6. Apelles being carried by tempest into Aegypt, du­ring the reign of that Ptolome that could neuer abide him [Page 139] in Alexanders Court, was brought into danger of his life, but for the help of this Art. For comming to supper to the King, deceived by one suborned by some spightfull enemy, who had invited him disguised in the habit of those to whom that office belonged, the King was much insenced against him; and calling for all those officers to know who had done it, Apelles not seeing the man amongst the com­panie, took vp a cole from the hearth, and drew his picture upon the walso lively, that vpon the first draught the king knew the man. Pliny xxxv. 10. Julius Caesars Image ex­pressed in waxe, and hideous to looke on for the three and twenty wide gaping wounds he had received, did mightily stir up the Romans to revenge his death. Appianus Lib. II, de Bello civili. The Emperor Antoninus, to accustome the people by little and little to that effoeminate habit of the Phoenicians, he himselfe did so much like, sent his picture before him to Rome; and therby brought to passe, that the Romans did heartily congratulate him at his comming, it being no new thing to see their Soveraigne in such attyre. Herodian. lib. V. Hist. Some Kings did cause a picture to be drawn after their own fancie, sending it abroad in the world, if by chance any one maid comming somwhat neer the conceived beauty, might be esteemed worthy of such a match. See Claudianus, de Honorii & Mariae nuptiis. Nei­ther did these Arts serue onely in Love-Embassages, but sometimes also most peremptorie Embassages of peace and warre haue beene performed by the meanes of these Arts. Q. Fabius a General of the Romans sent a letter to the Car­thaginians, in which was written, that the people of Rome had sent thē a little white rod used by messengers of peace, and a Pike, to the end they should chuse either of these signes of peace or war, & think that alone to be sent which [Page 140] they should make choice of. The Carthaginians answered, That they would chuse neither of both, seeing it was in the power of those that brought them, to leave which they themselves would; and what was left, the same should bee unto them as chosen. Marcus Varro reporteth, That there was not sent a rod of peace and a Pike, but two small Tyles, with such a rod ingraven in the one, and a pike in the other. See Agellius, noct. Attic. lib. x. cap. 27. Eubata Cyrenaeus to maintaine the faith of Wedlock, disappointed that famous Strumpet Laïs in her lust, by carrying the picture of Laïs along with him to Cyrena in stead of the woman her selfe: wherefore his wife also at his returne erected him a statue. See Aelian lib. x. Var. hist. ca. 2. We do love the images of our Beloved, saith Dionysius the Antiochian Sophist, Epist. I. when wee cannot see them present with us. See also Aeneas the Sophist, Epist. 12. Ovid. lib. 11. de Ponto, Eleg. 8. And Heroïdum, Epi­stolâ xiii. vers. 151. The younger Pliny doth expresse the same; I haue loved the most compleat young man as fervently, saith he, Lib. II. Epist. 7. as now I do require him impatiently. So will it be unto me a most acceptable thing to see sometimes this same image of his, and to looke backe upon it; to stand now and then neere it, and to go by it. For if the images we haue in our pri­vat houses of them that are dead, doe very much asswage our griefe; how much more shall those images bring that to passe, which in a place of great resort do not only shew their shape and countenance, but their honor and glory also? Yea, the first be­ginnings of these Arts seem to haue proceeded out of a de­sire of prolonging the memory of the deceased, or else of them whose absence would be most grievous unto us with­out such a remembrance. See what Fulgentius Lib. I. My­th l. § unde idolum dica­tur. reporteth of the Aegyptian Syrophanes. A Corinthian Maid also, taught by Love, ventured to put her unskilfull hand to the [Page 141] first beginnings of art, drawing lines about the shadow of her Lover that was to go a great journey. Whereupon (as it is the custome of men to prosecute small beginnings with a stedfast study) her father Dibutades, a Potter by his trade, cut out the space comprised within the lines, and filling it with clay, he made a pattern and hardned it in the fire, pro­fering to Greece the first rudiments of picture & Statuary.

§ 7. So was it then a praise-worthy custome observed among the Ancients, That they did shew themselves for­ward to consecrate the memories of such men as had deser­ved well of the world: and because they could not endure that vehement longing they had after the vertues of the deceased Worthies, they did at once seeke to remedy their sorrow, and to stirre up other noble spirits to the love of vertue. See Lactant. cap. 15. de Falsa Religione: Every one thinketh that honor bestowed upon himselfe, saith Symmachus, Lib. IX. Epist. 102. which he findeth deservedly to be conferred upon others. And againe in another place, Lib. I. Epist. 37. When worthy men receive the fruit of their doings, all they that follow their stepeps are likewise filled with hope. The Emperour Tiberius restored ma­ny cities of Asia that were throwne downe in his time by a fearefull earthquake. The Asiatique Cities therefore stu­dying to be thankfull, erected a Colosse unto Tiberius up­on the Roman market, at the backe side of the Temple of Venus; adding likewise the statues of euery one of the Ci­ties repaired. Phlegon cap. 13. de Rebus mirabilibus. The Athenians have erected unto Aesope a most goodly statue, saith Phaedrus, Sub finem libri secundi fabularum. and have set a contemptible slave upon an everlasting Base: that all might understand, how the way of Honour lieth open to every one, and that glory like­wise doth not so much follow the condition of our birth, as the vertues of our life.

[Page 142] Berosus did excell in Astrologie, wherefore the Atheni­ans for his divine prognostications erected him a Statue with a golden tongue, set up in their publique Schools. See Pliny, Nat. hist. lib. vii. cap. 37. Josephus, that famous wri­ter of the Jewish antiquities, beeing brought to Rome a­mong other Captives, offered unto the Emperors Vespasian and Titus, seven bookes he had written about the taking of Jerusalem. Which books being carefully put up in the pub­lique Library, there was moreover a statue erected him for the fame of that Worke of his. See Suidas.

The noble Captain Chabrias was the first that taught the Athenians, how to breake the furious assault of a forward Enemy by holding vp their shields, and with a bent knee levelling their pikes. This invention of his was so much celebrated in all Greece, that Chabrias would haue his sta­tue made in such a posture; and the Athenians erected him such a one publiquely in the market place. So did also cham­pions afterwards, and all other Artificers, when they had obtained the victory, make their statues in this very po­sture. Corn. Nepos in Chabria. The statues of the Embassadors slaine at Fidena, saith Livy, Lib. IV. ab v. c. were set up at Rome in a most frequented place, knowne by the name Rostra. Florus addeth, Because they died for the Republique. The Athenians also erected a Statue to Anthemocritus, who vpon the like occa­sion was pulled in pieces by the Megarians. See Harpocra­tion in Anthemocritus. Velleius Paterculus Lib. I. hist. cap. 11. reporteth, that Alexander the Great requested Lysippus a singular work­man in such things, to make the statues of the horsemen of his troupe that were slaine at Granicum, as like them as could bee, and that he should set his statue among them. See also Arria­nus, lib. 1. de Exped. Alexandri. When King Porsena was come to Janiculum, he was hindred by the vertue of Cocles [Page 143] Horatius to march over the Tyber: for Horatius sustained the whole host of the Hetrurians, whilest others in the meane time did breake down the timber bridge: which be­ing done, he leapt with his full armour into the Tyber, swim­ming over to his other countrymen safe, in spite of a world of arrowes shot vpon him; attempting a thing of greater fame with posteritie, than credit, saith Livy, Lib. II. ab v. c. and the city thankefully acknowledged such a vertue, erecting him a statue in a place of great resort, knowne by the name Comitium.

Vertue therefore being thus honoured in men, women also were stirred up to great attempts for the publique glo­ry of the Romane state: So when Cloelia was giuen in ho­stage to Porsenna, with many other noble Virgins, shee made her selfe Captaine of the rest, and hauing deceived their Keepers, got on horsebacke and swam over the river Tyber. The Romanes rewarded so new a vertue in a woman, with a new kinde of honour, saith Livy in the same place, for in memory of her, in the most eminent part of Via sacra they set up a statue of a maid on horsebacke. We finde also, that unto Caja or Suffetia, a Vestal Virgin, a statue was decreed, to be set up in the place she her selfe should make choice of: which addition was no lesse honourable, than that it was decreed unto a woman. Her desert was, That she had free­ly given unto the people that ground which was afterward called Campus Tiberinus. See Pliny, lib. xxxiv. Nat hist. ca. 6. The Soothsayer Accius Navius his statue, who cut a whet­stone with a Raisor in the presence of Tarquinius, to shew unto the King an effect of his profession, was placed on the left side of the Counsel-house, upon the steps where the thing was done: the whetstone also was to be seene in the same place, to be a monument unto posteritie, of that mira­cle, saith Livy, lib. 1. ab v. c. So were there also very often [Page 144] statues erected to preserve the memorie of some miracu­ous accidents. Such was the statue of Arion; of the which see Agellius, lib. xvi. Noct. Attic. cap. ultimo. And the An­thologie of Greeke Epigrams, lib. iv. cap. 14. where you may finde also the statue of the Musician Eunomus mentioned. The Aspendian Harpe-players statue is mentioned by Tul­ly, lib. iv. in Verrem, where see what Asconius Pedianus saith concerning that matter. Antonius the Triumvir mixed iron amongst the coyne called at Rome Denarius: it was therefore made an art to essay that kind of mony; and this law of trying the coyne was so well liked by the people, that street by street they did erect whole statues unto Gra­tidianus. See Pliny, lib. xxxiii. Nat. hist. cap. 9. Actions proceeding out of the sudden commotion of a forward minde, have been sometimes also esteemed worthy of the honour of a statue: for when the message that Babylon had revolted, was brought unto Semiramis, whilest shee was dressing her head, she did instantly runne to recover the ci­ty, one side of her haire hanging as yet downe: neither would she suffer her haire to be medled withall, as long as the city did hold out against her. And there was upon this occasion a statue erected her at Babylon, in the same habit she did hastily run in to revenge her selfe of the Rebels. See Valerius Maximus, lib. ix. cap. 3. ex ext. 6.

Bupalus and Anthermus, to sport themselves and the spe­ctators, made the statue of Hipponactes the Poët, who was halfe a Dwarfe, and of an hard favoured countenance. But when they had most contumeliously published this worke of theirs in great companies of scoffing and busie mockers; Hipponactes, as some doe report, fell upon them with such bitter invectives of Iambicke verses, that they made rather choice of an halter, than to endure his revenge any longer. [Page 145] Suidas in Hipponax. Acron. in vi Epod. See also Pliny, xxxvi. 5.

The Queene Artemisia having conquered Rhodes, ere­cted a monument of her victorie in the city, making two brasen statues, whereof the one represented the city, the other represented her self; branding the city with reproch­full markes. Religion afterwards hindering the Rhodians to deface this monument, because dedicated tropaees might not be removed, they built a house about it, covering it with a Grecian roofe, to hide it from the view of all men; commanding the place to be called Abaton, that is, an unac­cessible place. Vitruvius lib. II. architect. cap. 8. There have been very often statues erected unto those that by the fa­vour of Kings and Emperours were lifted vp above other men. So doth Suetonius In Tiberio, cap. 65. report, that Sejanus his golden images were set up every where. And Juvenal teacheth us againe, by the example of the same Sejanus, That there was most commonly the same earnestnesse used in pulling them downe, that had been used in erecting them, when the Em­peror did but begin to frown a little upon the much admi­red and flattered Favourit. See Juvenal, Satyr. x. vers. 56. Claudius the Emperour erected a statue unto Simon Magus, adding this title, SIMONI DEO SANCTO. See Tertul­lian his Apolog. advers. Gentes, cap. 13. The importunate curiositie of some men at Rome brought to passe, that for­mer ages have seen the statues of Annibal within the wals of the city. See Pliny, lib. xxxiv. Nat. hist. cap. 6. King Ptolo­me in memory of an incestuous affection, commanded Di­nochares to hang up his sister Arsinoë in the ayre: he there­fore placed a Loadstone in the Vault of the Pharian Tem­ple, which drew up the miserable woman by her iron haire. See Ausonius in Mosella. Pliny, lib. xxxiv. Nat. hist. cap. 14. [Page 146] Suidas in Magnetis. Cedrenus, ad annum undecimum Theodo­sii Imp. Although it appeareth now in all these alledged examples, That statues were erected upon severall occasi­ons, yet was this alwayes the chiefest motive, That gene­rous spirits seeing Vertue so much honoured, should like­wise be provoked unto vertuous actions. There is good rea­son, why the memory of great vertues should be reputed a sacred thing; seeing a great many doe delight more in vertuous cour­ses, if the favourable estimation of good men do not perish with them, sayth Seneca, lib. iv. de Benef. cap. 30. The rewards of good and bad men make men good or bad. Few haue so much goodnesse by nature, as not to chuse or shunne honest or dishonest things, as they see other men speedwell or ill by them. The rest, when they see that the reward of labor, vigilancy, and frugality is bestowed upon lazinesse, drowsinesse, and luxurie, study also to obtaine the same rewards by the same meanes others have ob­tained them: they do therefore desire to be and to seeme such as those were; and whilest they doe so much desire to bee like them; they are quickely made like them, saith Pliny in his Panegyrick Oration. Because by the ornaments bestowed vpon good men, we are stirred vp to imitate them, and an emulating vertue is led by the honours conferred upon others. Hence it was, that in the rudest times of antiquitie, those that excelled in vertue, be­ing expressed by the hand of Art, were transmitted to the memo­rie of posteritie. And it were to be wished, that the base remis­nesse of flatterers had not afterwards any thing derogated from that glory; although those honours are not to be esteemed of e­quall value, that are obtained by uneqall meanes. Symmachus lib. x. Epist. 25.

Images of men were seldome expressed, saith Pliny, Lib. xxxiv. Nat. hist. cap. 4. but of such onely as for some noble act had deserved perpetuitie. First, for victory in one or other of the sacred Games, but most of all [Page 147] of the Olympian games, where it was the custom to consecrate the statues of all them that had overcome: and if any had over­come thrice in the said Games, their similitude was expressed out of their very limmes; which kinde of statues were called Iconicae statuae. This custome hath afterwards beene received in the whole world by a most curteous ambition; for statues have now begun to bee an ornament of the market places in all municipall townes: so is it also an ordinary thing to prorogate the memory of men, and to write upon the bases such titles of honours, that all Ages might reade them there, lest they should be read only upon sepulchres. Privat houses likewise and their halls afterwards became like market places: the respect Clients bore their patrons, first instituted to worship them after this maner. The publique libraries were also furnished with the golden, silver, and brasse Images of those whose immortall soules did speake in these places. This was at Rome the in­vention of Asinius Pollio, saith Pliny, Lib. xxxv, Nat. hist. cap. 2. who when he did dedi­cate a Library, made a commonwealth of wits. Yet is it not easie for me to say, whether the Kings of Alexandria and Per­gamus, who erected libraries for strife, did it before him or not. See the younger Pliny, lib. IV. cap. 28. And although the Images of the deceased were onely dedicated in publique Libraries, yet hath the veneration of learning prevailed so much, that the image of M. Varro alone before his death, should find a place in the Library published by Asinius Pol­lio. See Pliny, lib. vii. Nat. hist. cap. 30. As for private Li­braries, Martial In ipso stat. initio Libri noni. teacheth us, That in them the Images of such Writers as were as yet surviving, might bee admitted. Our forefathers had images in their halls, that deserved to bee looked upon, sayth Pliny, Lib. xxxv. Nat. hist. cap. 2. not the works of forrein Artificers, notable for the brasse or the marble. Faces expressed in waxe were orderly placed in every hollownesse fitted for such use, that [Page 148] there might not want Images to accompany the funerals of eve­ry family; and alwayes when any one was dead, the whole people of that family, as many as ever had beene famous, were present there. The degrees also of Kindred set forth in garlands, did reach unto the painted Images: and the roomes neer the Court­yard, where their records and evidences were kept, did abound with books and monuments of noble deeds performed when they were in authoritie. Without doores about the haunse or frontier there did appeare other Images of great spirits, the spoyles taken from their enemies being fastned there, that the buyer might not breake them off. The houses themselves did triumph, though their masters were changed: so was this also a great pricking of their mindes, the houses daily upbraiding them, that an un­warlike master did step into another mans triumph. We must needs bring in here the words of Sallustius; I have often heard, saith hee, De Bello Jugurth. that Q. Maxumus, P. Scipio, and other great men of our city, were wont to say, That they felt their mindes mightily inflamed to vertue, when they did but looke upon the Images of their Ancestors: not that there was any such force in that wax and figure, but that the memory of their fa­mous acts did kindle this flame in the brests of brave men, which could not be quenched, untill by a vertuous course they had attained to their fame and glory. See also Valer. Maximus lib. v. cap. 8. Exemplo 3.

Julius Caesar, as it is reported by Dio Cassius, Lib. xxxvii seeing a statue of the Great Alexander in Hercules his Temple at Gades, fetched many a deepe sigh, pittifully bemoaning his owne condition, That he had not yet by any noble act con­secrated his memory unto eternitie.

As they had now the images of their noble ancestors in their halls, so did they very often carry them about in their rings. Lentulus a most desperate companion of Cateline, [Page 149] had his grandfathers image ingraven in the ring hee did weare, and sealed his Letters with it. I have shewed the Let­ters unto Lentulus, saith Tully, Orat. 3. in L. Catilinam asking him whether hee knew the seale: which being confessed by him, It is truly, sayd I, a seale very well knowne, being the image of your most famous grandfather, who loved his countrey and countreymen dearely; and this speechlesse image might very wel haue recalled you from such wicked attempts. Lest therefore any such reproches should light upon any noble branch of an ancient stocke, all such as were allyed to great houses, did by a just severity refuse to acknowledge such noble monsters as began to dar­ken the brightnesse of their ancestors. The sonne of Scipio Africanus was set upon by the whole kinred, when shame­fully degenerating, he did nothing but disgrace the images of his glorious father and famous Uncle. His kinsfolks pul­led the ring from his hand, saith Valerius Maximus, Lib. iii. c. 5. Exemplo 1. in which Scipio Africanus his head was ingraven.

§ 8. Picture in my opinion was most of all brought in re­quest at Rome, by M. Valerius Maximus Messala, who being then Generall, placed at a side of Curia Hostilia the picture of that battell wherein he overcame the Carthaginians and Hie­ron in Sicily, the foure hundred foure score and tenth yeere of the founding of the city. Pliny xxxv. 4. The glory of the Scene made the Art more famous at Rome. For the Scene of Claudius Pulcher his Playes was very much wondered at for the excellencie of picture; seeing Crowes deceived by the image, came flying to the similitude of the painted Tiles. Pliny, Lib. xxxv. cap. 4.

There is in the mention of Picture a pretie tale divulged of Lepidus, who in the time of his Triumvirat being lodged by the Magistrates of a certaine towne in a thicke woodded place, he expostulated the next day with them after a threatning man­ner, [Page 150] because his sleepe had been broke by the singing of birds: but they having hung round about the place a dragon painted upon a long role of parchment, made the birds hold their peace: and so was it afterwards knowne that this was the way to re­straine them. Plin. xxxv, 11. The two following examples, although they doe not directly appertaine to this place, where we doe reckon up the manifold use of Picture, yet may we rehearse them here by the way, since by them we are taught that unreasonable creatures are sometimes as well mooved by their owne image represented in the water or in a looking-glasse, as these birds were frighted by the likenesse of a painted dragon. A horse knowing what a sin­gular ornament his mane is unto him, useth to be proud of it: those therefore that goe about to have their mares cove­red by he-asses, when they finde them after a fierce manner scorne such an unequall match, use to clip their manes and so to drive them to the water: whereupon is it an usuall thing that the mare seeing the pride of her necke gone, groweth more tractable and admitteth the asse: see Aelian. lib. XII, de Animalib. cap. 10. as also Jul. Pollux, onomast. lib. I, cap. 11. A parret is by cozenage taught to imitate: for they that will teach her, doe hide themselves behinde a great looking-glasse, speaking there what they would have her learne: the parret therefore weening to see another pra­ting parret in the glasse, maketh haste to speak the language of a bird of her owne feathers: see Photius in Excerptis ex lib. V. Theodori episcopi Tarsi contra Fatum. What we have as yet spoken concerning the manifold use of these Arts of imitation, might very well suffice, if we had not met in di­verse good Authors with many more passages of this na­ture. Wherefore I cannot forbeare, but I must needs adde some examples; being fully perswaded, that as all of them [Page 151] doe not want the delight of varietie, so will some of them affoord the profit of instruction.

§ 9. Acu pingere, to paint with a needle was the invention of the Phrygians, and for that reason were the embroderers called Phrygians, sayth Plinie lib. viij, nat. hist. lib. viii, ca. 48. Although Lucanus Lib. X. vers. 142. seemeth to attribute this same glorie unto the Aegyptians also. But of this, God willing, elswhere.

Textilis pictura, tapestry-worke is mentioned by name in the beginning of Tullie his fourth booke against Verres: so doth Val. Maximus Lib. IX, cap. 1. ex. ext. 4. relate that the armie of Antiochus King of Syria set up pavilions adorned with woven images. Lucretius at length, burning fevers shall leave you never a whit sooner, sayth he Lib. II, vers. 34., if you tosse in woven imagerie and rich scar­let, then if you lie under meane and ordinarie coverings.

Among many severall sorts of this kind of workmanship there have been anciently renowned Attalicae vestes, Baby­lonica texta, Chlamydes militares, Diademata regū Aegyptio­rum, Judaïca vela, Peplum Palladis, Toga picta.

Attalicae vestes, Attalian cloaths got their name of Atta­lus, a most wealthy King of Pergamus, who first of all made gold to be woven in cloaths, sayth Plinie lib. viii, nat. hist. cap. 48. When Silius Sub finē lib. XIV. de bel­lo Punico. therefore speaketh of Attalian hangings wrought with a needle, wee must understand no­thing else by the name of Attalian hangings, but rich and sumptuous hangings; seeing the ancient Authors every where doe call magnificent houshold-stuffe by the name of Attalian houshold-stuffe, because the sayd King was excee­ding stately and sumptuous in all manner of things.

Babylonica texta, Babylonian weavings have their name from Babylon; seeing it hath been the practice of this Citie chiefly to weave divers colours in the painted hangings, sayth Plinie lib. viii, nat. hist. cap. 48.

[Page 152] Chlamydes militares, the painted cassockes of souldiers and the riding coates of horsemen were very much used a­mong the Achaeans by Philopoemen his advice, who meant to bring his Country-men from the love of frivolous elegan­cies to a more necessary and honest liking of brave armour; perswading himselfe that their magnanimitie and courage would be mightily enflamed by the very sight of such orna­ments: even as Homer bringeth in Achilles longing, when new and costly armour was brought before his eyes, that he might trie his valour in them: see Plutarch in the life of Philopoemen.

Diademata regum Aegyptiorum, the diademes of the Ae­gyptian Kings were round about beset with the figures of aspes, wrought in several colours; the invincible force of a provoked soveraigne being insinuated by the deadly bite of an aspe: for it was never knowne that any one escaped death, after he had been stung by that kinde of serpent: see Aelian. lib. VI. de Animalib. cap. 38.

Judaïca vela, Jewish vailes were most commonly notable for all such kinde of monsters as men conceive when they doe imagine the wonders of strange Indian countries: see Claudianus lib. I. in Eutropium, vers. 355.

Peplum Palladis, the flag of Pallas adorned with the over­throw of the fool-hardy giants that fought against heaven, was carried about by the Athenians every fifth yeere in the pageants of their Panathenaike solemnitie: see Suidas, as also Virgil in Ciris.

Toga palmata was a gowne so called of the branches of palme-trees that were wrought in it: the gowne deserved by them, sayth Isidorus Hispal. Originum lib. xix. that had over­come their enemies, was called Toga palmata: it was called also Toga picta, a painted gowne, for the victories and palme­trees

[Page 153] that were woven in it. And as it hath been shewed a­bove that the Toscanes made the first statues in Italie, so must we likewise observe here that this kinde of ornament hath also beene derived from the said Toscanes. Our ance­stours, sayth Sallustius De bello Catilin., have taken the greater part of the en­signes of Magistrates from the Toscanes. Macrobius doth con­firme the same, Tullus Hostilius, the sonne of Hostus, and third King of the Romanes, sayth he Lib. II. Sa­turnal. c. 6., did first of all institute at Rome the use of the Chariot of state, called Curulis sella; the Sergeants, called Lictores; the Gownes, called Toga picta, and Toga praetexta; which were all ornaments used by the E­trurian Magistrates: see also Silius Italicus lib. VIII. de bel­lo Punico.

§ 10. The Citie gates and the doores of private houses were in ancient times notable for the picture of Minerva that was painted upon them; so was Mars also painted at the first entrance of the suburbs: to insinuate, that within the Citie walls, as also within the walls of private houses all things must be performed by the counsell of Minerva; but that the out-streets lying out of the towne, are to be pro­tected by Mars. Schol. vet. in Aeschylum. Tzetzes in Lyco­phronis Cassandram. Some for all that did not so much pour­tray Minerva upon the doores of their houses, as any other God or man they would themselves. We doe see this in Au­sonius his Epigrammes, where Epigr. 25. he doth most pleasantly mock an obscure fellow, which for his great wealth would seeme to be some bodie; but having no pedegree to shew for himselfe, he did vilifie the noble names of most flourish­ing times, and embrace Mars, Romulus, and Remus, calling them the first parents, painting them upon his doores, and setting them up in his hall, as if his nobilitie had been deri­ved from these founders of the Citie. A great dogge tyed [Page 154] in a chaine was painted upon the wall neere the Porters lodge; and above him there was written, CAVE. CAVE. CANEM. Arbiter Satyrico.

On many little shed-shops the battell betweene weesills and mice was most commonly pourtrayed. Phaedrus Fabulâ LXIV. And as by the means of this picture they did draw and entertaine their customers, so on the contrary, did they put boyes, and other idle fellowes farre from their stalls, by painting two snakes upon the outside of them; forbidding every one to make water in the corners of their stalls, by shewing unto them the religion of the place. There is no place without his peculiar Genius, sayth Servius Ad versum 85. libri V Aeneid., and this same Genius is for the most part expressed by the image of a snake. See also Cornutus upon the 113 verse of Persius his first Satyre, where he doth speake of this custome used by the shop-keepers. To all the Citie gates in the meane time, to private houses, baths, stables also, and to be short, to e­very place and corner of the Citie there did belong many a thousand Geniusses, as Aurel. Prudentius reporteth lib. II. contra Symmachum. Epona also and some such like faces were painted neere the rank-sented mangers: see Juvenal. Saty­râ VIII. Theudelinda Queene of the Longobards built her pallace in Modiciâ, and caused therein something to be pain­ted of the deeds of the Longobards: it is clearely perceived in this picture how the Longobards in those times did cut the haire of their heads, what manner of cloaths and habit they went in: for shaving themselves, they did make their necke bare to the hinder part of the head; whereas their other haire did hang downe as low as their mouth, being on both sides divided by the parting of the forehead: they had loose and for the most part linnen garments, such as the Anglo-Saxons doe weare, adorned with broad lace woven of di­verse [Page 155] colours: they had shoes open almost to the upperpart of their great toes, stretched with latchets from the one side to the other: they afterwards begun to use hose, drawing over them some thicker kind of stock-hose, when they were to ride; but in this have they followed the custome of the Romanes: see Paulus Diaconus de gestis Longobardorum, lib. IV, cap. 23.

The monuments of Martyrs were adorned with paint­ings, setting forth all the circumstances of the butcherlike crueltie used against the Saints of God: see Prudentius in the passion of Cassianus the Schoolemaster, who was by his own school-boyes, the tyrant forcing them thereunto, prickt to death with the sharpe points of their writing bodkins: see the same Prud. also in the passion of Hippolytus: and Paulus Diaconus lib. IV. de gestis Longobard. cap. 17.

Such as had escaped a dangerous sicknesse, were wont to have Aesculapius painted in the rooms they did most fre­quent; professing their thankfulnesse by a continuall wor­shipping of so favourable a God: see Libanius Declam. xxxix.

The pictures of them that had suffered ship-wracke, or were egregiously injured by other men, have been mentio­ned alreadie, lib. I, cap. IV, § 4.

The ships-castle behinde was most commonly adorned with the picture of one or other God, unto whose protecti­on and patronage the whole ship was committed; and this Patron of the ship was for the most part set forth in gold and glorious colours: see Virgil. lib. X. Aeneid. and Valer. Flaccus lib. VIII, vers. 292.

When Painters did imitate in their pictures such things as those that had an entercourse of mutuall hospitality were wont to send one to another, they did call such pictures [Page 156] Xenia, sayth Vitruvius, lib. VI. Architect. cap. 10. Philostra­tus at the end of his first booke of Images describeth such a picture.

Maeandrum is a kinde of painting named after the simili­tude of the manifold turnings and windings made by the river Maeander: see Pompeius Festus.

When Muraena and Varro were Aediles, they cut at Lace­daemon out of brick walls a certain kind of plaistering work for the excellency of painting, and brought it to Rome in woodden frames, to adorn the place called Comitium with­all: see Plinie lib. xxxv. nat. hist. cap. 14. and Vitruvius lib. II. Archit. cap. 8. M. Agrippa set up in the hottest part of the Baths little pictures, fitting them in the marble. Plin. lib. xxxv. nat. hist. cap. 4.

Pavements of checkerwork had their originall in Greece by an art much laboured after the way of picture, till they have been put out by another kinde of workmanship called Lithostrota, that is, strowed over with stones: and this see­meth to have been that worke we call Musaïke-worke. So­sus was most famous in this kinde of worke, sayth Plinie Lib. xxxvi, Nat. hist. cap. 25., who paved at Pergamus the house they did call Asaroton oecon, that is, the unswept house: because he had counterfeited out of little and diversly coloured stones the scraps of broken meat that use to be swept away, even as if carelesly they had been left upon the ground: the drinking pigeon is there most admirable, darke­ning the water with the shadow of her head, whilest another snat­cheth away the meat: you may see other pigeons play upon the brimme of the pots mouth: others sit a sunning, and doe nothing but claw and pick their own feathers. The cipresse tree also is drawne into paintings in historicall worke, overshadowing huntings, navies, and other images of things with a thinne, short, and greene leafe. Plin. lib. xvi. nat. hist. cap. 33.

[Page 157] Among the principall souldiers they were called imagina­rii or imaginiferi, which carried the images of the Empe­rours: see Vegetius lib. II. de Re militari, cap. 7.

Aegypt dyeth silver also, that it may behold its Anub is up­on drinking-vessels; and doth not grave silver, but paint it. That silver afterwards is applied to the making of trium­phall statues; and, which is a wonder, that dimme bright­nesse is highly esteemed: see Plinie lib. XXXIII. nat. hist. cap. 9.

Glasse is most proper for picture, sayth Plinie, lib. xxxvi, cap. 26.

Tortoise shells, though they were never so full of spots, yet did they sometimes paint them. Seneca de Benef. lib. vii, cap. 9.

Buskins painted, are mentioned by Ovid. Amorum lib. ii. Eleg. 18. as also Amorum, lib. iii. Eleg. 1.

Calendars painted, Ovid. circa initium libri primi Fasto­rum.

Belts painted, Apuleius lib. X. Metamorph.

Painted bridles, Ovid. IV. Metam.

Painted quivers, Ovid II. Metam. & passim alibi.

Painted tents, Claudianus lib. I. de Stiliconis laudib. vers. 157.

Painted shields were at the first proper onely to valiant men: in the times of our ancestors, sayth Servius In lib. vii. Aeneid., the shields of valiant men were painted; the shields of fresh-water souldi­ers on the contrary and of unmanly cowards, were unpainted. But it seemeth that all had afterwards promiscuously some kinde of painting: least the souldiers should at any time in the tumult of a battell wander from their fellow-souldiers, sayth Vegetius Lib. II. de Re milit. cap. 18., severall cohorts had severall marks painted on their shields, called digmata; and this custome doth as yet hold: the [Page 158] name of the souldier was likewise written on the inside of every one his shield, as also to what cohort and centurie the owner did belong. As for the primitive times under the first Christian Emperours, Prudentius teacheth us, that shields were then marked otherwise; Christ being woven in glistering gold, sayth he Lib. I. con­tra Symma­chum., did adorne the purple Church-flagges, Christ was drawne for an ensigne upon the shields, and a crosse added to the highest crests, did shine after the manner of flaming fire. Marke here by the way, that as the crests of their head-pieces were a­dorned with the crosse, so sayth Saint Hierome Lib. II. E­pist. famil. 15. that the picture of the crosse did adde a great deale of grace to the purple robes of Kings, and to the brightest gemmes of their diademes.

Statues were sometimes also painted over: not after that manner Pline speaketh of, when he sayth Lib. xxxiii, Nat. hist. cap. 7. that they were painted with vermilion; but they were now and then pain­ted with all such colours as are used about pictures: so doth Pausanlas Lib. IX. witnesse, that there was at Creusis an image of Bacchus made of plaister-stuffe, and all over adorned with picture. The Aegyptians also in their banquets use to carry about a dead bodie made of wood, but so well wrought and painted over, that it can hardly be discerned from a true dead bodie: see Herodotus lib. II. hist. The same Author mentioneth such another statue in the same booke, where he speaketh of a wonderfull custome of burying the dead, anciently used among the Aegyptians: and in his third book he doth relate the like of the Aethiopians. Although Statues might sometimes be painted over after the manner of Pi­ctures, yet were unpainted Statues most in use; because they were more fit to endure the open aire, and the neat­nesse of workmanship could be a great deale better percei­ved in bare Statues then in the painted ones, seeing the true [Page 159] stroke of Art was blotted out or at least dulled in them by the deceitfulnesse of gallant colours. Wherefore I now proceed to the use of such kinde of Statues, and all sorts of workmanship appertaining unto them.

§ 11. I know very well how great a matter I undertake, and that it is not very easie to set downe in a few leaves the infinite varietie of the ancient Statues, together with the manifold use of them, I shall therfore contract my discourse, not describing every one of these things accuratly, but con­tenting my selfe to mention some of them onely.

Aegis, was the brest-plate of Pallas, made by the Cyclopes: see Virgil lib. viii. Aeneid: so sayth Servius upon that place, Aegis is properly a brest-plate of brasse, having the head of Gor­go in the midst: and when this cuirase or brest-plate is upon the brest of a God, it is then called Aegis; when it is upon the brest of a man, as we see in the ancient statues of Emperours, it goeth by the name of Lorica. Minerva is conceived to have that head upon her brest, because that is the seat of her wisedome, by which shee confoundeth her adversaries, making them sottish and no lesse senselesse then any cold stone.

Agoraius Hermes, was a brasen statue of Mercurie, erected upon the Market-place, neer the porch commonly knowne by the name Poecile; this statue was round about written with letters: see Lucian in Jove tragoedo: see also Pausanias and Aristophanes.

Agyieus or Agylleus, was the name of that country-Apollo whose statues were erected in villages. Comment. vet. in Ho­rat. lib. IV. Carm. Ode 6. Macrob lib. I. Saturnal. cap. 9. Ste­phanus de Urbibus. Hesychius. Harpocration. Suidas.

Antefixa, were artificiall things made of clay and faste­ned under the eaves of houses: see Festus Pompeius in Ante­fixa, with Jos. Scaliger his observations upon that place.

[Page 160] Antelii dii were the Gods set up abroad without the doores. Hesychius, Aries, testudo, musculus, and other en­gines of warre made and named after the similitude of seve­rall beasts, are every where mentioned and described in ancient Authors.

Bascania were called the ridiculous figures smiths used to hang before their furnaces, to divert envie: see Pollux lib. VII, onomast. cap. 24. So doth Eustathius Ad versum 455. Odyss. P. also teach us that there were in old times neere all chimneys almost some earthen Vulcans set up, seeing that God was the president of these Arts wrought by fire.

Bulla aurea, was a childish ornament none might weare but such as were ingenui, that is, such as were free-borne. As for the libertini, or such as came from a race that had sometimes been bond-men, scortea bulla, such an ornament of leather was their weare Vide Asconi­um Pedianum in orat. III. contra Ver­rem.. It seemeth moreover to have been a priviledge of the ingenuous or free borne lads one­ly, that they had in this ornament the figure of a heart hang­ing upon their brest. Some doe beleeve, sayth Macrobius Lib. I. Sa­turnal. cap. 6., that it hath been appointed unto the ingenuous children to hang the figure of a heart in the golden ornament that hung upon their brest, that looking upon these ornaments they should think them­selves then onely to be men, when they did excell in things ari­sing out of a wise and understanding heart: they doe beleeve also that there hath been given them a gowne garded about with purple silke, that by this ornament of a purple stitch they should be put in minde how well a modest bashfulnesse doth become them.

Caduceus. Servius his words are worth nothing; The rods of ambassadors or heralds were not without cause tyed about with two serpents, sayth he Ad versum 138. Octavi Aeneid., seeing they are sent to dispose two hostile armies to a mutuall reconciliation, by making them for­get [Page 161] the ranckour of their inveterate malice and to become one; even as two venemous serpents, notwithstanding the deadly poi­son which is in them, couple themselves most lovingly together. Some interpret it otherwise; the ambassadors rod, sayth an­other Scholiastes in lib. I. Thucydidis., is a straight stick with two snakes winding themselves from two contrary sides one about another, and holding their heads opposite one against another: the messengers of peace use to carry such a rod; and it is held unlawfull to hurt them whe­ther soever they goe: the straight sticke, signifieth the force of an ingenuously free speech: the image of the snakes at either side, signifieth the contrary parties: for so doth an upright and reso­lute speech goe thorough both the armies: see also Polybius lib. III, hist. and Suidas. Fulgentius giveth us a peculiar reason why such a rod was most commonly attributed unto Mercu­rie: a rod tyed about with serpents, sayth he Lib. I. My­thol., is attributed unto Mercurie; because he giveth the Merchants sometimes an extraordinarie huge power, which is signified by the scepter; sometimes a sore hurt, which is insinuated by the serpents.

Canes aurei atque argentei, Alcinous his palace had at both sides of the entance golden and silver dogges, that seemed to keepe the watch there: see Homer Odyss. H, vers. 91.

Charila, a childish image mentioned by Plutarch in Quae­stionibus Grecis, § 12.

Cicadae aureae, the Athenians did anciently weare golden grasse-hoppers in the curled lockes of their haire, sayth Thu­eidides lib. I. hist. and the old Scholiast observeth there, that they did so, because the grasse-hopper is a musicall creature; or else, because they would seeme to be Autochtones, boa­sting themselves not to be brought into that countrie from any other place, but that the place of their abode was also the place of their breeding, even as grasse-hoppers come of the earth. The Ionians also, as being but a colonie of the [Page 162] Athenians, kept this custome a good while: see Thucid. in the sayd place. The inhabitants of Samos did the like: see Asius his verses alledged by Athenaeus lib. xii. Deipnosoph.

Citeria; this was the name of a fine and pratling image carried about in the pompe of great solemnities, to make folkes laugh: see Festus Pompeius.

Cubicula salutatoria; the chambers where they did waite, which after the old Romane fashion would salute great no­ble-men in the morning, were filled with all manner of ima­ges: see Plinie lib. xv. nat. hist. cap. 11. Suetonius In Augusto, cap. 7. seemeth to call these images Cubiculares imagines: see Casaubonus his observations upon these words.

Currus-Dariiregis; King Darius his chariot was adorned on both sides with images wrought of silver and gold: the yoke, as it was distinguished with precious stones, so did it support two golden images a cubite high, whereof the one offered to fight with the other: there was also between these an Eagle, that did stretch forth her wings, consecra­ted: see Q. Curtius lib. iii, cap. 3.

Delphines; some artificiall drinking-vessels made after the manner of a dolphin, were called delphines: and so sayth Plinie Lib. xxxiii. cap. 11. that C. Gracchus had delphines that cost him five thousand sestertios a pound. Vitruvius Lib. X, Ar­chitect. c. 12 doth mention brasen dolphines among the parcels that make up water­workes. Ships of warre carried also engins of iron, made af­ter the similitude of dolphins: see Thucydides lib. vii. hist. and his Scholiast.

Dracones militares; Militarie banners made after the like­nesse of dragons, are mentioned by S. Austin; the standards and militarie dragons, sayth he Lib. II, de doctr. Christ. cap. 2., insinuate unto us the Gene­ralls will by the means of our eyes. See also Nazianzene orat. 3. As for the ensignes used in warre, severall Nations had se­verall [Page 163] sorts of them; yea one and the same Nation did often alter banners: the Boeotians made the image of Sphinx their standard, as it is reported by Lactant. upon Stat. Papinius Ad versum 252 libri septimi The­baidos.. The Indian troupes of horsemen carry upon long speares golden and silver heads of gaping dragons, with a thinne silke streamer doubled and cut in length after the shape of a dragons body; so that the winde entring at the mouth, filleth the silke and maketh it stirre, and winde, and hisse as living and raging dragons use to doe: see Suidas, where he speaketh of the Indians.

So doth the same Suidas also attribute such ensignes unto the Scythians. The ancient Romanes have had severall en­signes at severall times; as namely the image of a hogge, the image of Minotaurus, of an eagle, of dragons: of the hogge, see Festus Pompeius in Porci effigies: and Plinie lib. x. nat. hist. cap. 4. The Minotaurus is mentioned by Vegetius, it hath e­ver been esteemed a most safe thing in warre, sayth he Lib. III. de Re milit. cap. 6., that none should know what is to be done: and therefore have the an­cients used the image of Minotaurus for an ensigne of their le­gions; to signifie, that the counsell of a Generall must be kept secret, even as this Minotaurus was privily shut up in the most inward and reti ed parts of the labyrinth: see also Festus Pom­peius in Minotaurus. Of the eagles, see Dio Cassius lib. X L. of the dragons, see Ammianus Marcellinus lib. XVI. hist. where he doth describe the triumphant pompe of Constan­tius the Emperour entring into the Citie: see also Claudia­nus lib. II. in Rufinum, vers. 365. and in his Panegyrike de III. Consulatu Honorii, vers. 138.

Epitrapezii dii: great feasts and banquets were in olde time solemnized by placing the image of one or other God upon the table; not onely to put their guests in minde, that the religion of the boord, by reason of this same Epitrape­zian [Page 164] God, was to be respected and reverenced; but also, that all should as well feed their minde and eyes with this most pleasing spectacle, as their body with exquisit dain­ties, avoiding importunate and troublesome talke by draw­ing some good discourses from thence to-season the meat withall. Arnobius pointeth at this same custome, when he sayth Lib. II. ad­versus gen­tes., you doe consecrate your tables, by setting salt-sellers and images of Gods upon the boord. Wee have also an excel­lent example of this old custome in Statius Papinius, where he doth relate how he was feasted by the most noble Vin­dex, and seeing all his house filled with rare monuments of antiquitie, was taken with nothing so much as with a little Hercules standing upon the table. Among so many things, sayth Statius Lib. IV. Sylv., Hercules, the Genius and protector of the pure table, possessed my heart with a great deale of love, and hath not been able to satisfie mine eyes by looking never so much upon him: such dignitie is there in the worke, and such a majestie is there included in his limmes: he is a God, a very God; and he indulged unto you, O Lysippe, to conceive him great, though he be but little in shew: the whole measure of this wonderfull i­mage doth not exceed a foot, and yet within so little a space, if you doe view it well, there is so great a deceitfulnesse of the forme, that you shall be disposed to cry out, The waster of the Ne­maean forrest was pressed to death by this brest; these armes did carry the deadly club, and brake the oares of Argo. What a strange power was there in this hand, and with how great an ex­perience was the care of that learned Artificer accompanied, to make at once an image fit for the table, and to conceive huge Colosses in his minde? Read the words of Statius himselfe, and he will tell you that Alexander the great, Hannibal, and Sylla, three great Captaines, made so much of this Hercules, that they carried him every where along as an indivisible [Page 165] companion, both in the hazard of battells, and in the secu­ritie of feasting: see Martial also lib. IX, Epigr. 44. where he confirmeth the same.

Eumnostos. This was the name of a little and sleight sta­tue erected in the mills, to see how the millers went to work. See Hesychius.

Galeae Bellatorum. The helmets of great Warriours had most commonly heads of gaping wild beasts upon the top; as wel for terror of the enemies, as for ornament. The exam­ples are so frequent in all authors, that we have no need to bring any instances. It is pretty only what Festus In Retia­rio pugnanti. obser­veth in the Armor of the Mirmillones, That they had the image of a fish upon their head-piece; and therefore when the Retiarius was to fight with a Mirmilio, this was woont to be sung, Non te peto, piscem peto: quid me fugls Galle?

Geron was the name of a distaffe made with hands, after the manner of Mercurius quadratus, but most of all for the old mans head it had, whereof it drew this name. Pollux Onomast. lib. vii. cap. 16.

Gymnasiorum praesides dii. Places appointed for all sorts of bodily exercises were called Gymnasia, and in them the statues of Mercury, Hercules, and Theseus were seldom wan­ting, as having beene excellent Wrestlers, and consequent­ly fit patrons for such a place and exercise. See Pausan. li. iv.

Hecataea were certaine images of Hecate consecrated without the doores, or else in places where three sundry wayes doe meet. See Hesychius. These statues of Diana or Hecate, set up at the meeting of three severall ways, had most commonly three heads. See Ovid. lib. 1. Fast. vers. 141. Pausanias lib. 11. The reason why she was made with three heads is set downe by Cleomedes, lib. II. cap. 5.

Hermae were stone statues of Mercury. Arnobius speaketh [Page 166] of them when he saith, Lib. vi. ad­vers. Gentes. Who is there that doth not know the Athenian Hermae were made after the similitude of Alcibiades his body?

Hermes strophaeus was a statue of Mercury set up neer the doore, to free the house from Theeves. See Etymol. mag­num, & alios.

Hermines were called the beds feet, because in them there were most commonly carved the images of Hermes or Mer­cury, who was esteemed to rule both our sleepe and our dreames. See Etymol. magnum, Hesychius, and Didymus ad versum 198. Odyss. Ψ.

Ipsullices were plates of gold and silver, or any other mettall, resembling men and women. See Festus Pom­peius.

Irminsul was an image in compleat Armor, honoured by the ancient Saxons with divine worship. See Conr. Abbas Vesperg. ad annum DCCCCXIV. Vide quoque Bataviam Hadr. Junii, cap. xvi.

Jupiter Ctesius his image was most commonly erected in the Treasure-houses, or in the Exchequers, as being the pa­tron and giver of riches. See Harpocration and Suidas.

Kanathra are woodden images of Gryphons and Goat­harts, wherein they do carry little Girles when there is any pompe. See Plutarch in the life of Alcibiades.

Kinnabus is an image upon the which Painters and such like Artificers use to cast their eye when they do work. See Suidas.

Lampades in Juvenilem speciem formatae. Golden or sil­ver images of young men stood in severall roomes of kings palaces and other great houses, with torches in their hands, for the use of the night. See Lucretius, lib. II. vers. 24. Ho­mer. Odyss. n. vers. 100. and Athenaeus lib. 4. Deipnos. c. 2.

[Page 167] Leones lapidel. Upon the tombes of dead men there were very oft set up images of Lions in stone. Hercules lost one of his fingers when he fought with the Nemaean Lion. Wherefore at Lacedaemon, over the place where his finger was buried, a Lion of stone was set for a testimony of Her­cules his strength. And it grew afterwards a custom, to set such lions also upon the graves of other men. See Photius In excerptis ex lib. ii. Pto­lemaei Hephae stionis novae ad variam e­ruditionem historiae.. As it may then very well be, that this hath been for a while the practise of old times, so do we more often finde, That the Ancients most commonly erected such images upon the monuments of dead men, by which their maner of life, and course of studies might be understood.

Upon Sardanapalus his grave there was erected the sta­tue of Sardanapalus himselfe, clapping his hands together after their manner that take great joy in any thing. The in­scription was, Sardanapalus the son of Anacyndaraxa, built Anchialus and Tarsus in one day. But thou my friend, eate, drinke, play, seeing all other humane things are not so much worth. Signifying the rejoycing noyse made by such a clap­ping of hands. See Arrianus, lib. II. de Expedit. Alexandri magni.

The Corinthians set upon Diogenes Cynicus his grave a Dog of Parian marble. See Laërtius, lib. vii. The first A­fricanus appointed, that the statue of Q. Ennius should bee put upon his monument; desirous to joyne his so much re­nowned name with the name of the Poet. See Pliny, li. vii. Nat. hist. cap. 30. The Syracusians set upon Archimedes his tombe a Sphere with a Cylinder. See Tully lib. v. Tusc. Quest. The Longobards in later ages had this custome; if any one died in the wars, or any other manner of death, his kinsemen did sticke among the sepulchres a pearch in the ground, putting upon it a wooden pigeon, the which was [Page 168] turned towards their beloved friend, that by this meanes it might be knowne where he did rest. See Paulus Diaconus lib. v. degestis Longobard. cap 34.

Locorum sacrorum profanatio. The Gentiles were wont to set up some of their statues in holy places, to make the Christians leave the veneration of such places, as being now profaned by their idols: this was practised by Antiochus: see Machab. lib. II, cap. 6. Caligula did the same: see Oro­sius lib. vij, cap. 5. From the time of Hadrian the Emperour, to the times of Constantin, sayth S. Jerome Lib. II. E­pist. famil. 14. very neere one hundred and fourscore yeares, there hath been an image of Jupi­ter set up and worshipped by the Heathens in the place of the Re­surrection, and another marble statue of Venus upon the rocke of the crosse: the authors of persecution weening that they should lessen in us the faith of the Crosse and Resurrection, if they had defiled the holy places by their idols.

Manducus was an image that went anciently in the solem­nitie of a pompous shew among other ridiculous and terri­ble images; it had huge jawes, and it did gape fearefully, making a foule noise with his teeth: see Festus Pompeius.

Manes, a little image mentioned by Suidas, where he doth describe the manner of playing at Cottabus.

Marsyas, a minister of Liber pater, is a signe of the libertie of such Cities as have his statue in their market-places; he sheweth by his hand lifted up, that the Citie doth want no­thing, sayth Servius upon IV Aen. vers. 58. So sayth he a­gaine upon III Aen. vers. 20, all Cities in the times of our ancestours were stipendiarie, or confederate, or free: the free cities had a statue of Marsyas publikely set up, who was in the protection of Liber pater, unto whom they did sacri­fice for their libertie.

Neurospasta, were puppets that by the means of some hid­den [Page 169] strings could move every joint with a handsome and gracefull comelinesse. See Aristoteles de mundo, as it is inter­preted by Apuleius. As also Herodotus in Euterpe, Xenophon in Symposio.

Oppidorum caeptorum imagines. The images of conque­red cities were carried about in the shewes made by them that did triumph: these images were sometimes of silver. See Ovid. lib. II de Ponto, Eleg. 1. Sometimes of ivory. See the same Ovid. lib. III. de Ponto, Eleg. 4. Sometimes also of wood. See Quintil. lib. vi. Orat. Instit. cap. 3. where it is reported, That Chrysippus, when he had seen silver cities ca­ried about in Caesar his triumph, and saw some few dayes after woodden ones carried about in Fabius Maximus his triumph, affirmed these woodden cities to be nothing else but the cases of Caesar his silver ones.

Oraculum quercuum Dodonaearum. The Oracle of the Dodonaean Okes is famous for the harmonicall ringing of brasse, stirred by a statue. See Suidas, where he speaketh of Dodona.

Oscilla, were little bables to play withall; containing some fourteen Geometrical figures at the most, saith Ausonius In Epistola praefixâ Cen­toni nuptiali.; and by the couching of these joints together, thousand severall sorts of shapes are resembled: an Elephant, a wilde Boore, a fly­ing Goose, a Mirmillo sinking downe in his armour, a Hunts­man, a barking Dog, a Tower also, a Tankard, and an infinite number of other figures, more cunningly varied by one than a­nother: so that the sleight used by the skilfull is miraculous; and the best endeavor of the unskilfull is ridiculous. See what Jos. Scaliger hath observed upon Ausonius.

Palaestrae. The wrestling places were adorned with the statues of great champions. See Pliny, lib. xxxv cap 2.

Paladia were woodē images on the forpart of the ship consecrated [Page 170] to Pallas. They made very much of these images when they meant to go to sea. See Suidas; as also Schol. ret. in Acharnenses Aristophanis.

Pataici were likewise little images like Pygmaees. These were also by the Phoenicians set upon the forepart of their ships. Herodotus, lib. III. hist. Hesychius, Suidas.

Penates were a certaine kinde of houshold gods. See Ser­vius, ad vers 12 & 148. libri 3. Aeneid. The houshold gods, saith Cornutus, In Persii, Sat. 5. were made in the habit of Cinctus Gabinus, their gowne being throwne ouer their left shoulder, with their right shoulder bare.

Portis urbium adstabant statuae. There were most com­monly some statues erected neere the city gates. Ambra­cia erected two brasen statues of men before the city gates, saith Varro, lib. iv. de L. L. Cedrenus doth also witnesse, That be­fore the publique gate of Edessa there was a statue conse­crated, standing somewhat high, which was to be adored by all them that went in or out. In the time of Apollonius Ty­anëus also, a golden statue of the king was exposed unto them that meant to come in at the gates of Babylon: neither might any one enter the city, unlesse he had first adored it after the Persian manner. See Philostr. lib. I, de vita Apollo­nii, cap. 19.

Prosopoutta in the Attick language was called a brasen vessell, having about the mouth severall faces of Lions and Oxen; from whence it drew the name: Hesychius. Jul. Pol­lux Onomast. lib. II. So doth the same Pollux also teach us in the same place, that antiently a maker of these kinde of vessels was called Prosopopoios, a face-maker.

Satyrica signa. The images of Satyrs were as well set up in gardens, to keepe them from Theeves, as the image of Priapus. See Pliny, lib. xix. Nat. hist. cap. 4. As for the Lamp­sacene [Page 171] god Priapus, it needs no long relation what use they made of him, seeing all antient Authors are too full of it.

Sceletus. In the Aegyptian feasts there was most com­monly carried about the image of a dead man, high one cu­bit or sometimes two cubits. See Herodotus, lib. II. hist. Plu­tarch in Symposio septem sap. Tzetes Chiliad. III. hist. 92. Al­though Lucian de Luctu. saith, That he hath seene true dead bodies brought in the banquet, after they had bin seasoned a good while and dried up.

Sceptrum Babyloniorum. Every one of the Babylonians carried a Scepter, having upon the top an apple, a Rose, a Lilly an Aegle, or any such like thing: for they might not carry a scepter, but that it was to have such a mark. See He­rodotus, lib. I. histor.

The Ivory Scepter of the Roman Consuls had also an Aegle upon the top of it. See Juvenal, Satyrâ X. v. 43. as also Aurel. Prudentius, in Romano Martyre.

Sella curulis had images of ivory ingraven in it. See Ovid lib. iv, de Ponto, Eleg. 9, vers. 22.

Sistrum was an instrument used by the Aegyptians in the sacrifices of Isis, having upon the top a cat with the head of a man, and underneath the face of Isis or Nephtys. See Plu­tarch, de Iside & O siride. Strabo, lib. xvii, Geograph.

Stabula: Stables were adorned with the image of Epona: See Apuleius, lib. III, Metamorph.

Tabernaculum Alexandri magni. The tent of Alexander the Great was supported by some statues. See Pliny, lib. xxxiv, cap. 8.

Termini, or bound-stones, signified diuers things, accor­ding to the several figures ingraven upon them. The bound stone when it hath the claw of a Wolfe engraved, signifieth a strange tree. The bound-stone when it hath a Beares [Page 172] claw engraved, signifieth a Grove. The bound-stone when it hath a cloven footed figure ingraved, signifieth that there is a water spring issuing forth from underneath the stone. The bound-stone when it hath a Calfs head engraven, sig­nifieth that the waters come forth out of two mountaines; as also that the plough-men of the next villages were wont to sacrifice upon that stone. The bound-stone when it hath an horses hoofe engraved, signifieth a race-marke, and sendeth us to a fountaine. Vide auctores vett. de Limitib. a­grorum.

Tritones aerei. Antiently on the tops of their highest tow­ers they set Tritons made of brasse, as now thinne plates of Latten or Copper framed in the shape of a Cocke, and pla­ced on the tops of steeples, doe shew the winds. Some were pleased to confine the windes within the number of foure, saith Vitruvius; Lib. 1. ca. 6 from the Sun-rising in the Aequinoctial, the East: from the mid-day, the South: from the Sun-setting in the Ae­quinoctiall, the West: from the North, the North winde. But those that have made more diligent search, have delivered them to be eight. Andronicus Cyrrhestes most especially, who for example and proofe thereof, raised at Athens a Tower of marble eight square; and he made in each flat side of the same the image of each wind directly opposit to the point from whence it blew, and on the top of the said marble tower hee made a short Pike, and set thereon a Triton of brasse, with the right hand hol­ding forth a three toothed rod, so framed, that it was carried a­bout by the winde, and ever stood directly against the blast, and held out the rod pointing at the wind that blew, over the Image of the same. There are therefore placed betweene the East and South, at the Sunne rising in the winter season, the South-East winde: betweene the South and West at the sunne setting, in the Winter season, the South-West winde: betweene the West [Page 173] and North, the North-West wind: between the North and East, the North-East wind.

Vellus aureum. That honourable badge of the golden fleece, first instituted by Philip Duke of Burgondie, second of that name, is wont with much earnestnesse to bee desired and sought by the noblest Peers of a most flourishing king­dome: even as long since the Flowre of Greece with Jason their leader, underwent great labours and dangers, in hope to possesse that Fleece: although, as it evidently appeareth, this later fleece cast or graven by Goldsmiths art, is far dif­ferent from the former, which that daring Youth caried a­way from Colchos: for that golden fleece is thought to have been nothing else but a booke written in parchment, teaching how by the helpe of Chymicall art gold is to bee made. See Suidas in severall places. Eustathius also ad vers. 689 Dionysii de situ orbis, where Charax a most antient Au­thor of this opinion is alledged. It seemeth therefore that the Antients not without reason derived the descent of Aeët as from the Sunne, the onely nourisher and fountaine of mettal-breeding heate. Diogenes also in Stobaeus Serm. de Assiduitate. wit­nesseth Medea to have been not a sorceresse, but a woman of knowne wisedome, who with laborious exercises hardned soft and effoeminate men, and as it were with boiling resto­red them to the vigor of their former youth. Palaephatus addeth, That she had singular skill in colouring of hair, and that by a certaine decoction found out by her, she was wont to cure the infirmities of many by the benefit of this hot bath. See Palaephatus de Fabulosis narrationibus.

Vertumnus was a god that did turne himselfe into all shapes. See Propertius, lib. iv, Eleg. 2. His statues were ere­cted in many severall places of the city of Rome, and almost in every municipall towne of Italy: his countenance was [Page 175] made uncertaine, and he turned himselfe into the shape of divers gods, according to the diversitie of the habit that was put upon him. See Acron in Horat. lib. II. Sat. 7.

Veritatis simulachrum. The Aegyptian priests had the image of Truth cut in a pretious stone, hanging about their neck. See Aelian lib. xiv, var. hist. cap. 34. and Diodo­rus Siculus lib. I. Compare these places with the sacred hi­story. But observe here in the meane time, that Aelian and Diodorus, in stead of what we have translated, an Image of Truth, use a word signifying a statue of Truth. So doth Pli­ny likewise speake after the same manner when hee saith, Lib. xxxiii nat. hist. ca. 3. Men also begin to carry Harpocrates, and the statues of other Aegyptian gods on their fingers. Seeing then it could not be, that statues should hang about their neckes, and that they should weare statues on their fingers, wee do perceive by this confusion of names, that there was but small difference made between the art of graving and statuary; and we may upon this occasion very well digresse a little to the conside­ration of such things as were engraven.

§ 12. Things engraven were of severall sorts:

Baltheus caelatus, an engraved Belt. Ovid. IX. Metam. vers. 189.

Capuli militum. The hilts of souldiers swords are engra­ved with silver, ivory beeing set light by: sayth Pliny, lib. xxxiii, cap. 12. Theseus escaped present death by his en­graved ivorv hilt. See Ovid, lib. vii Metam. vers. 423. Pau­sanias his sword, famous for the waggon with foure horses it had engraved in the hilt, was fatall unto Philip the King of Macedonia. See Aelian, lib. III, var. hist. cap. 45. and Va­ler. Max. lib. I, cap. 8, ex ext. 9.

Carrucae, Carts engraved. See Pliny, lib. xxxiii, cap. 11. Crystalla. Some Crystall hath a flaw in it like unto a [Page 174] breach; which is hid by the artificers when they do engrave something upon the Crystall. See Pliny, lib. XXXVII, Cap. 2.

Cunae segmentatae; a cradle inlayd with wood of severall colours, graved and carved in diuers shapes. Juvenal, Saty­râ vi, vers. 89.

Esseda Britanna, an engraved chariot used by the ancient Brittons in their wars. Propert. lib. II, Eleg. 1.

Figulina vasa caelata, earthen vessels with some engra­vings upon it. See Martial, lib. iv, Epigr. 46. Cotys the king being by nature cholericke, and very much given to cha­stise them severely, that did commit some offences in their ordinary kinde of service: when a stranger brought unto him thinne and brittle earthen vessels, but neatly wrought with some carved and turned works, he rewarded the stran­ger, and brake all the vesiels, Lest, said he, I should in an an­gry fume punish them too severely, that might breake them unawares. See Plutarch, Apopht. Regum & Imperatorum.

Galeae caelatae, brasen head-pieces engraved with Corin­thian worke, are mentioned by Tully, lib. iv. in Verrem. So doth Juvenal also speake of an engraved helmet, Satyrâ xi, vers. 103.

Hydriae caelatae, great water-pots engraved with Corin­thian worke, are mentioned by Tully, lib. iv, in Verrem.

Lesbium was a kinde of engraved vessel invented by the Lesbians. See Festus Pomp.

Panis caelaturae, the engravings of bread. See Pliny, lib. xix, cap. 4.

Scuta caelata, engraved shields. It was an ordinary thing in the times of the Trojan war, sayth Pliny, Lib. xxxi. nat. hist. ca. 3. that the shields should containe images. The originall of this custome did pro­ceed out of a vertuous occasion, that namely the owners image [Page 176] should be expressed in every one his shield. The Carthaginians made both the shields and the images of gold, bringing them in­to their campe. So that their campe being taken, Q. Martius the revenger of the Scipio's in Spaine, found such a one: and that shield was fastned over the gate of the Capitoline Temple, till the first burning of the Capitol. Achilles his shield is descri­bed by Homer, lliad Σ. vers. 474 & sequ. See also the yon­ger Philostratus, in Pyrrho. Aeneas his shield is described by Virgil, lib. viii, Aeneid. Stesichorus and Euphorion relate, that Ulysses carried the image of a dolphin in his shield. See Tzetzes in Lycophronis Cassandram. Alcibiades did ever study to seeme faire, but most of all when he led an Army: so was he then woont to have a shield made of ivory and gold, and he had in it the ensigne of Cupid embracing the Lightning. See Plutarch, in Alcibiade: and Athenaeus, lib. xii, Deipnosophist. cap. 9. The shield of Crenaeus, engraved with a most wonderfull art, is described by Statius Papinius, lib. ix, Thebaïd vers. 333. Nileus vainely boasting himself to issue forth from the Nile, had the seven mouths of that noble river engraven upon his shield, partly of gold, partly of silver. See Ovid, lib. v, Metamorph. vers. 187. Scaevola, mentioned by Silius Italicus, lib. viii, had the image of his resolute fore-father Mutius Scaevola engraved upon his shield. The same Silius, lib. xvii, relateth, that the shield of Scipio Africanus had the images of his father and his un­cle engraved upon it.

Vehicula caelata, so sayth Q. Curtius, lib. III, cap. 3. that there did follow the camp of Darius, ten waggons engra­ved with a great deale of gold and silver.

Vitrum caelatum. Of the engraving of glasse are these words of Pli. lib. xxxvi, c. 26. some glasse is fashioned by blow­ing, some is turned, some is ingraved after the maner of silver.

[Page 177] § 13. After a sufficient relation of many workes of Art, wee may not forget here the severall coines of money, a thing most needfull for the commerce of Nations. And what is money, I pray you, but silver cut in small faces and titles, as Juvenal speaketh Satyrâ xiv, vers. 291. Those that know how to discerne the severall sorts of coines judicious­ly, finde a wonderfull difference between the monies coi­ned in the times when these Arts of imitation did flourish, and when they were neglected: and they doe esteeme it a most easie thing to know by the money, what forwardnesse or backwardnesse of Art there was in the times that money was coined. But among many most accurat sorts of coine anciently famous, the Cyziceni stateres were most of all re­nowned, as being well stamped: they had a womans face on the one side, and the fore-part of a Lion on the other side: see Hesychius and Suidas; as also Zenobius and Diogenianus parmiographers.

§ 14. That the most ancient Hebrewes have had the use of sealing-rings, is prooved by the ring Juda gave unto Thamar for a pledge till he should performe his promise: see Genes. xxxviii. So doe we likewise read Exod. xxxix, 6. that among other ornaments of the Priest, they wrought onyx stones enclosed in ouches of gold, graven as signets are graven, with the names of the children of Israël. The Grecians seeme to have attained a great deale later to the knowledge of sealing-rings: and that, either for ignorance, as not knowing how to grave stones; or else, because they did respect gemmes more then to mangle them with cut­ting. Their ignorance is detected by Hesychius, Theophrast. hist. plant. lib. v, cap. I. Tzetzes adversum 508 Lycophronis Cassandrae; for these authors doe teach us, that the most an­cient among them, for want of other means, were wont to [Page 178] seale with worm-eaten pieces of wood: so doth Plinie Lib. xxxiii, cap. 1. al­so witnesse that the greatest part of the Nations that were under the Romane Empire had not yet in his age the use of rings; and the Easterne Countries or Aegypt doe not yet signe, sayth he, being contented with bare letters. Their venerati­on is mentioned by the same Plinie in the preface of his 37 booke, where he sayth that they did thinke it unlawfull to violate gemmes: and afterwards in the fifth chapter of the sayd booke, where he doth speake of Smaradgs, they are for the most part hollow, sayth he, as to gather the sight; wherefore they are spared by the decree of men, it being for bidden that they should be cut. Herodotus Lib. III. hist. for all this relateth that the fa­mous sealing-ring of Polycrates was a Smaradge graven by Theodorus Samius, quite contrary to the opinion of Plinie lib. xxxvij, cap. 1. But of this, God willing, more at large in our Catalogue of Artificers.


THe use of these Arts therefore extending it selfe generally to all employments both in warre and peace, it may not seeme strange that all sorts of men did honour them very much, and that the spirits of the Artificers likewise finding themselves so much honoured for their Art, did still endeavour to encrease this enjoyed favour by daily advancing these highly esteemed Arts. Industrie is fed by glorie, sayth Salust. orat. 2. de Rep. ordinandâ: as many as are led by the hope of glory and fame, are wonderfully taken with the praise and approbation proceeding from the inferior sort of [Page 179] men also, sayth the younger Plinie lib. IV, epist. 12. Honour doth nourish Arts, sayth Tullie Circa initi­um libri Pri­mi Tuscul. quaest., and wee are all drawne by glory to take paines; so are also such things ever neglected, as are little regarded in the opinion of men. All things certainly doe so much stand upon this reward, that Picture also (though shee doth possesse a great deale of pleasure and contentment in her owne selfe) is very much encouraged by the present fruit of praise and opinion: for what else meant C. Fabius a most noble Romane? sayth Val. Maxim Lib. VIII. cap. 14. ex. 6.. who when he had painted the walls of the temple of Salus, before dedicated by C. Junius Bubulcus, he set his owne name to it: as if a consular, sacerdotall, and triumphall familie stood yet in want of this ornament: following herein the example of Phydias, who so placed his owne image in the shield of Miner­va, that it could not be taken away, without dissolving the whole joynture of the worke. Quintilian therefore sayth very well Lib. IV. o­rat. instit. cap. 2., wee doe all depend upon praise, thinking it to be the uttermost end of our labour. Sauros and Batrachos may serve for an ex­ample, who being Lacedaemonians by nation, made temples within the porches of Octavia, sayth Plinie Lib. xxxvi, nat. hist. cap. 5., some hold also that being very wealthy they built them on their owne charges, hoping for the honour of an inscription; which being denied them, they found meanes to steale it another way; for on the lower squares of the pillars are yet engraved a lizard and a frogge, by which their names are signified. The same Plinie al­so had good reason to say in another place Lib. xxxv, cap. 1., Picture was a noble Art in ancient times, when it was sought for by Kings and Nations. And Plutarch doth shew at the First beginning of his Second booke of Alexander his vertue or fortune, that in the times of this great King there was so great an encrease of Arts and Artificers, because the rare wittes of excellent Artificers foresaw that they could not want the favourable [Page 180] estimation of such a Judge, if they did any thing worth his sight.

§ 2. That great and eminent men in ancient times were very skilfull in these Arts, may be gathered out of that love and respect the Artificers enjoyed. It is by a naturall vice grafted and rooted in the brests of men, that such as doe not un­derstand the Arts, doe not admire the Artificers, sayth Sidoni­us Apollinaris lib. v, epist. 10. Vertues are obscured by reason of the ignorance of Art, sayth Vitruvius in prooemio libri Ter­tii. Seeing then that excellent Artificers thinke themselves to be placed upon a Theater, where nothing heateth their forward spirits so much as the astonished acclamations and applauses of all sorts of men, it was no wonder that many did excell in those times when Kings with their Peeres re­sorted to the shops of Painters, kindling in the hearts of the Artificers an unspeakable desire to have this glory still con­tinued and encreased. Demetrius surnamed Poliorcetes, whilest he was at the siege of Rhodes, did not stick to come to Protogenes, who was then busie with the picture of Jaly­sus, and leaving the hope of his victory, he beheld the Artificer in the midst of hostill weapons and batterings of the wall, as Plinie speaketh, lib. xxxv, cap. 10. see that copious Au­thor himselfe. The great monarch Alexander came likewise to Apelles his shop, very often accompanied with a good many Princes: and although it was the greatest honour mans heart could wish, that the monarch of the world, whose judgement was esteemed to be the judgement of the world, should expresse his favour after so loving and fami­liar a manner; yet hath this magnanimous King found ano­ther way, to grace the Artificer a great deale more: for when he had commanded, sayth Plinie Lib. xxxv, cap. 10., that Campaspe, one of his most beloved Concubines, in regard of her wonderfull [Page 181] beautie, should be painted naked by Apelles; he gave her unto Apelles, when he perceived him to be as deepe intangled in the love of the woman as he found himselfe to be: great was his minde, and yet was the conquering of his owne lust greater: wherefore hath he likewise been as much esteemed for this deed, as for any other victorie; seeing he overcame himselfe in this. Neither did he give his bed onely to the Artificer, but his affecti­on also: not so much as suffering himselfe to be moved with the respect of his beloved, but rather giving way that shee who had beene a Kings concubine, should now be the concubine of a Pain­ter. Out of the like respect of Art came it to passe, that the same King, to leave a truer image unto posteritie, would not have his image by many Artificers promiscuously defiled; ma­king a proclamation thorough all his Dominions, that no bodie should unadvisedly undertake to expresse his image in brasse, in colours, or in any engraved worke; but that Polycletus alone should caste him in brasse, Apelles alone should paint him in colours, Pyrgoteles alone should engrave him: besides these three, who were most famous for their workmanship, if any one was found any where to meddle with the sacred image of the King, he should be severely punished for his sacrilegious attempt. The feare therefore of this edict brought to passe, that Alexan­der his image was every where the prime image; and that in all statues, pictures, and engravings there was to be seene the same vigour of a most vehement warrier, the same markes of the greatest dignitie, the same livelinesse of his fresh youth, the same grace of his high forehead. Apuleius in Floridis. Observe here by the way, that Horace nameth Lysippus in stead of Polycle­tus: see him lib. II, Epist. 1.

§ 3. As wee see in the former relation how much Artifi­cers were countenanced in olde times, so doe we likewise understand the great esteem they were in by the high rates [Page 182] their workes were prised at. It is knowne that a picture of Bularchus the Painter was valued at the weight of it in gold by Candaules King of Lydia: so much was the Art even in those times esteemed, Plin. lib. xxxv, cap. 8. Aristides the Thebane painted a battell fought with the Persians, where­in were an hundred figures, and he agreed with Mnason the tyrant of the Eleatenses to receive ten minas for every figure. He was so powerfull in his Art, that King Attalus is reported to have bought one of his pictures for an hundred talents; Plinie xxxv, 10. Polycletus made Diadumenon ten­derly youthfull, which was famous for the price of an hun­dred talents; Plinie xxxiv, 8. When L. Mummius saw that Attalus the King bought out of the prey of Corinth one piece done by Aristides for six thousand sesterces, he could not but wonder at the price; wherefore suspecting that there was some unknowne vertue in that picture, he called it backe, not without great complaints of Attalus, Plinie xxxv, 4. Apelles having painted Alexander the great in the temple of Diana Ephesia, holding a thunderbolt in his hand, at the price of twentie talents of gold, the reward of his workmanship was given him in golden coin by measure not by number; Plinie xxxv, 10. Lucullus agreed with Arcesi­laus a worker in clay to make him an image of Felicitie for xliiii sesterces: the death of both hindered the worke. And when Octavius a Romane knight would make a fine drink­ing-cup, Arcesilaus had a talent of him for making a pattern of plaister-worke. Plinie xxxv, 12. Mnason the tyrant gave unto Asclepiodorus for the images of twelve Gods three hundred minas a piece: the same Mnason gave also unto Theomnestus an hundred minas for the picture of every one of the Worthies painted by him Plinie xxxv, 10. Hortensius the orator bought Cydias his Argonaurs for xliiij sesterces, [Page 183] and made a chappell for this picture in his Tusculan coun­try-house; Plinie xxxv, 11. Timomachus Byzantius in the times of Caesar dictator made for him the pictures of Ajax and Medea; Caesar payed fourscore talents for them, setting them up in the temple of Venus genetrix. Plin. xxxv, 11. In the mention of Statues there is one neere the Rostra that may not be forgotten, although the author of it be not knowne; the Statue of Hercules cloathed in an Elean habit: he hath a lowring countenance, and seemeth to feele his last agonie in his coat. That this Statue was judged to be worth a great deale of strife, may be gathered out of the three ti­tles it sheweth: the first is, that it was L. Lucullus the gene­rall his booty taken from the enemies: the second is, that Lucullus his sonne a pupill did dedicate it by the decree of the Senate: the third is, that T. Septimius Sabinus, when he was Aedilis curulis, restored it to the publike out of a privat possession; Plin. xxxiv, 8. M. Agrippa, though he was a man that might seeme to be more given to rusticitie then to such kinde of delicacies, yet did he buy from the inhabitants of Cyzicus two pictures of Ajax and Venus for twelve thou­sand sesterces. Plin. xxxv, 4. Tiberius the Emperour was ta­ken very much with Parrhasius his Archigallus, and kept this picture, valued LX sesterces, in his bed-chamber. Plin. xxxv, 10. It is reported that hundred talents of the tribute enjoyned were abated to the inhabitants of Coos, to make them willing to part with the picture of Venus anadyomene. Strabo lib. XIV. Geogr. Nicomedes the King would have bought Praxiteles his Venus of the Gnidians, offering for it to pay all their debts, which did amount to a great summe of money: but they chose rather to endure any extremitie, then to part with such a rare piece of worke: neither was it without cause that the Gnidians did shew themselves so re­solute, [Page 184] seeing Praxiteles made Gnidus renowned by this piece of worke. Plinie xxxvi, 5. Lysippus made the statue of one rubbing of himselfe, which Marcus Agrippa dedica­ted and set up before the entrance into his bathes. Tiberius the Emperour was so much taken with this statue, that, al­though in the beginning of his raigne he had his affections in his power, he could not long command himselfe in this, but tooke it away and set it up in his bed-chamber, placing another in the roome of it, which the people of Rome took so hainously, that in the publike theaters with one voice they often and with much importunitie required it might be restored; never ceasing till the Emperour, though much against his will, caused it to be set up in the former plate a­gaine. Plinie xxxiv, 8. Our age saw in the chancell of June in the Capitoll a dogge of brasse licking the hinder parts of swine: the singular miracle and neere resemblance unto truth of which statue is not onely understood in that it was dedicated there, but by a new kinde of suretiship taken for it also; for it being valued at so high a rate, that no summe of money was thought sufficiently answerable for the losse of it, it was resolved by publicke advice, that those which undertooke the custodie of it, should binde their owne bo­dies for the performance of their undertakings. Plin. xxxiv, 7. It is much questioned who were the makers of Olympus, Pan, Chiron, and Achilles, which are set up in a place knowne by the name of Septa; much the more, because fame hath delivered them worthy to be answered with the lives of them that undertook their keeping. Plinie xxxvi, 5. The ex­ample of Clesis made famous by the injurie done to Queene Stratonice is very remarkable: for much disdaining the slender entertainment he received from her, he painted her in the wanton embracements of a fisher-man the Queene [Page 185] was sayd to be in love withall; and leaving this picture ex­posed to the publike view in the haven of Ephesus, he took shipping and escaped away: the Queene, for the excellen­cy of the Art and rare expression of the persons, would not suffer the picture to be removed; so bestowing upon the art, though in a subject most contumelious and spightfull, the honor she had denied to the Artificer, Plinie xxxv, 11.

§ 4. It appeareth by all these examples what care great Kings and mightie Common-wealths tooke to cherish the brave spirits of excellent Artificers; and there was good cause for it; seeing it most of all concerneth those that are vertuous, for the upholding of Arts invented, to make some difference betweene deserving and undeserving men. Whosoever performeth deeds worthy of verses, sayth In praefat. libri Tertii de laudib. Stili­conis. Claudian, is also a lover of verses: even so must they needs love Sta­tues, who know themselves worthy of that honour. The Artificers themselves did likewise reape great profit out of this respect the flower of the world gave them; neither was it possible they should thinke meanly of themselves, seeing they could not but judge their Arts worth so much as they saw them valued at by the matchlesse moderators of earthly things: having therefore once drunke in this perswasion, they were instantly possessed with the love of a strange mag­nanimitie. Nicias refused to sell his picture called Necyia to King Attalus, who offered for it LX talents: but being him­selfe very rich, chose rather to bestow it as a present upon his Country. Plinie xxxv, 11. Zeuxis first began to make presents of his workes, saying that no price could be an­swerable to their worth; so he bestowed Alomena upon the inhabitants of Agrigentum, Pan upon Archelaus; Plinie xxxv, 9. Polygnotus painted at Athens the porch called Poe­cile freely; whereas Mycon did paint a part of it for a reward: [Page 186] no wonder then that Polygnotus was of more esteeme and authoritie: and the Amphictyones, a publike councell of Greece, bestowed upon him lodgings rent-free; Plinie xxxv, 9. It was then discreetly done of these Artificers, that they would not lessen the authoritie of their Art: seeing many things lose their worth for nothing so much, sayth Quintilian Lib. XII, cap. 7., as that they may be prised at a certaine rate.

§ 5. By the consideration of the honour given to these Arts, the Artificers themselves were admonished to use them with more respect, and being ashamed to confine Arts of so large extent within a narrow compasse, they would not employ them in adorning the walls of private houses for the delight of particular land-lords onely, nor of such places as could not be defended from the danger of casuall fires. Protogenes was contented with a little cottage in his garden. In the plaisterings of Apelles his house there was ne­ver any picture to be seene: no body as yet tooke a pleasure in painting whole walls over: all their art was for Cities, and the Painter was a publike thing for the benefit of all Countries, sayth Plinie xxxv, 10. There is extant a most magnificent and worthy oration of M. Agrippa, sayth the same Author Lib. xxxv, cap. 4., concerning the publishing of all Pictures and Statues; which were better it had been done, then that they should be banished and confined to some private country-houses. The old Artifi­cers therefore as they would not have their workes smoo­thered up in some private corners, so were they very care­full in publishing them; and it proceeded out of this same veneration of the Art, that the founders of painting and ca­sting, sayth Plinie In praefatio­ne ardui operis., inscribed their accomplished workes, and such as can never satisfie our admiration, with an uncertaine title, saying, Apelles faciebat aut Polycletus, Apelles or Poly­cletus made it: to make the world thinke that the Art was but [Page 187] begun and left unperfect; that the Artificer likewise by this means might looke for pardon, even as if he should have men­ded all, unlesse he had been intercepted by an untimely death. So was it then a custome full of modesty, and it did shew in them a wonderfull veneration of these Arts, that they would have po­steritie looke upon all their workes as if they were their last workes, and that the fatall houre had taken them away before they could make a full end. It is reported that there have beene but three pictures which were absolutely inscribed, Apelles fe­cit, Apelles hath made it: whereby it did appeare that the au­thor would have the Art above all things secured: and for this reason were all such workes subject to a great deale of envie. That now they sped well with that tender care they had of the credit of these Arts, is manifest out of the following words of Plinie, It is a very rare and most memorable thing, sayth he Lib. xxxv, cap. 11., that the last workes of Artificers and their unper­fect pictures have been in greater admiration then the perfect; as namely, Aristides his Iris, Nicomachus his Tyndarides, Timomachus his Medea, Apelles his Venus; seeing there are in such kinde of Pictures to be seene the remaining lineaments and the very thoughts of the Artificers: so doth our griefe also commend the worke unto us, whilest we cannot but love and de­sire the hands which perished in the midst of such a worke. But here must we needs note by the way, that when the ancient Artificers are sayd to have been spurred on by the hope of glory, it is meant of the true and solid glory, and not of a false and momentany shadow of the same. Many that moun­tebank-like onely brag of their Art, mistake themselves herein very much; for whilest they doe by a preposterous ambition make haste to attaine to the much desired glory and praise, they doe thinke themselves very well if they can but make their pictures faire to the eye of unskilfull specta­tors, [Page 188] setting forth as in a shop whatsoever may trimme and garnish their worke: it is their owne credit they seeke, and not the credit of the Art. But Art on the other side doth laugh them to scorn that are so contumelious against her, sayth Quin­tilian lib. X, cap. 7. And whilest they would faine bring to passe that the unskilfull should thinke them skilfull, the skil­full doe in the meane time find them to be altogether un­skilfull: to please the vulgar sort of people onely, sayth Plu­tarch De Educ. lib., is to displease the wiser sort: but of this care procee­ding out of a venerable respect of Art shall wee speake at large by and by in the eleventh Chapter.

§ 6. This generous love of an everlasting renowne con­tinued in the Artificers as long as these Arts were had in e­steeme by Kings and Nations: but after that the love of money began to thrust this veneration of Art out of the hearts of men, Artificers also grew thinner and thinner, till none at length were left: this was the observation of Arbiter a good while since: I did aske, sayth he In Satyrico., a most skilfull man concerning the different ages and times of diverse pictures, as also concerning some other arguments obscure unto me, exami­ning withall the causes of our present sloathfulnes, by the which so many brave Arts are utterly lost, and how it came to passe that the art of painting among such a number of decayed Arts had not retained so much as the least shadow of her ancient beau­tie. His answer was, that the love of money made this change. For in old time, when naked vertue was yet in esteem, sayd he, all kinde of ingenuous arts did flourish; and the greatest strife amongst men was, that nothing might be long hid what might be for the profit of posteritie. To speake then something of Sta­tuaries, povertie hath undone Lysippus whilest he did hang a­bout the lineaments of one statue; and Myron, who did in a manner enclose the soules of men and wilde beasts in brasse, [Page 189] could finde no heire. But we now, lying deepely plunged in drun­kennesse and lechery, dare not so much as try any arts: and ta­king upon us to be accusers, rather than followers of antiquity, we teach and learne nothing else but vices. Doe not wonder therefore that picture is lost, seeing all the gods and men think a lumpe of gold better than all that Apelles and Phydias a couple of doting Grecians have made. See also Theocr. Idyl. xvi. Plin. in prooemio lib. xiv. Dionys. Longinus de sublimi O­rat. § ultimâ.

§ 7. When such great and eminent men therefore as should have been the supporters of art, grew slacke, estee­ming their chiefest felicitie to consist in the possession of gold and silver; those arts also which from their greatest good were called Liberall, became servile. For the Artifi­cers finding but small comfort in the exercise of their owne arts, did most readily and heartily embrace the most offen­sive solace of luxurious pastime, studying only how to sup­ply the expences of luxury by avarice; and so quenching the small remnant of generous thoughts, by these two most pestilent and pernitious vices, it could not then be other­wise, but that both Arts and artificers should mis-carry and go to wracke. Of luxury sayth Seneca the Rhetorician, In prooem. lib. I. contro­vers. There is nothing so deadly to the wit of man as luxurie. Of A­varice, sayth Epictetus, Arriani E­pict. li. iv. c. 4. The desire of riches maketh men base minded. See Horace in his Art of Poësie. Gold and silver was in old time mixed with brasse, sayth Pliny, Li. xxxiv. Nat. hist. c. 4. and yet was the art more costly than the materiall. Now on the contrary, it is uncertaine whether the art or the materiall bee worse: And which is very strange, though the value of rare workes is infi­nitely encreased, yet is the authoritie of the art quite gone: see­ing all is now done for gaine, what was wont to be done for glo­ry. Marke here onely by the way, that these words of Pliny [Page 190] doe not disallow of all gaine, neither can there be any juster kinde of gaine, than out of the honest industry of a labo­rious Art; principally if the sayd Art take up so much of a mans time, that hee cannot thinke of any other way to gain by. Pliny his meaning is, That the ancient artificers did first and most of all aime at glory, knowing that they should have gaine enough, having once obtained the credit of a good workman. These two things may therfore very wel stand together, That an artificer should chiefely intend the glory of his name, and yet in the second place looke after some reasonable gaine; seeing an honest desire of gain, free from the basenesse of a minde that gapeth for nothing but money, doth greatly encrease our endeavors in all maner of Arts. It is knowne well enough, sayth Cassiodorus, Variar. 7. 15. that the studies of Arts are to be nourished and maintained with reaso­nable rewards. Theophylactus Simocatus expresseth the same more copiously: The hunger and thirst of gold in mankinde, saith he, Epist. 10. is very profitable; for thereby our life is furnished with good arts, cities are inhabited, and mutuall contracts are performed with a great deale of ease. To be briefe, the inhabited world should be deprived of all decencie of order, if for the in­tercourse of gold men stood not in need of one the other. A mari­ner would not put to sea, a traveller would not undertake a journey, husbandmen would not be troubled with the keeping of plow-oxen, the soveraignty of Royall scepters should want re­spect, the subjects could not be honoured with dignities and re­venues, it should not be in the power of a General to lead an Ar­my. And if you will learne a great secret, Gold is put in trust with the reines of vertue and vice; the appetite of our soule is tried by it, seeing it may very well be compared with the Celtick River, in that it yeeldeth an unfallible proofe of counterfeit vertue.


UPon the enjoying of glory followeth a confi­dent boldnesse of art. The Art hath been in­credibly advanced, sayth Pliny, Lib. xxxiv. cap. 7. by successe first, and afterward by boldnesse. Understand here by Successe nothing else, but that same veneration Art enjoyed as long as Kings and Nations made much of it. Afterwards by boldnesse, saith hee, to insinuate unto us, that this successe made the artificers more prompt and ready to venture upon greater matters. The huge Co­losses of the Antients may serve here for an example; and Pliny in the sayd place bringeth in some of them for a testi­mony of their most confident boldnesse. Zeuxis hath bin above all the rest admired for this boldnesse, seeing hee did first enter into the gates opened by Apollodorus, saith Pliny Lib. xxxiiii cap. 7., and brought the pencill, after it durst now doe something, to a great glory. Of the boldnesse of this excellent Artificer, see Lucian in his little treatise intituled Zeuxis. Dinocrates hath also given us a notable example of confidence, which, God willing, shall be related in our Catalogue. It was then very well avouched by Melanthius the Painter, in his books written of the Art of painting, that it is not amisse there should be perceived some kinde of selfe-liking & hardnesse in the works of excellent Artificers. See Laërt. lib. iv, in Polemone. There is a Theseus done by Euphranor, of whom he sayd, that Parrhasius his Theseus was fed with roses, but that his Theseus was fed with flesh. See Pliny, lib. xxxv. cap. [Page 192] 11. So did then the Antients boldly follow the motions of their stirred spirit; where as we on the contrary, as if now all were perfect dare not bring forth any thing, sayth Quinti­lian, Li. viii. O­rat. Instit. cap. 6. yea we suffer also many things invented by the Antients to decay.

§ 2. Much then doth that excellencie of spirit availe, that will not suffer it selfe to be daunted by the authoritie of them that are like to censure our worke. For as the con­trarie vice of a temerarie and arrogant confidence is verie much to be detested; so is it not possible that art, study, yea advancement it selfe, should helpe any thing, without a di­screet and constant confidence; even as an unwarlike cow­ard shall not be much the better, though you furnïsh him with all manner of exquisit armor. We are therefore above all things to avoid this preposterous shamefastnesse, which is nothing else but a certaine kinde of feare, sayth Quintili­an, Li. xii. orat. Instit. ca. 5. drawing backe our minde from those things that are to be done; whereupon followeth most commonly confusion, and loa­thing of what we have already begun: so that no body doubteth to referre that passion among the number of vices, that maketh us ashamed of doing well. I am almost loth to say it, because it may be mistaken, that shame fastnesse is a vice, but a lovely one, yea such a one as doth most easily ingender vertues: shee doth in the mean time great hurt, causing all that is good in our wits and studies, for want of publishing, to be consumed by the rust of too much secrecie. Howsoeuer, confidence is the best way to a­mend this shamefastnesse: and though a man bee nevr so shame­faced, yet may he support himselfe by the helpe of a good consci­ence, if he be but privy unto himselfe that hee wanteth no art. Although a forward boldnesse be all in all, yet may not the Artificer be so secure as not to understand the danger, pro­vided that it bee an understanding of the worke, and no [Page 193] feare; he may be moved with it, though hee must not yeeld and fall downe under it. For how great danger is there in this worke, wherein wee are very often deceived by a shew of goodnesse? Whosoever doth affect smooth things, saith Ho­race De Arte Poet., wanteth sinewes and spirit for the most part. Hee that professeth great things is very often puffed up. He that wil bee too secure, and standeth alwayes in feare of a storme, useth to creepe along the shore. The very shunning of vice, when it wan­teth art, leadeth us unto vice.

We are also lead into errour by the great multitude of them that judge amisse, seeing unskilfull artificers doe al­wayes in their opinion paint with more force. And it is ever seene, that the unlearned do beleeve those things to be of greater force, which want art: even as they use to think it a matter of greater strength to breake up, than to open; to teare asunder, than to unty; to draw, than to leade. They doe most frequently judge also, that there is more greatnes in rude things, than in such things as are polished: yea, that there is more copiousnesse in things wildely scattered, than in things well and orderly digested. As many then as are best experienced in thse arts, doe most of all feare the diffi­cultie of the work, the severall events of the Art, the doubt­full and uncertaine expectation of men. It is not safe to do any thing foolishly before the face of the world, when wee begin to try the hope of a durable name: neither is it a small matter to undergoe the censure of the whole world: so doth an invited guest also expect a great deale better entertaine­ment, than one that commeth of his own motion suddenly upon us. Such as are provoked, judge more nicely: neither will they be satisfied with meere allurements, and a kind of pleasing noveltie, where they do look for the true force of Art. It falleth out very often also, that we spy the vices [Page 194] sooner in the workes of others, than their vertues: and whatsoever doth justly offend the spectator, useth also to extinguish the glory of praise-worthy things: in these arts chiefely, which are not so much for necessarie use, as a free recreation of the minde, how nicely doe men censure. As in a most pleasing banquet, a confused harmony, grosse ointments, and Poppy with honey of Sardus do offend us, sayth Horace De arte Poeticâ., because the feast might be very well without them; so is it with Poëmes, which being invented to delight and recreate the mind, are esteemed most base if they doe but swarve a little aside from that height of grace they should have. What Horace saith here of Poëts, may also be applied to painters and statuaries, see­ing their industry doth intend nothing else but the recrea­tion of our eyes, as Max. Tyrius speaketh, Dissertat. 5.

§ 3. An artificer therefore is to take care, that hee doe not onely give them content, who must of necessity con­tent themselves with his worke: but that he may also seem admirable unto them, which may judge freely of what hee doth. It is not enough an artificer should paint well after his owne liking, but after the liking of accurate and judici­ous spectators; neither may hee thinke himselfe to have painted well, unlesse skilfull men thinke him to have done so. Whatsoever is to be dedicated unto posteritie, and to remaine for an example unto others, had need be neat, po­lished, and made according to the true rule and law of art; because it is likely to come into the hands of skilfull censu­rers, and such as are artificers shall judge of his art. Whoso­ever therefore is not able to make workes worthy of the eyes of men, nor to deserve the name of an Artificer, & yet is not touched with that reverend respect due to the art he defileth, though he study never so much to decline infamy, may justly be esteemed impudent: seeing wee are to shun the [Page 195] name of impudence, sayth Tully Li. i. de ora­tore., not by shewing our selves to he ashamed, but by not doing those things we may bee iustly asha­med of. We are therefore to use here so much moderation, as not to lay over-hastily aside all shame, and to publish our raw and unripe studies, saith Quintilian Li. xii. orat. Instit. cap. 6.; for by thus doing, there is ingendred in us a contempt of the worke, wee doe lay the grounds of impudence, and (which is every where most pernici­ous) a foole-hardy confidence preventeth our strength. Neither ought we to delay our first triall till wee wax old, for feare en­creaseth daily, and what we are to attempt seemeth stil to grow harder and more difficult, and it groweth too late to beginne, whilest we lose time in deliberating when to begin. It behooveth us therefore to bring forth the greene and sweet-fruit of our stu­dies, whilest pardon, hope, and favour readily attend us: neither doth it mis-become us to attempt something boldly, seeing age may supply what there is wanting in the work; and if any thing seemeth to be painted somwhat youthfully, it is esteemed to pro­ceed out of a promising forwardnesse of our naturall inclinati­on. A youth therefore in my opinion, that doth as yet rely upon his tender strength, is to begin with an easie and pleasing argu­ment, even as dog-whelps are fleshed with a more gentle prey of wilde beasts: neither is he from this beginning to continue his labour and to harden his wit, which is rather to be cherished. So shall be best overcome the feare of beginning, whilest it is easier for him to adventure; and yet shall this facilitie of daring not bring him to a contempt of the worke. Let him for all that, at the first follow the steps of a wary leader, till he find it safe to resolve with Lysippus, unto a further boldnesse upon oc­casion of Eupompus his answer, as we have related the same in the third chapter of this booke, § 3.


ALthough Artificers might justly seeme to bee emboldened by the successe of Art, yet did they never runne on with such a confident rashnesse, as to forget the care due unto these Arts. It is a good saying of Fabius Maxi­mus Apud Livi­um lib. xxii ab v. c., All things shall bee sure and cleare unto him that doth not make too much haste: rashnesse is improvident and blinde. An artificer therefore cannot be without diligence, a great help of a mean wit also, sayth Seneca the Rhetorician In prooemio libri Tertii Controvers.. Metrocles was wont to say, That houses and such like things were to be bought with silver, but that learning could not bee had without the expence of time and care Apud Laer­tium lib. vi.. Pamphilus his schoole, as we have shewed before out of Pliny, did not dis­misse the disciples, unlesse they had passed their ten years in an orderly course of learning. This was a most laudable cu­stom, seeing advancement doth most of all consist in diligence, saith Quintilian Li. II. orat. Instit. cap. 7.. Neither did the Ancients when they came forth out of the shadow of the schooles to the pub­lique light, instantly forsake that diligence used about the first beginnings of Art; but they did rather resolve to fol­low with a constant perseverance, what they had begunne with a studious industry. Nicias his diligence hath beene mentioned before out of Plutarch. Protogenes when hee was about the picture of Jalysus, is said to have lived by moist­ned lupines, as being able to satisfie hunger and thirst both at once; lest he should dull his sences too much with the sweetnesse [Page 197] of meat. He laid his colours foure times over this picture, for a de­fence against all injuries and age; that the lowermost colour might succeed when the uppermost should faile. Pliny xxxv. 10. Apel­les had this custome, saith Pliny in the same place, that hee ne­ver would suffer himselfe to be so much imployed a whole day, but that he remembred ever to exercise the art by drawing of a line: and this custome of his became a common proverbe. Yea, we may learn out of the following words also, that Apelles by the meanes of this diligence put downe Protogenes in that most famous strife of drawing subtill lines. It is pretty, what fell out between Protogenes and Apelles, saith Pliny. Protogenes did live at Rhodes; whither when Apelles was come, desirous to know the workes of him whom he knew onely by fame, he made haste to goe to his shop. Protogenes himselfe was absent, but an old woman kept a large boord, alreadie fitted upon the Asse or scaffold, to have something drawne upon it. The old woman having answered, that Protogenes was gone forth, asked withall, whom shee should say had looked for him. Tell him, said Apelles, that this is the man that sought him: and taking a pencill, hee drew an ex­ceeding thinne line with one or other colour upon the boord. The old woman at Protogenes his returne shewed him instantly what was done. And it is reported that the artificer, having considered the finenesse of the line, did forthwith professe himselfe to know that Apelles was come; seeing hee held it impossible that such an abso­lute work should be done by any body else. It is added also, that Pro­togenes drew a thinner line with another colour over the said line, bidding the old woman at his going forth, that she should shew this unto him that had asked for him and tell him that this was the man he did looke for. It fellout so. Apelles returneth: but being asha­med to be overcome, he divided the lines with a third colour, not leaving an further place for subtiltie. Whereupon Protogenes confessing himselfe overcome, did hastily runne to the haven, see­king [Page 198] the stranger: this same boord was left unto the following ages without any change, to the astonishment of all men, but of Artificers chiefly. Wee have greedily viewed it before the first firing of Caesar his house in the pallace, where it perished, con­taining in a more spacious widenesse nothing else, but such lines as could hardly be discerned by the eye: so that this boord among the brave works of many Artificers did seeme to be emp­tie, alluring the spectators therefore and being indeed more no­ble then any other worke. I know well enough that many will not understand these words of Plinie after that plaine mea­ning the alledged place urgeth; yet doe they not perswade us to take these words otherwise, then of the strife of lines most subtilly drawne with a light and gentle hand. But of this, God willing, some where else: seeing it is better wee should pursue our intent, by comparing that carefull dili­gence of the ancients with the carelesse negligence of these our times.

§ 2. And first we thinke good not to hinder the per­swasion of them who esteeme our inbred abilities to be a­lone sufficient to make us Artificers: let them onely give way to our labours, seeing nothing in our opinion can be perfect, but when Nature is holpen by care Quint. orat. instit. xi, 3.. Neither can we conceive it otherwise; because we doe find that among so many rare wits none have anciently obtained the highest fame of Art, but such as not contenting themselves to sa­lute the schooles of Painters afarre off, and to spend a very small time of apprentiship in them, thought it rather need­full to be a great while a learning what they would after­wards teach others, least they should be forced to learne a­ny thing at the time of teaching: so do we likewise perceive that the majestie of these Arts was troden under foot, as soone as the love of too much ease made men neglect the [Page 199] care due unto the first principles of Art. Such things as doe grow up without any foundation, sayth Seneca Lib. I. de Irâ, cap. ultimo., are subject un­to ruine: it is therefore a grosse error, when many by a false perswasion of their teachers go about to sever this Art from the elegancy of a more grave and severe kinde of learning; as if the whole exercise of Art did chiefly consist in an easie and readie practise without any further care: Such as make great haste, sayth Quintilian Lib. IV. o­rat. instit. cap. 5., must needs thinke slightly of e­very thing that is to be done before they come to what is last. Hence it is that they forsake things indeed necessary for the love of things seeming more specious; yea they neglect and loath such great helps of Art, as cannot be wanted; not loo­king for any commendation of their wit from things farre remote from ostentation, seeing the tops of high buildings are noted, the foundations are hid, sayth Quintilian In prooemio libri Primi.. Besides these there are others of a more lazie arrogance, despising all precepts of Art after they have spent but a little time in the schooles of Painters, and seeking to gaine authoritie by the contempt of them that studie to bring to these Arts not their hand onely, but all such things also as may conduce to Art. These are they that doe small things with a great deale of ease, sayth Quintilian Lib. I. orat. instit. cap. 3., and being thus emboldened, they shew instantly whatsoever they know themselves able to doe; though they can doe nothing, but what is neere at hand: they doe not much, but quickly: there wanteth true force in their worke, seeing it hath not taken a deepe root; even as seeds cast upon the upper most ground doe spring up more readily, and like blasted eares of corne make a shew of ripenesse before harvest. These things compared with their yeares, are pleasing at the first; but the advancement afterwards being at a stay, the admiration al­so doth decrease.

§ 3. Whosoever therefore desireth a more compleat and [Page 200] absolute knowledge of these Arts, must by all means beleeve that all such things doe belong unto his care, which are able to perfit an Artificer; and that it is not possible to attaine to the height of any thing, but by the means of some fore­running beginnings; yea that he may not looke for grea­ter matters, unlesse he first stoope downe to the lesser. Stu­dies have also their infancie, sayth Quintilian Lib. I. orat. instit. cap. 1.: and as the education of such bodies, as at any time shall be the stron­gest, beginneth with milke and cradle; even so doth he which may in time be a most consummat Artificer, hang a great while about the first lines, standing in need of a hand to lead his hand, untill he use himselfe a little to the right stroke: as it is impossible to attaine to the height of any thing, but by some beginnings; so doe the first things, when the worke goeth on, seeme to be the least, sayth Quintilian Lib. X. o­rat. instit. cap. 1.: the height of all Arts, as of trees, delighteth us very much; so do not the roots: and yet can there be no height without the roots, sayth Tullie De Perfecto oratore.: unexperienced children doe first apprehend the figure and name of letters, sayth Manilius Lib. II. Astron., their use is afterwards taught them by the making up of syllables; words follow; the force of things and the use of Art doth lastly arise out of them: it maketh much for our maine end to have learned the first rudiments in order: yea the preposterous labour of over-hastened precepts shall come to nothing, unlesse learning be grounded upon his proper ele­ments. The ancients therefore not despising such small things (although in studies nothing may be counted small, that doth advance our principall intent) have made these Arts great; rather contenting themselves with a slow then with an uncertaine event.

§ 4. How much doe the customes of our young men at this time differ from the sayd practise of the ancients? for who is there among many thousands that confessing himselfe in­feriour [Page 201] giveth place to the age or authoritie of a better Master? sayth the younger Plinie Lib. viii. E­pist. 23., they are wise at one instant; they are forthwith filled with all knowledge; they stand in awe of no bodie; they imitate no bodie; they need not take example by any bodie, seeing they are an example unto themselves. These Arts were in times past studied with much respect; but now, af­ter that wee have made the greatest point of Art our first entrance into the Art, all goe to it without any reason or modestie; wholesome counsell is generally rejected; we doe not suffer our selves to be led orderly into the Art, but we doe rush in, having once broke the barres of shame and re­verence: you can hardly meet with any one that aspireth to the consummation of this most magnificent Art by tra­cing the beaten path of necessary precepts held by the anci­ents, neither will any one fit himselfe to greater things by giving a document of himselfe in lesser matters, but all doe by an overthwart consent forsake the most profitable dili­gence in smaller things; and whilest they meane to step from the lowest to the highest, neglecting whatsoever is in the middest, the hope of their labour is lost for want of care: there was never any brave thing brought to passe by neg­ligence, sayth Max. Tyrius Dissert. xxxiv.: as Nature will not have us sweat for small things, sayth Libanius In Progym., so doth shee not reward our sloathfulnesse with great matters. Seeing then that almost all are in this errour, yet should wee conceive a better hope of the Art, if we thought that any Students could be recalled; whereas now the case seemeth rather to be desperate, their senses being so much possessed with the present joy, that they are loath to admit any thing unto their eyes or eares whereby this unprovident joy of theirs might be lessened: they doe like very well of the course alreadie taken, sayth Quin­tilian Lib. iii. orat. Instit. ca. 1., neither is it easie to divert them from the perswasions [Page 202] drunk in whilest they were children; because every one thinketh it better to have learned alreadie, then to learne. To let them therefore alone, wee doe esteeme that he is most likely to come neerest unto perfection, who taketh at the first grea­ter care how to paint well, then fast: whosoever on the con­trary studieth more to have done painting, then to paint, shall come farre short of his hope; neither shall he receive any other fruit of his mountebank-like braverie, but an idle praise of blockish spectators, a presumptuous perswasion of his owne abilitie, the contempt of so venerable an Art, a shamelesse boldnesse, and a custome of doing amisse. When Agatharcuus the Painter did vaunt himselfe in the presence of Zeuxis, sayth Plutarch In Pericle., for making all manner of pictures most speedily and easily; But I, answered Zeuxis, am a good while about it: for as this nimblenesse and quicknesse of hand doth not leave in the worke any durable weight of Art or accu­ratnesse of beautie; so doth the time bestowed upon the making render a certaine force tending to the preservation of the work. Themistius likewise speaking of Phidias, although Phidias, sayth he Orat. adeum qui postulave­rat ut ex tem­pore sermonem haberet., was skilfull enough to make in gold and in ivorie the true shape of God or man, yet did he require sufficient time and leisure to the work: so is he also reported to have spent much time about the pantoffle of the Goddesse Minerva. Apelles was of the same minde: for when a foolish Painter shewed him a picture which he did boast to have made up suddenly; I see it well enough, sayd Appelles, and wonder very much why you did paint no more such pictures in that space of time: see Plutarch de Educandis liberis.

§ 5. Seeing then that great Masters themselves would not be too quicke in their workes, it followeth much more that our first rudiments may not be too hastily passed over: a painfull industry is all in all, when wee first begin: let us [Page 203] ripely consider what Artificers deserve most to be imitated and expressed; least, having made an ill choice, wee should at the first get an ill habit: but of this have wee handled at large lib. I, cap. 3. Our studious endeavours must after­wards by little and little venture abroad, and wee are to as­sure our selves of the good successe of our labours by a pub­like triall. All Arts gaine very much by a continuall practise and daily exercise, sayth Vegetius De Re milit. lib. III. cap. 10.; for it is impossible that a­ny one should apprehend so many different and profound things, sayth Quintilian, unlesse upon knowledge there follow medita­tion, upon meditation abilitie, upon abilitie force: and it is ga­thered out of these things that there is but one and the same way of conceiving what we are to expresse, and expressing what we have conceived. The want of this practise bringeth very often to passe that many a one is frighted, when he cometh to a publike triall; he looketh still backe after the shade of his private exercises, finding his eyes dazeled at the unwonted light: severe censurers trouble him with their suspended silence; enviers with their importunate noise; favourers with their immoderate applauses; and when he perceiveth that no faults can be hid, his confident boldnesse being tur­ned to a pensive sollicitude disquieteth him very much. E­ven as in all other disciplines bare precepts profit very lit­tle, not being seconded by assiduitie of exercise; so doth doctrine effect very little in these Arts of imitation, unlesse we doe seriously practise and seasonably publish the much studied Arts: neither can private studies advance us so much, but that there is ever some peculiar profit of publish­ing: and use without doctrine (if you doe part them) is likely to doe more, then doctrine without use, sayth Quintilian lib. xij, orat. instit. cap. 6.

§ 6. All helps being outwardly applyed, wee shall finde [Page 204] that a frequent and continuall exercise, as it is most labori­ous, so is it most profitable: seeing nature doth beginne, utilitie doth advance, exercise doth accomplish these Arts. Protagoras sayth Apud Stobae­um Serm. de Disciplinâ & eruditio­ne., that Art is nothing without exercise, nei­ther that exercise is any thing without Art. What use is there of Phidias his Art, if he doe not applie it to ivorie and gold? sayth Max. Tyrius Dissert. V.. It profiteth very little, sayth Theosophi­sta Progymn. cap. 1., that such as meane to paint should consider the workes of Protogenes, Apelles, Antiphilus, unlesse they themselves al­so fall to worke. Nature certainly would never give way, that any thing should grow great upon a sudden, yea shee doth observe it in the common course of generation, that the greatest creatures should be longest of all abreeding; and as the ground thoroughly stirred is most apt to beare and to augment hearbs, so doth a well grounded advance­ment bring forth the fruit of studies after a more plenteous, and keepe them after a more trustie manner Quintil. lib. x, cap. 3.. Art is able to shew the way to all them, who of their owne accord are given to it; and yet doth she enough, when shee propoun­deth her store; wee must know what use to make of the things propounded Quint. lib. vii, cap. ultimo.. Diligent exercise howsoever will procure us so much strength, as may be able to maintaine the dignitie of Art; provided onely that our exercise be not too rash and forward at the first: seeing in our beginnings we must once for all resolve of this, yea wee may not rest till we have obtained it, that we do well; assuring our selves that the custome of doing well, shall bring us to a readie quicknesse: assiduitie of practice bringeth by little and little to passe, that every thing doth both shew and offer it selfe with more ease; yea that all things, as in a well ordered fa­milie, are at command. To be short: By doing quickly, wee shall never learne to doe well; but by doing well, it is [Page 205] more likely wee shall learne to doe quickly. Quintil. lib. x, cap. 3.

§ 7. Wee have sayd enough concerning them who by a temerarie rashnesse banish all care: it is left we should also speake something of those, whose over-curious care beareth the blame of slownesse. For when I undertooke to stop the Students of these Arts in their temerarie forwardnesse, my meaning was not to tie them to the unfortunate toile of finding fault with every thing done alreadie; seeing it is im­possible that they should ever bring this great and mightie Art to an end, who doe continually stay and stagger about every little experiment. Artificers therefore must take great care, least their care be perceived; principally ayming at this, that an excellent argument may be expressed excel­lently; for he doth questionlesse paint well enough, whose worke answereth the weightinesse of the matter. Whatsoever is perfect in his owne kinde, sayth Quintilian Lib. VIII, cap. 3., is well enough. It is in the meane time not onely tolerable but commenda­ble also, and it addeth a singular grace to the worke, that there should sometimes appeare a certaine kinde of neglect in most excellent Pictures: a little sourenesse is otherwhiles pleasing in exquisite meats; and it doth not misbecome great wealth, to see something in it here and there carelesly scattered and neglected. Some for all this doe never cease troubling of themselves; they suspect every invention; they dwell upon every line; and having met with what is best, yet doe they seeke something better: whereas they have more reason to consider, that it is a naughtie kinde of affe­ctation to desire any thing better then what is sufficiently good, when our wit wanteth judgement, and suffereth it selfe to be carried away by a meere shew of goodnesse: there is in the whole Art no vice more dangerous; seeing [Page 206] other vices, as Quintilian speaketh Lib. VIII. cap. 3., are loathed, but this desired. So sayth the same grave another againe Lib. X. cap. 3., There are some that ne­ver do content themselves, they will change every thing, and make it otherwise than it was conceived at the first. Others are mistrust­full, and do deserve very ill of their owne wits; esteeming it dili­gence, to make the worke harder unto themselves. Neither is it easie to say, whether those off end more that love all they doe, or that love nothing. For generous Youths also do very often spend their spirits with too much labour, and fal into acertaine kinde of dulnesse by too great a desire of doing well. The case standeth thus: We must doe our best, and yet according to our abilitie, seeing it is study, and not indignation that doth advance us. Wherefore if the winde ferveth, we are to make saile, and we are sometimes also to follow our stirred passions, in which heate doth for the most part more than diligence. Provided onely, That this indulgence doe not deceive us: For it is most naturall unto us, to love every thing wee doe, whilest it is a doing.

§ 8. Wherefore besides that same slownesse urged a little before, and besides that stay our hand giveth us, not being able in the most forward exercise of designing, to overtake the quicknesse of our minde, we shall doe well to breath our selves now and then purposely, & to review our suspected forwardnesse, by unbending the intention of our thoughts. For as we shall by this meanes bee more able to make a handsome connexion of things, so shall wee likewise avoid that wearinesse that might hinder our further dili­gence: for the wearinesse of our minde, though it be not so apparant at the first, is no lesse tiresome than the wearinesse of our body, weakening our mind not for the present one­ly, but also for the time to come. The first heate also brought to the work, when it waxeth cooler, receiveth new strength, and is revived by such a delay; even as we see, that [Page 207] they who leape for strife use to go backe a great way, and fetch a runne, to lift and throw themselves with more force over the intended space: by putting backe our arme wee throw the further forward, and the more we draw the shaft backe, we shoot farther and with greater strength Quin. lib. x, cap. 3.. They erre also, but in a different kinde, who following their first heate, doe with a full speed runne through the whole mat­ter, pleasing themselves in an extemporal delineation. These are forced to go over again, what they have hastily brought forth; but whilest they mend the errours of some parts, the first levitie remaineth in the things unadvisedly heaped up; the whole composition is never a whit the better for it. It were then much better, according to Quintilian his opini­on Lib. X, cap. 3., sooner to have taken care, and so to frame the work at the first beginning, that it need trimming onely, without altering the designe of the whole worke.

§ 9. Next unto this relaxation shall follow the profi­table care of a most strict emendation; seeing the weighti­nesle of our work is by this meanes maintained, and the for­ward facilitie of our first conceits is made to take deeper root. Even as husbandmen prune the roots that lie shallow­est, that the lowermost might fasten deeper. The first de­signes of art, sayth Plutarch Sympos. pro­blem. II, 3., are grosse and imperfect; but every part receiveth afterwards a more particular perfection. Which caused Polycletus to say, That the worke is then hardest when it commeth to the naile. I may not omit the words of Favorinus the Philosopher, who sayd Apud. Agel. lib. XVII. noct. A tic. cap. 10., Virgils friends re­ported that he was wont to say of himself, that he brought forth his verses after the manner of Beares, which bring forth their young ones without shape or beauty, and after­wards by licking, fashion what they have brought forth; that such were the new births of his wit, rude and imperfect [Page 208] to looke on, untill he by handling and polishing gave them perfect lineaments. Emendation therefore being the onely way to perfection, it hath bin sayd upon very good ground that the pencil doth sometimes help the art, as well by rub­bing out what was painted, as by painting. There belongeth to this worke, sayth Quintilian Lib. x, ca. 4., To adde, to detract, to change. To adde or detract, requireth lesse labour and iudge­ment; but to allay those things that swell, to raise those things that sinke, to tie close those things that flow luxuriously, to di­gest things that are without order, to compose things that are loosed, to restraine things that are insolent, requireth double paines: for those things are to be condemned which did please, and what we thought not of is to bee invented. Now it is no doubt, but that the best way for emendation is to lay by the de­signe for a time, till it may seem unto us a new or another mans invention: lest our owne, like new births, please us too much. Certainly so it is, our mindes being caried away by the cur­rant streame of a ready invention, use to judge then more readily and warily, when our running thoughts being staid, give us time to consider what we have to doe. Hence it is that Painters, who after a reasonable pause, returne to their discontinued workes as meere spectators, doe more advance the art, than others that doe not care what haste they make to finish the worke. Those painters do very well, saith Plu­tarch De cohiben­dâ irâ., who looke upon their workes before they accomplish them, after some delay; seeing they do renew their iudgements, by turning their eyes now and then off from the worke. It is on­ly requred here, this respite be not too long; because it is most certaine, that nothing is easily resumed after a great discontinuance. For who doth not know, that all arts and ar­tificers receiue the greatest benefit by use, sayth Sidonius Lib. IX, Epist. 12., and that upon the neglect of usuall employments our armes waxe [Page 209] heavy in our bodies, and our wits grow dull in the Arts? From whence it ariseth also, that a bow doth withstand our hand, an Oxe doth withstand the yoke, and a horse doth withstand the bri­dle, when they are late or very seldome taken in hand.

§ 10. Though wee have as yet somewhat diffusedly commended a slow and wary care unto the diligent Stu­dents of art, yet may every one follow a shorter way to put himselfe in minde of this dutie; if Augustus the Emperour his motto Festina lentè sound daily in his eares: and as we have alreadie spoken of diverse things whereby the warie care of a leisurely haste is quite over-throwne, so may wee not forget to mention what hurt the art receiveth by them who not contenting themselves with an ordinary haste, have studied to finde out compendious wayes of painting. When Arbiter doth reckon up the Arts lost by the careles­nesse of a most lazie age, a magnificent and (to speake so) a chaste style, sayth he In Satyrico., is neither stained nor puffed up, but it waxeth greater by a naturall beautie: that windie and unmea­surable babbling was not long since brought to Athens out of Asia, and having blasted the hopefull spirits of young men as with a pestilent starre, the rule of eloquence being once corrup­ted was strooke dumbe; yea there did not so much as one Poëme appeare of a wholesome colour; nothing could attaine to matu­ritie of age, seeing all Arts were fed as it were with the same meat. Picture also had no better end, after the boldnesse of the Aegyptians found out a compendious way to so great an Art. Wee see then how much these, excellent Arts have beene wronged by them that studied compendiousnesse, although it be hard to explaine what manner of compendiousnesse Petronius speaketh of: seeing it cannot be understood of that manner of writing used by the ancient Aegyptians, and mentioned in this Second booke cap. viii. § 2. Neither can [Page 210] it be understood of another way of painting or rather stai­ning cloathes, used by the Aegyptians. Cloathes are also painted in Aegypt, sayth Plinie Lib. xxxv, Sub finem copitis un­decimi., after a rare and strange way: they take white vailes, and having rubbed and chafed them very much, they besmeare them, not with colours, but with some juy­ces apt to drinke colours: which appeareth not in the vailes af­ter it is done: but being dipped in a vatte of seething dye, they are after a little while taken forth all painted. The wonder is, that though there is but one colour in the cauldron, there are di­verse made out of it in the cloathe, the colour altering according to the qualitie of the juyce that receiveth it: neither can it be washed out afterwards: so the cauldron, which should question­lesse confound the colours, if it did receive them painted, doth digest them out of one colour, and painteth the vaile whilest it is a boiling: and the singed cloathes are stronger, then if they were not boiled at all But I rather thinke that the Aegyptians had some other abridgement of painting, unknowne to us: for nothing could hinder them to find out a short way of pain­ting as well as Philoxenus Eretrius a scholar of the most swift painter Nicomachus: seeing this Philoxenus, as Plinie repor­teth Lib. xxxv, cap. 10., having followed the swiftnesse of his Master, did invent certaine shorter and more compendious wayes of painting.


THe former care did not as yet shew it selfe more in the ancient Artificers, when by a praise­worthy Ingenuitie they called both upon Artists and Idiots, desirous that all men should examine and censure the worke in hand. Hesiodus his observation is well expressed by Minu­cius: [Page 211] I have often heard, sayth Minucius Apud Livi­um lib. xxii, ab v. c., that he is the best man, that can advise himselfe what is fit to be done; and that he is in the next ranke of goodnesse, that is content to receive good advice; but that on the contrarie side, whosoever can nei­ther advise himselfe, nor will be directed by the advice of others, is of a very ill nature. The naturalist Heraclitus presseth this point somewhat neerer, and applieth it to the liberall scien­ces, when he sayth Apud Ma­ximum Ser. xxxiv. that it is a great hinderance of our ad­vancement if a man begin to have a good conceit of him­selfe. I am of opinion, sayth Seneca De Tran­quanimi, cap. 1., that many should have attained unto wisedome, if they had not conceived themselves to be wise alreadie: see also Arriani Epict. lib. II, cap. 17. No man is able to passe through the secrets of Art, sayth Fulgen­tius De Virgili­anâ conti­nentiâ., unlesse he first overcome the pompe of vaine glorie: see­ing the appetite of an idle praise doth never search out the truth, but taketh all to it selfe whatsoever is offered by way of flattery. Contrition extinguisheth all manner of presumption: and for this reason is the Goddesse of wisedome called Tritonia: because all contrition breedeth wisdome: and verily, none can be worse than those who tickle themselves with a false perswasion of Art, though they are not very much past the first lines: for scorning to give way to them that are more skilfull, they betray their owne foolishnesse by the securitie of a wrong­fully usurped authoritie. The ancients were quite of ano­ther minde, they followed another way. Painters, and such as make statues, yea Poëts also; sayth Tullie Lib. I, de Off., will have their worke considered of the multitude; to the end it might he men­ded, in what they see reprehended by many: they search therefore most diligently by themselves and with others what faults there are committed in the worke. The younger Plinie urgeth the same upon another occasion, nothing can satisfie my care, sayth he Lib. VII, Epist. 17., I thinke still how great a matter it is to publish a­ny [Page 212] thing: neither can I perswade my selfe otherwise, but that we are to peruse often and with many, what wee wish might please all men and alwayes.

§ 2. Besides those there is another sort of men, who, though they doe not out of a presumptuous arrogance re­ject this Ingenuous care of mending their workes, yet doe they decline it out of a timorous bashfulnesse; they want courage and constancy to provoke & to exspect the judge­ment of the world. A naughtie shame, sayth Horace Lib. I, epist. 16., doth conceale the unhealed soares of fooles: neither is it without reason that the Poët brandeth them, that doe so, with the name of fooles; seeing every vice is nurtured and quickened by hiding of it, sayth Virgil Lib. III. Georg.. As many therefore as by smoo­thering of their imperfections will not encrease their faults and shame both at once, must first studie to finde out and to amend of themselves what is amisse: which if they de­spire to doe, let them remember at least that there is excee­ding great wisdome in a confessed ignorance, as Minutius Felix speaketh In Octavis.: and that ordinarily, according to M. Porcius Cato his saying Apud. Livi­um li. xxxiv ab v. c., Such as are ashamed without cause, shall not be a­shamed when there is cause. But of this same preposterous shame something is sayd alreadie, cap. x, § 2. of this second Booke.

§ 3. All of us naturally are too much in love with our owne workes, and selfe-love maketh that seeme gorgeous unto us wherein we our selves be Actors. I know not how e­very man maketh very much of his owne doings. So it is: you love your owne, and I love mine, sayth Tullie lib. v. Tusc. quaest. Wee looke upon domesticke things after a familiar manner, sayth Seneca De Tran­quanimi, cap. 1., and favour doth then most of all hinder our judgement: neither may you thinke otherwise, but that wee are sooner overthrowne by our owne flattery, then by the flattery of [Page 213] others. This was understood by those that were to dedicate the statues of Amazons in the temple of Diana at Ephesus; for when they were to dedicate them there, they resolved to choose that piece of worke that should be accounted the best by the judgement of all the chiefe workmen there, which appeared to them to be that, that every one commen­ded to be the best next his owne. Plin. xxxiv, 8. Seeing then it is naturall to all men to be too much in love with what is their owne, there is great cause why wee should shake off this importunate presumption that will not give us leave to looke impartially upon our owne workes. The ancient Artificers therefore, that have been and are as yet most famous, did relie more upon the judgement of other Artists, then upon their owne liking. So doth Synesius Epist. primâ re­port that Lysippus made use of Apelles, and Apelles likewise made use of Lysippus. Praxiteles also being asked which of his marble-workes he did like best, answered, Those that Nicias hath put his hand to: see Plinie xxxv, 11.

§ 4. Nether did they content themselves with Artificers alone, but they did moreover desire a confluxe of envious and favourable spectators, yea of all sorts of men, suffering their workes indifferently to be censured by them all: see the younger Plinie lib. VII, epist. 17. It is reported, sayth Lucian Pro Imagi­nib., that Phidias, when he made Jupiter for the Eleans, and shewed it the first time, stood behinde the doore listening what was commended and discommended in his worke: one found fault with the grossenesse of the nose: another with the length of the face: a third had something else to say: and when all the spectators were gone, he retired himselfe againe to mend the worke according to what was liked by the greater part: for he did not thinke the advice of such a multitude to be a small matter, esteeming that so many saw many things better then he [Page 214] alone; though he could not but remember himselfe to be Phidi­as. Observe here in the meane while, that, when they gave unto abject and contemptible men such power over their workes, it was not because they hoped to learne something by them that might advance the perfection of Art, seeing it is a most idle thing, sayth Tullie Lib. V. Tus­cul. quaest. vi­de quoque Ae­lianum lib. ii, var. hist. cap. 1 & 6., to exspect great matters from an assembly of those, whom we contemne one by one as han­dy-crafts-men and barbarians. Polycletus, as we reade in Ae­lian, tooke a fine course to make vulgar wittes understand themselves, shewing unto them by a lively example that they were more likely to spoile then to helpe the Art, if an Artificer should follow their judgement in all things: see Aelianus var. hist. lib. xiv, cap. 8. The Artificers therefore did not admit their directions generally in every thing, but they followed their motions onely in such things as did be­long to their profession. When Apelles had made any workes, sayth Plinie Lib. xxxv, cap. 10., he exposeth them in a place, where all that passed by might see them: hiding himselfe in the meane time behinde the picture, to hearken what faults were noted in his worke; preferring the common people, a most diligent Judge, before his owne judgement: and he is reported to have mended his worke upon the censure of a Shoo-maker, who blamed the Artificer for having made fewer latchets in the inside of one of the pan­toffles then of the other. The Shoo-maker finding the worke the next day mended according to his advertisement, grew proud and began to find fault with the legge also. Whereupon Apelles could not containe himselfe any longer, but looking forth from behinde the picture, bid the Shoo-maker not meddle beyond the pantoffle: which saying of his became afterwards a Proverbe.


THe publike felicitie of times must needs be put in among the causes of the advancement of these Arts, seeing it cannot be conceived how the heat of Emulation, the desire of glory, the diligent care, and a great many more of the causes alledged could doe any good without this Felicitie of times: neither doe wee hold that the blisse­fulnesse of the ancient times did principally consist in that, that the wittes of men in those times were more quicke and fertile then now they are; though some would have it so: it is not to be doubted, sayth Seneca Epistolâ 90., but that the world not yet decayed brought forth better things, and that men were then high-spirited, as being a fresh of-spring of the Gods. Sidonius Apollinaris urgeth the same after a more peremptory man­ner; the governour of times, sayth he Lib. VIII, ep. 6., seemeth to have be­stowed the vertues of Arts most of all upon the ancient genera­tions; which now having spent their pith and marrow by the age of a decaying world, bring forth very little that may be e­steemed admirable and memorable, and that in some few onely. These words of Seneca and Sidonius are, in our opinion, somewhat too harsh and able to kill the generous hope of emulating the ancients. The words of the Rhodian Em­bassadour are lesse partiall and more comfortable; wee make bold, sayth he Apud Livi­umli. xxxvii ab v. c., to maintaine a pious strife with our ancestors about every good Art and vertue. The younger Plinie is also very resolute in this point; I am one of them, sayth he Lib. VI, ep. 21., that doe admire the ancients, and yet can I not finde in my heart to despise the wits of our age, as some use to doe: for Nature is not so much wearied and worne out, that shee should now bring forth [Page 216] no praise-worthy thing. See also Tacitus lib. iii. Annal. cap. 55. Lactantius de Orig. erroris, cap. 8. Galenus in his Treatise, That a good Phisician must be a Philosopher also. Other Au­thors go some what further, and study to give a reason why some are so apt to embrace that unprofitable opinion of the barrennesse of our age. There is a malicious humour in man­kinde, sayth one Autor dialo­gi de causis cor. eloquen­tiae, cap. 18., by which wee doe alwayes praise things past, and loath things present. Paterculus cometh neerer, when he sayth Lib. II, histor., Naturally we had rather praise things heard of, then seene. Wee entertaine things present, with envie; things absent, with veneration: seeing we doe thinke our selves overwhelmed by the one, and instructed by the other. As wee may therefore upon good ground deny the wits of men to have been bet­ter in old times, so must wee for all this confesse that it was a great happinesse of the said ancient times that vertues did more abound in them then in the latter: for vertues being then more frequent, these Arts were then also more fre­quently used for the rewarding of vertues. Surely, so it is, sayth Plinie Lib. xxxv, cap. 2., Arts were overthrowne by idlenesse: and because there are no images of our mindes, the images of our bodies are also neglected.

§ 2. But to let this complaint alone, though never so just, we do understand here by the Publike felicitie of times nothing else but that stable tranquillitie of an unshaken peace the ancient Artificers enjoyed. Peace is a gracefull mo­ther of good Arts, sayth Cassiodorus Variarum, lib. 1.. Solinus speaking of the peaceable times of the Emperour Augustus; these times were most not able, sayth he Cap. I, Polyhist., seeing weapons ceased, and wits flou­rished in them: least all manner of vertuous workes should lan­guish, the exercise of warre being intermitted. The fatall stirres of Kingdomes and Republikes doe mightily dash that con­stancy of our mindes, whereby Arts are brought to perfe­ction. [Page 217] And how is it possible that any mortall man should follow any intended worke quietly, when besides the pre­sent calamities that afflict us alreadie, there seeme to hang more grievous mis-fortunes over our heads. Beleeve me, sayth Ovid Lib. IV, de Ponto, Eleg. 12., Providence doth first of all for sake wretched men; and their means failing them, they remaine without any feeling or counsell. The secure pleasantnesse of flourishing times doth on the contrary feed and encrease heat of Emulation, and desire of Glory: the strife of a vertuous contention, and the earnest desire of glorie, sayth Tacitus Lib. XV, Annal. cap. 16., are passions inci­dent onely to such men as live in prosperitie. Diodorus Siculus confirmeth this point with a notable example; Xerxes his expedition into Greece, sayth he Lib. XII., by reason of the wonderfull greatnesse of his forces, did mightily terrifie the Grecians, who did thinke themselves of nothing so sure as of an utter ruine and a most miserable slaverie. But when, beyond the exspectation of all men, there was made a fortunate end of the warre, the Greeke Nation being free'd from such a danger, obtained great glorie: yea every one of their Citie, grew so wealthy and rich, that all the world did wonder at such a sudden change of for­tune: for Greece did for some fiftie yeares after that time pro­sper so much, that in those times all good Arts were very much advanced by reason of such plentie of riches; and many most fa­mous Artificers; among whom Phidias was one, did augment the glorious esteeme of those times. It appertaineth also to the Publike felicitie of the times when whole Countries are the better for the mis-fortune of some of their neighbour coun­tries. All manner of disciplines, sayth Athenaeus Sub finem libri Quarti Deipnosoph., were re­newed under Ptolemaeus the seventh King of Aegypt, who was by the inhabitants of Alexandria truely and aptly called Cacer­getes: for he, having cut the throats of many inhabitants of A­lexandria, and having banished a number of them that were [Page 218] bred with his brother, filled all the Cities and Iles with Gram­marians, Philosophers, Geometricians, Musicians, Painters, Schoolmasters, Physicians, and all other kinde of Artificers. These, to supply their wants, taught what they knew, and made many famous and excellent men.


THe private fortune of the Artificers themselves worthily challengeth the last place, seeing the divine gift of a prone and capable nature, the diligent care of parents and Masters, the feare of wholesome lawes, the earnestnesse of emulating, the simplicitie and sweetnesse of these Arts, with all what followeth, doe as yet require the private for­tune of the Artificer: not such a fortune as ayded Protoge­nes, when he was about the picture of his dogge; and Neal­ces, when he was about the picture of his horse; but a For­tune which maketh the Artificer her only dearling, by put­ting him forth and bringing him acquainted with Kings and Princes, that by their means he may obtaine the good opinion of the world. The time wherein every mans vertue sheweth it selfe, is very materiall, sayth the elder Plinie Lib. VII, nat. hist. cap. 28.. For no man hath so excellent a wit as to make himselfe immediate­ly knowne, unlesse he meeteth with matter, occasion, and af­vourable commender, sayth the younger Plin. lib. vi, epist. 23. Although the particular and private fortune of Artificers carrie here a great sway, yet doe wee not thinke that their whole fame dependeth meerely upon Fortune; seeing it is [Page 219] needfull that an Artificer should first open the doore of fame unto himselfe, before he may looke for any prefer­ment. We doe not judge of Statuaries, sayth Socrates Apud Xeno­phontem lib. III Apo­mnem., ma­king a conjecture of them by their owne words; but we beleeve that he shall make the rest well, who formerly hath shewed his skill in some other workes of that nature. Corn. Celsus urgeth the same; No body will have his Picture drawne, sayth he In Epistolà ad C. Julium Callistum., but by an Artificer that is approoved of by good experiments.

§ 2. In those Artificers that were commended for an e­quall force of Art, there did very often appeare an unequall power of Fortune, as Vitruvius prooveth by many instan­ces. Though Artificers, sayth he In praefati­one libri Tertii., make promise and vaunt of their skill, if they have not store of money, if they be not known by the ancient renowne of their shoppes, if they want popular fa­vour and eloquence, the industry of their studies cannot gaine them so much authoritie as to make them be beleeved to know what they professe to know. Wee finde this most of all in ancient Statuaries and Painters; seeing the memory of none of them could be durable, but of such as were graced by commendation, and shewed some outward markes of dignitie. This was the case of Myron, Polycletus, Phydias, Lysippus, and of others that gained a noble fame by means of their Art; seeing they got this credit by working for Kings, great Cities, and noble Citizens. Others on the contrarie which had no lesse industrie, wit, and subtiltie, got no name at all, because they wrought for ignoble and meane Citizens; and it was rather want of Fortune, then want of skill that did suppresse and obscure their fame: such were Hellas Atheniensis, Chiron Corinthius, Myagrus Pho­caeus, Pharax Ephesius, Bedas Byzantius, and many more. Some Painters also wanted Fortune, as Aristomenes Thasius, Polycles Atramitenus, Nicomachus, and others, in whom there wanted neither industrie, studie, nor cunning; but their [Page 220] owne povertie, and their bad fortune, that made them yeeld un­to their competitors in a partially censured concertation, did hinder their dignitie. Plinie reporteth Lib. xxxiv cap. 8. that Telephanes Pho­caeus was lesse knowne by reason of the obscuritie of his ig­noble dwelling place. The same Author doth also witnesse elsewhere Lib. xxxvi cap. 5. that such excellent workes of Scopas as might have made any other place famous, were hardly knowne at Rome, seeing a multitude of artificiall things did drowne there the glory of his workes. The fame of diverse Artificers is somewhat obscure, sayth Plinie againe Lib. xxxvi cap. 5., and the great num­ber of so many rare workmen doth very often hinder the renown of the most excellent workes of some; seeing one alone cannot engrosse all the glorie, and so many cannot be named all at once.

§ 3. Seeing then that many Artificers were not so much unlike one unto another in their Art as in their Fortune, it may seeme that there was a certaine kinde of ill-conceived opinion which did keepe downe some excellent Artificers, and that others on the contrary got credit and authoritie by reason of a loving and favourable opinion. The vulgar sort of men, sayth Tullie Pro Roscio comoedo., doth most commonly judge many things according to a fore-conceived opinion, & not according to truth: see also Aelianus var. hist. lib. I, cap. 24. The works of Zeuxis, Polycletus, and Phidias were much holpen by the fore-conceived opinion of the great skill these Artificers had: see Maximus Tyrius Dissertat. xxxix. The selfe-same pas­sion of our sense, sayth Plutarch Sympos. probl. lib. v, quaest. 1., doth not alike moove our minde, when it is not accompanied with an opinion that the worke is well and studiously performed. See Plutarch himselfe in the sayd place, where, among many other things belong­ing to this present discourse, he bringeth in a merry tale of Parmeno his pigge.



HAving considered alreadie how Phantasie did help and stirre up our first desire of imitating all manner of things, and how many other causes did mightily cherish and advance the sayd eagernesse of our forward natures, it followeth that wee should last of all propound how this same inclination rightly inflamed and ordered did attain to the height of a perfect and accomplished Art. The ancients observed in Picture these five principall points. Inventi­on, or Historicall argument. Proportion, or Symmetrie. Colour, and therein Light and Shadow, as also Brightnesse and Darknesse. Motion or Life, and therein Action and Pas­sion. Disposition, or an Oeconomicall placing [Page 222] and ordering of the whole worke. The foure first were carefully observed in all sorts of Pi­ctures, whether they did consist of one figure, or of many. Disposition alone was observed in Pi­ctures that had many figures: seeing a piece wherein there doe meete many and severall fi­gures shall be nothing else but a kinde of min­gle-mangle or a darksome and dead confusion of disagreeing things, unlesse they receive light and life by a convenient and orderly dispositi­on. Yet did not the ancients think that the per­fection of Art consisted in a meete observing of these five points, except the whole worke did breath forth a certaine kinde of Grace procee­ding out of a decent comelinesse of every point by itself, and out of a mutuall accord of all five. Wherefore wee could not but enter a little into the consideration of this same Grace: the rather because without a full understanding of this Grace, it is impossible that any man should ex­amine the true force and value of these most fertile Arts aright.


INvention doth justly challenge the first and principall place, seeing no man, though he hath all his colours at hand, sayth Sene­ca Epist. 71., can make a similitude, unlesse he be re­solved what to paint. And whatsoever an Artificer worketh, must, according to the opinion of Zeno, be dyed with the dye of sense, Quintil. IV, 2. The picture of compleat harnesse, sayth Socrates Apud Sto­baeum Serm. de Adulati­one., though it be delightfull, yet is it altogether unprofitable. Ausonius spea­keth to the same purpose, a painted fogge, sayth he Epist. 17., deligh­teth us no longer then it is seene. Except it be such a painted mist as is described by the same Ausonius in another place Edyllio 6., where the Painter doth represent the dimme shade of hel­lish blacknesse by a painted mist, and designeth in it how the ancient Ladies torment the crucified Cupid in hell for having dishonoured them in the times of the Worthies. An Artificer therefore must propound unto himselfe what he meaneth to imitate: the which in such an infinite varie­ty of things cannot be hard to a man that hath a ready Phan­tasie: yea wee have good cause to feare that he shall rather loose himselfe, not knowing what to choose among so ma­ny most worthy things. The thoughts of our minde can con­ceive the images of any thing, sayth Tullie Lib. I, de Nat. Deo­rum.. Our thought can [Page 224] conceive any Country, sayth another Auctor Rhet. ad Herentium, lib. III., and fashion in it such a situation of place as may best agree with our liking. Maximus Tyrius presseth this same point somewhat neerer, when he maintaineth that Invention is proper and naturall unto the minde of man: see Max. Tyrius Dissert. xxviii. Although then a man, for as much as he is a man, cannot but be full of Invention; yet such men as have studied do excell in their Inventions. Nothing is so fertile, sayth Tullie In Bruto., as those wits that are furnished with all manner of disciplines.

§ 2. An Artificer for all that shall not follow the facili­tie of a pleasing Invention so much, as to forget a judicious triall of his own abilitie: he is not onely to invent what he would paint, but he is also to consider his owne strength, whether he be able to compasse his Invention with his Art. Whosoever weigheth his burden, sayth Martial Lib. XII, Epigramm. 100., can carry it. Plinie giveth us an instance in Pausias, who repaired the walls sometimes painted by Polygnotus, and was esteemed to come farre short of Polygnotus, because he would prove masteries in another kinde of picture then his owne, Plinie xxxv, II. Besides this same warinesse, there is another ge­nerall rule for our Invention propounded by Tullie. We are to choose such things, sayth he In Bruto., as are most excellent for their greatnesse, chiefest for their noveltie, singular in their owne kinde: seeing small, usuall, and vulgar things, doe not deserve any admiration or praise. Things passing great are placed first, seeing it is certaine that vertue tempereth her courage according to the measure of the businesse in hand: shee is in small things so remisse and slacke, that shee doth hardly avoide the o­pinion of securitie: shee straineth her selfe somewhat more in things indifferently great: but when there are offered things that are great indeed, shee raiseth her selfe to the height of the work in hand, sayth Nazarius Panegyr. Constantino Aug. dicto. [Page 225] It goeth with Art, sayth another Auctor dia­logi de causis Corr. elo­quentiae., as with the flame; which is maintained with good store of fewell, it is increased with stir­ring, and it waxeth cleerer with burning. The greatnesse of things addeth force to our wit, neither can any man make a fa­mous and excellent worke, except he doe finde stuffe answerable to the worke intended. Aristoteles the Philosopher therefore wished Protogenes to paint the deeds of Alexander the Great, by reason of the eternitie of things, sayth Plinie xxxv, 10. Lysippus also made Alexander the great in many workes; be­ginning from his childhood, Plinie xxxiv, 8. Things unusuall and commendable for their strangenesse were set up in the Theater of Pompeius; and it is remarkable what the same Plinie sayth of them; Pompey the great, sayth he Natur. hist. lib. VII. cap. 3., erected a­mong the ornaments of his Theater such images as were of an admirable fame, and for this reason have the wits of great Ar­tificers bestowed more labour upon them: see Plinie. Things most exquisite in their kinde were represented in the seven and twentie Pictures Verres tooke out of the temple of Mi­nerva; the images of the Kings and tyrants of Sicilie were re­presented in them, sayth Tullie Lib. IV, in Verrem., neither did they delight the spectators onely for the Art of painting that was in them, but also for the commemoration of the men, and the remembrance of their countenance. And here it falleth out very often that some doings or sayings of great men suggest unto us in this Picture a readie way of Invention. So did Galaton paint the whole companie of Poëts round about Homer, as if they were most greedily sucking up the pure waters that flowed out of his streaming mouth: see Aelian. var. hist. XIII, 22. Timotheus, a most noble Generall of the Athenians, having done great deeds with very good successe, would not suffer any man to attribute the glory of such acts unto him, but he was wont to say that Fortune had a hand in it: the busie [Page 226] wits therefore of some scoffing Painters made him sleeping in his pavillion, whilest Fortune standing at his head drew Cities to the net: see Aelian. var. hist. xiii, 43. Suidas. Schol. vet. in Plutum Aristophanis.

§ 3. But as there is alwayes some piece of historie in the Pictures of this nature, which maketh up the Invention, so doth a continued history affoord our Invention sufficient matter to work upon: provided onely that our Invention be not dry and barren, but rather aboundant, over-flowing, and more diffused then the present occasion seemeth to re­quire: to the end our cheerefull minde having attempted something more licentiously, might range about, and of­fend rather in too much plenteousnesse, than languish and pine away for lacke of good matter. For what availeth, I pray you, Invention without matter? where shall it begin? whither shall it turne it selfe? the lively spirits of the Arti­ficers disdaine to be so straightened: it is worse than death unto them to spend the strength of their wits about a spare and unprofitable argument. I doe not studie to induce any man to such an unadvised and temerary licentiousnesse, as useth to sollicite and to corrupt many brave and lively wits; but I doe hold that free and forward spirits are not to be re­strained within the compasse of a narrow cariere, but that wee must rather give our Invention the full raines: for as mettled horses are best knowne by a spacious race; so must Artificers have an open field, as it were, to runne in, with a loose and unrestrained libertie, seeing the forwardnesse of this same most generous Art is weakened and broke when a man goeth about to contain it within the limits and bounds of a straight running-place. You that meane to imitate, sayth Horace De Arte., must not leap downe into a narrow and straight place, from whence shame or else the condition of the worke will not [Page 227] suffer you to come forth againe. Whatsoever doth superabound, issueth out of a full brest. But as there is an easie remedie for ranknesse, so is there no labour can overcome barrennesse. What may be cured by detraction, sayth Seneca Lib. IX. Controv. 2., is ever neerer unto health. Reason shall make some waste of the immode­ratly excessive Invention, care shall file away something, and the working it selfe will weare away something: it is re­quired onely, that there be something which might be cut out and taken away; the which will be, if at the first we doe not make our plate so thinne as to breake it and to cut it quite thorough with engraving somewhat deep. It seemeth also that youthfull yeares for this very same reason are not instantly to be recalled to a sober and severe law of Art, when by the luxurie of an unexperienced wit they delight themselves in the plentifulnesse of a rich and superfluous In­vention: there is more discretion, to use them with some indulgence. Accius a Tragike-Poët speaketh very well to this purpose; What falleth out in apples, sayth he Apud Agell. noct. Attic. XIII, 2., the same is also to be perceived in wittes, which being brought forth hard and sharpe, grow afterwards ripe and pleasing: but such on the contrary as instantly waxe mellow and soft, having at the first some moistnesse of savoury juyce, the same afterwards doe not grow ripe but rotten: there is therefore something to be left in our wittes, which time and age must mitigate: see also Seneca Hippolyto, Actu II, Sce. 2.

§ 4. As for the things an Artificer shall judge to be worth his pains, he shall not onely invent them after the best way, but also after the easiest way; seeing the highest force of in­venting deserveth no admiration, if an unluckie pensive­nesse doth trouble and disquiet the Artificer from the be­ginning to the end of his worke. A neat, and loftie, and co­pious Artificer hath ever round about him great store of [Page 228] Invention; he needs not beate his braines with irkesome studies; all standeth readie at his command. Whosoever climbeth, laboureth most of all about the nether part of the hill; in the meane time the ground he goeth on, groweth more rich and fertile: fruits unlaboured doe afterwards of­fer themselves, and all things spring up of their own accord; the which for all that doe wither away, if they are not ga­thered every day. Plentie for all that must have a meane, seeing nothing can be praise-worthy and wholsome with­out mediocritie; neatnesse likewise must have a manfull at­tire; and a high-stately Invention may not want judge­ment: so shall the invented things be great, and not over­great; haughtie, not abrupt; full of force, not temerarie; severe, not sad; grave, not slow; lively, not luxurious; delectable, not dissolute; full, not puffed up; and so forth. It is ever the safest way to keepe in the middest, because the uttermost on either side is vicious. Quintil. xii, 10. The words of the younger Pliny are worth noting, as being most proper for this place; a meane indeed is best, sayth he Lib. I, E­pist. 20., nei­ther doth any man doubt of that: but he who doth lesse then the matter requireth, keepeth the meane as little as another who doth more. The one may be sayd to have exceeded the matter, the other on the contrary may be sayd not to have answered it to the full: both are too blame; but the one offendeth of weaknesse, the other of too much strength: which though it be no signe of a more polished, yet is it a marke of a greater wit. As many there­fore as doe lack that same confidence of a great spirit, grow instantly faint-hearted; they dare not raise their thoughts, but creepe along the ground; and, which is worst of all, they doe not so much as endeavour any thing, whilest they are afraid of every thing: they embrace leannesse in stead of health; infirmity steppeth in the place of judgement, sayth Lib. II, cap. 4. Quintilian, [Page 229] and whilest they thinke it enough to be without vice, they fall in­to that same maine vice to lacke vertues.

The same Author saith in another place Li. xii. cap. 10., Those that are dry, raw boned, and bloudlesse, use to cloake their imbecilitie by the most contrary appellation of soundnesse: and because they cannot endure the cleare beames of a quicke light, as of a bright Sunne-shine, they lie lurking under the shade of a great name. Health procured by fasting & abstinence was never estee­med true and sound. No more do Physitians approove of such a health, saith one Auctor di­al. de Causis corr. eloqu. cap. 23., as proceedeth out of the anxietie of our minde. It is not enough that a man be not sicke; hee must be strong, and lively, and lusty. Yea, that man draweth neerest unto infirmitie, who hath no other commendation but of his health.

§ 5. Seeing then that our invention must flow easily, and that nothing marreth the life and spirit of the inven­ted things so much, as to force and strain them to a fore-de­termined purpose, it can never or very seldom make any in­vention good and commodious, when wee doe very much and a great while perfist in forging and fitting the inventi­on to what wee have propounded unto our selves. Much handling soileth things, and maketh them lose their bright­nesse. The edge of our piercing wits is likewise turned and made blunt, by a superfluous and unnecessary toyle of pa­ring and mincing the matter in hand. Besides that, The sub­tiltie it selfe, as Quintilian speaketh Li. xii. c. 2., doth consume and bring to nought every thing which is cut too thinne. It chan­ceth therefore very often, that an extemporall and temerary boldnesse bringeth along with it a singular delight, saith ano­ther Auctor. di­al. de causis corr. eloqu. c. 6, for in our wits, as well as in our fields, though many things are carefully planted and laboured, yet use those things to be more acceptable unto us which doe grow of their owne ac­cord. [Page 230] Philostratus giveth a fine reason, When a man studieth to bring forth every thing by speculation, sayth he Lib. 11. de vit is Soph. in Aristide., his minde is kept too much busie, and turned aside from the readinesse of inventing. Since then too much study hindereth and quai­leth that same ready forwardnesse of our mindes, wee hold them to bee best advised who content themselves with an invention when it is brought to the height of conceit, ne­ver tarrying so long about the worke till the heate of their spirits be cooled and gone. For, whatsoever doth not adde something to the former, sayth Quintilian Li. vi. ca. 1., seemeth also to detract. It is in the mean while a signe of small courage, to be troubled with every light occasion. And this same fear must needs stop the forwardnesse of our minde, by with­drawing our thoughts from such things as are more considera­ble, sayth the same Author Li. 9. ca. 4.. He wondereth therefore at it in another place, that many do hang such a while about eve­ry particular, whilest they invent, whilest they weigh and consider the invented things, The which though it were done with this intent, sayth he Lib. viii, in prooem., that they might ever make use of what is best, yet were this same infelicity very much to bee de­tested, by whose means the speedy course of our minde is pulled backe, and the heate of our thoughts is quenched with lingering and mistrustfulnesse. So that somtimes it were better to en­tertaine extemporall thoughts, and to follow the first heate of our forward minde. Do you not observe how brooks do most swiftly run from a fountaine▪ whereas they do but slowly creepe from a standing water? Whatsoever is in agitation is lively and quicke, sayth Symmachus Lib. vii, Epist. 60., whoso meaneth to direct the course of running horses, lesseneth it; and whoso studieth to make equall paces hindereth his owne speed, sayth Quintilian Li. ix. ca. 4.. Even as Torches keep fire by a continuall shaking, and ha­ving let it go out, can hardly recover it; so is the heate of [Page 231] our invention preserved by continuance, and it langui­sheth by intermission. For all manner of rightly conceived passions, as also the fresh images of things, run on still with­out any stay, and doe very often not so much as expect our hand, neither do they offer themselves in haste again, being once delayd. But most of all, when that same infortunat fin­ding of fault begins to interrupt our worke, it is impossible that the force of our hurled invention should keepe her course, there will always appeare in it a certain kinde of in­equalitie: and though every part were chosen never so wel, yet shall the whole invention rather seem to be compoun­ded than continued. Quint. x. 7. Many a man hath often bin able to accomplish the undertaken work, when he fell to it with his whole mind. The greatest part of inuention consi­steth in the force of our minde; seeing our minde must first of all be moved, our mind must conceive the images of things, our minde must in a manner bee transfor­med unto the nature of the conceived things, and how much the more generous and haughty our mind is, saith Quintilian Li. i. ca. 2., it is stirred by so much the greater instruments: praise maketh it grow, forward endeavors adde an increase to it, and it loveth ever to busie it selfe about some great matter.

§ 6. It isth en clear, That a good Artist may justly be esteemed a wise man, not in such a sence onely as every tradesman was antiently called wise Vide Didy­mum & Eu­stath. ad vers. 392. Iliad. 9., but in regard of his invention, seeing therein is something more than is concei­ved at the first. All arts and studies must concurre to make up that same general well grounded knowledge, whereby we are fitted and prepared to produce a good invention: neither is it well possible that any man whosoever hee bee, should invent any thing worth our consideration, un­lesse he have drunke in from his childehood all manner of [Page 232] good arts and sciences. It is a signe of a dull wit, sayth Tul­ly Li. ii. de Orat., to run after little brookes, and not to visit the main foun­taines of things, from whence all is derived.

A perfect and exactly handled invention must bud forth out of a great and well rooted fulnesse of learning: we must be conversant in all sorts of studies, all antiquitie must bee familiar unto us, but most of all the innumerable multitude of historicall and poëticall narrations: we must likewise be very wel acquainted with all such commotions of the mind as by nature are incident unto men: seeing the whole force of painting doth principally consist in them, and nothing beareth a greater sway in such a manifold varietie of pi­ctures and statues.

Thus do we see how the ancients did after a more pecu­liar manner ascribe wisedome unto the better sort of Artifi­cers, seeing none among all other liberall arts do require so many and so great helps of more inward and profound do­ctrine. I doe not speake heere but of an absolutely perfect art; For when there is any question made about any art or fa­cultie, sayth Tully De Orat., the most absolute and perfect art is then ever meant. It made Euphranor admirable, that he did ex­cell in all other kinde of good studies, having withall won­derfull skill in painting and carving. Quint. xii. 10. Pam­philus, Apelles his master urged this point very much; for being not onely a most excellent painter, but also thorowly instructed in all kinde of Sciences, and chiefely in Arithme­ticke and Geometry, hee was wont to avouch that the Art could not wel be perfected without any of these. Pli. 35. 10.

§ 7. That Artificers have need of Geometry and the Opticks is proved by the following example. the Atheni­ans intending to consecrate an excellent image of Minerva upon a high pillar, set Phidias and Alcamenes to work, mea­ning [Page 233] to chuse the better of the two. Alcamenes being no­thing at all skilled in Geometry and in the Optickes, made the goddesse wonderfull faire to the eye of them that saw her hard by. Phidias on the contrary, as being sufficiently instructed with al maner of arts, and especially with Optick and Geometricall knowledges, did consider that the whole shape of his image should change according to the height of the appointed place, and therefore made her lips wide open, her nose somewhat out of order, and all the rest accor­dingly, by a certaine kinde of resupination. When these two images were afterwards brought to light and compa­red, Phidias was in great danger to have been stoned by the whole multitude, untill the statues were at length set on high. For Alcamenes his sweet and diligent strokes beeing drowned, and Phidias his dis-figured and distorted hard­nesse being vanished by the height of the place, made Alca­menes to be laughed at, and Phidias to bee much more estee­med. See Tzetzes Chiliad. xi, hist. 381. and Chil. viii, hist. 193.

Amulius his Minerva seemeth also to have been made by the help of these Arts, and chiefly of the Optickes, for from what side soever a man looketh upon her, she doth likewise looke upon him. Plinie xxxv, 10. There was in the Syrian goddesse her temple an image of Juno, which looketh upon you, if you stand [...]ull against it: if you goe from thence, it followeth you with her eyes: and if any other man looketh upon it from another place, he findeth the same: see Lucian de Syriâ deâ. The head of Diana is set up on high at Chios: Bupalus and Anthermus have made her after such a manner, as to make them that enter into the temple thinke that shee frowneth, whereas they that goe out of the temple thinke by her lookes that shee is now appeased. Plinie xxxvi, 5. [Page 234] That same Hercules, who in the temple of Antonia turneth his backe towards us, is thought to be of Apelles his hand: the picture (which is very difficult) doth rather shew his face, then promise it. Plinie xxxv, 10.

§ 8. Artificers are likewise taught by the example of Ni­con not to contemne the knowledge of such things as may seeme to be but of small account in Nature: for when he had made in the porch at Athens called Poecile a most rare and excellent picture of a horse, yet was the whole worke dis­graced and laught at, because he had made the lower eye­lids hairie, contrary to the nature of that creature: see Aeli­an. lib. IV de Animalib. cap. 50. Pollux Onomast. lib. II. Tzetzes Chiliad. XII, hist. 427. And as we perceive here that all such kinde of ignorance turneth to the discredit of the Artificer, so may we learne out of Philostratus Iconum lib. I, in Polu­dib. what a readie way of Invention the perfect knowledge of naturall things suggesteth unto us: for the Painter being loath to spoyle the naturall beautie of a most pleasant place with an Artificiall bridge, fetcheth a sudden Invention out of the nature of Palme-trees: see Philostratus his description of that and other Pictures. An Artificer therefore must be well acquainted with the nature of all things, but principal­ly with the nature of man. Whosoever meaneth to doe any good with Painting, sayth the younger Philostratus In prooemio Iconum., must under­stand the nature of man thoroughly, and know how to expresse the markes of every one, his manner, guise, behaviour, in them also that say and doe nothing: he must discerne what force there is in the constitution of his cheekes, in the temperature of his eyes, in the casting of his eye-browes. To be short, he must ob­serve all such things as doe helpe a mans judgement. Whosoever is well furnished with such kinde of skill, shall questionlesse excell and have good successe in all manner of workes: he shall [Page 235] not sticke, if need be, to paint a madde man, an angry man, a pensive man, a man that skippeth for joy, a man that goeth ear­nestly about any thing, a man deeply in love: in a word, he shall resemble all what is most fashionable and most proper for eve­ry one.

§ 9. No question then but an Artist must know all man­ner of naturall things perfectly: not that he is for a great while of time to buckle himselfe wholly to his studie, and to examine there in private the severall opinions of natu­rall and morall Philosophers about these affections and pas­sions of man; nor yet that he is to trouble his braine with every curious Geometricall demonstration: for it sufficeth that he doe but learne by a daily observation how severall passions and affections of the minde doe alter the counte­nance of man. Every commotion of the minde, sayth Tullie Lib. III, de Oratore., hath a certaine countenance of his owne by nature. To a lear­ned and wise imitator every man is a booke: he converseth with all sorts of men, and when he observeth in any of them some notable commotions of the minde, he seemeth then to have watched such an opportunitie for his studie, that he might reade in their eyes and countenance the severall faces of anger, love, feare, hope, scorne, joy, confidence, and other perturbations of our minde. Yet shall he for all this, as his leisure serveth him, take in hand the writings of morall and naturall Philosophers, of Poëts, of Historians, of Mathematicians: for although morall and naturall Phi­losophie, Poësie, Historie, Geometrie, cannot make him a Painter, yet will these Sciences make him a more absolute Painter. Counterpoison and other remedies appointed for the cure of wounds and diseases, are compounded of many and very often contrary effects, and there is made out of se­verall things but one mixture, the which though it be not [Page 236] like unto any of the ingredients, yet is there in it some peculiar force drawne out of every one of them. Bees likewise doe sucke out of the juyce of severall flowers such a sweet and pleasing savour of honey, that all the wit of man is not able to imitate any such thing: and why doe wee then wonder that Picture should lacke the helpe of many Arts; which not being sensibly perceived in the worke, are for all that secretly felt, by trans-fusing into the Picture a hidden force derived out of many Sciences? It may be objected here that many Painters have attai­ned to a tolerable skill of Art, though they never medled with any of these Studies: it is most likely to be so; and it matters very little if wee doe grant it: seeing our dis­course is not about ordinary workmen, but wee doe ra­ther speake of such men as are Painters indeed, that is, men of excellent wittes and great learning, to the perfiting of whom Nature and Studie seeme to have most lovingly conspired.

§ 10. The ancient Artificers therefore as they had an excellent way of working, so had they by continuall ob­servation a more excellent gift of conceiving the lively i­mages of all manner of passions and affections: neither could their workes ever have beene graced with such a rare ex­pression of passions, unlesse they had wisely observed the se­verall effects of these naturall commotions that doe trans­port our minde, and alter the ordinary lookes of our coun­tenance. Zeuxis painted Penelope, expressing in her picture the much commended modestie of her chaste behaviour, Plinie xxxv, 9. Timomachus painted Ajax, as he was full of rage in the middest of his madde fitt. Philostr. lib. II, devi­tâ Apollonii, cap. 10. Silanion made Apollodorus, who was a most cholericke man; neither was it the man onely he [Page 237] made of brasse, but his frowardnesse also. Plinie xxxiv, 8. Protogenes made Philiscus, as he was in a deep and pensive studie. Plinie xxxv, 10. Praxiteles made Phryne rejoycing, Plin. xxxiv, 8. Parrhasius made a boy running for strife in his armour. Plinie xxxv, 10. Aristides his Anapauomenos dieth for the love of his brother. Plin. xxxv, 10. That same Bacchus also in Philostratus his first booke of Images In Ariadne., is knowne by the picture of love expressed in his face. These examples do shew unto us what experience the ancient Ar­tificers had in the properties of naturall passions and affe­ctions: the following doe furthermore proove that their Inventions did abound in all manner of wit and learning.

§ 11. Painters and Poëts, as two naturall brothers, have a­gree'd very well in their device, sayth Latinus Pacatus Panegyrice Theod. Aug. dicto., when they doe make Victorie with wings; seeing such men as doe fol­low the successefull course of prosperous Fortune, seeme rather to flie, then to runne. And it is very proper that Pacatus doth ascribe a brotherly neerenesse and agreement unto them both; seeing what Theophylactus Simocatus Epist. 82. sayth of Poëts, that the play of Poëts is full of all manner of wisdome; the same is averred also of Painters and Carvers. I doe not use to view the statues and images made by Art sleepingly and slen­derly, sayth Aelian Lib. XIV. var. bist. cap. 37.: Let this one among many examples serve for proofe: that never any Painter or Carver would attribute unto the Muses, the daughters of Jupiter, unmeet and falsified shapes: neither was there ever any Artificer so void of sense and reason, as to make them armed: insinuating that the life of them who addict themselves unto the Muses, must be accompanied with quietnesse, ease, and tranquillitie. Wee have further proofe of this same wisedome in the picture of the life of man, as it was invented by Cebes: the image of Prodicus his Hercules is of the same nature: and Themistius In orat. de Amiciliâ. having fol­lowed [Page 238] the steppes of that same Sophist, propoundeth unto us such another image of true and fained friendship: see also in Agellius Noct. Attic. lib. XIV, cap. 4. a most lively image of Justice, set forth by Chrysippus with very severe and venerable colours of words. Apelles followed the directions of this wisedome in his ad­mirable picture of slandrous Calumnie. Lysippus could ne­ver have made Occasion as passing by, if his Invention had wanted the readie helpe of this same wisedome. Doe not you know, sayth Heliodorus Lib. IV, Aethiop., that Painters make a winged God of Cupid, to signifie the inconstant ficklenesse of them that are overcome by him: see also Xenophon lib. I, Apomnem. Theo­phyl. Simocatus epist. 54. Tzetzes Chiliad. V, hist. 11. Pro­pertius lib. II, Eleg. 10. Thousand and thousand exemples of this wisedome might be drawne out of ancient Authors; unlesse wee did thinke that these few did sufficiently shew, how the rarest workes of Art have ever been derived out of the aboundant fountaine of this same wisdome, and that Apollonius therfore had good reason to call Phantasie, which is the mother of Invention, a thing full of wisedome: see Philostr. lib. VI, de vitâ Apollonii, cap. 9.

§ 12. But if any man listeth for all this to consider the nature of this same wisdome somewhat neerer, he shall find that, besides what is sayd alreadie, foure things are to be ob­served in the Invention: namely, Truth; Opportunitie; Discretion; and, which ariseth out of these three, Magnifi­cence. What concerneth the first, Picture is ever most care­full of the truth, sayth Philostratus Iconum lib. I, in Nar­cisso.: and as in historie he doth not lesse seeme to deceive, sayth Amm. Marcellinus Lib. xxix., who wil­lingly and wittingly passeth by things done, then he who inven­teth things that never were done, so doth Picture in the ex­pressing of the Truth observe these two rules: shee refuseth to expresse what is not in nature, and loveth not to omit [Page 239] what is in nature. The first is urged by Vitruvius, Let pi­cture be an image, sayth he, of a thing that is, or at least can be, &c. see the continuation of these words, together with the confirmation of this point, lib. I, cap. 3. § 12. The se­cond rule is set downe by Philostratus, those that doe not paint things as they fall out, sayth he Iconum lib. II, in Vene­re., are not true in their pictures. Wee are here likewise to observe that the most famous ancient Painters did make greater account of truth, then of the pulcritude of their figures: and when the truth of the storie should be in danger by studying neatnesse too much, they had rather lose all then lose the truth of the argument. Philostratus when he speaketh of Amphiaraus his horses, the sweating horses being all overlaid with a thinne kinde of dust, sayth he Iconum lib. I, in Am­phiarao., did seeme lesse faire, but yet truer: passing well: for it was not possible to conceive these horses otherwise, seeing the hottest brunt of a most desperate con­flict did require over-heated and fiercely enraged horses. But when there was no necessitie that forced them to ob­serve in every small thing an accurate resemblance of truth, they did sometimes wisely neglect or sleightly passe over such properties of the true similitude as were not so mate­riall, and were likely to overthrow the pulchritude. Such as doe paint faire and comely countenances, wherein there is some small blemish, sayth Plutarch In vitâ Cimonis., wee wish them not to leave it quite, nor accurately to expresse it: seeing the one maketh the image hard-favoured, the other unlike. In things howsoever of greater consequence Truth was ever esteemed a maine cōmendation of Picture; and that upon very good ground. For as it is granted by all that Picture studieth to profit no lesse then to delight, it must needs follow that Truth is a­bove all other things to be observed in Picture; seeing, as Lucian De Conscrib historia. speaketh, nothing can be profitable, but what procee­deth from truth.

[Page 240] § 13. Opportunitie followeth: for as that stage-player is judged impertinent, who bringeth a tipsie dancer upon the Theater in the robes of a grave Senator; so is it ever ex­pected that an Artificer should wisely observe in his works a convenient decency agreeing with the circumstances of the present occasion: neither is it without reason that Phi­lostratus Iconum lib. I, in Palu­dibus. speaking of wisedome and occasion, nameth them the chiefest points of Art. The enamoured Bacchus, as he is described in the same Author, serveth for an example, Bac­chus his picture is knowne by the passion of love expressed in his face, sayth he Iconum lib. I, in Ariad­ne., as for the bravery of his sumptuous apparell wrought all over with flowers, as for the skins of fallow deere, as for the javelins wrapped about with ivie, all these things are throwne away, as being now out of season. The younger Phi­lostratus likewise when he describeth the picture of Hesione, that was to be devoured by a Sea-monster, the occasion doth not permit, sayth he, to make an accurate expression of her beautie, seeing the feare of her life, and the agony of those things shee saw before her eyes, as it did corrupt the flower of nature, so did it for all that leave unto the beholders sufficient markes to conjecture her perfection by the things present. Such another most sweet and gracefull feare is noted in the picture of the distressed Andromeda, that stood now likewise readie to be torne a pieces: see Achilles Tatius lib. IV de Clitophontis & Leucippes amorib. Neither did the ancients onely observe what circumstances were most proper for the present occa­sion of their workes, but they did consider also what place was fittest for them. No pictures doe deserve commendation, sayth Vitruvius Lib. VII, cap. 5., but such as resemble the truth; and though they are trimmed up by Art, yet may wee not instantly judge well of them, unlesse wee doe finde that the things therein contained are not offensive when they come to be tried by reasoning. Apa­turius [Page 241] Alabandeus made at Tralleis a scene with a neat hand, wherein he had made images instead of columnes, centaures al­so to uphold the chapiters of the pillars, &c. He made moreover an upper-scene, wherein the seelings, the porches, the halfe­house-tops were diversly adorned by the Painter. Wherefore when the strange shew of this same scene drew the eyes of all men, and when all were readie to allow of it by a generall approbation; there did step forth a certaine Mathematician, named Licinius; who sayd, that the Alabandeans had the reputation of wise men in all manner of civill affaires, but that now they were judged unwise for a small fault of undecency: seeing all the Statues in places of publike exercise, were Orators pleading; and those in the market-place did hurle a great stone, run, or play at ball. The whole Citie therefore did beare the reproach of the unseemly gesture which their Statues had contrary to the propertie of the places wherein they were erected: neither did Apaturius offer to answer for himselfe, but having taken away the scene, he cor­rected and altered it according to truth. Although now it may seeme easie to observe the decency of a convenient place, and that a reasonable wit upon the least warning may doe therein well enough; yet doth not the occasion of the cir­cumstances, which are to be observed in painting, admit such unchangeable rules and precepts of Art, as to tie all Masters to them: but as in many other things, so most of all in the consideration of this same occasion, it falleth out ve­ry often that circumstances are changed according to the place and time represented. Counsell is a maine thing in the Artificer, sayth Quintilian Lib. II, cap. 13., seeing it is turned and altered diversly according to the occasions of things. The same Author sayth againe in another place to the same purpose; It suffi­ceth me to affirme, sayth he Lib. VI, cap. ult., that counsell is the chiefest thing in our whole life; and that it is in vaine to teach other Arts [Page 242] without it; yea that providence without doctrine is able to ef­fect more, then doctrine without providence. Counsell also, in my opinion, doth not much differ from judgement; but that judgement busieth it selfe, about things that shew themselves; counsell, about things that lie hid and are not yet found out, or at least are doubtfull and uncertaine. The Art of painting re­quireth studious endeavours, assiduous exercitations, great experience, deepe wisedome, and a most readie counsell. Precepts in the meane while helpe the Art very much, if they doe propound unto us the right way, and not one u­sually beaten track onely: but when precepts doe faile, our wits must supply the rest, and we must warily consider what is decent and expedient. Nealces was very wittie and subtill in the Art, sayth Plinie Lib. xxxv, cap. 12., for when he painted a sea-fight be­tween the Persians and the Aegyptians, and would expresse that this fight was fought in the river Nile, whose water resembleth the sea, he declared by an historicall argument what he could not shew by Art: for he made an asse drinking upon the shoare, and a crocodile lying in waite to intrap him. Timanthes also per­ceived that he was to cover something in his picture with the which he overcame Colotes, judging that some circum­stances might not be shewed, or else that they could not be expressed as the matter did require: for when in the sacrifi­cing of Iphigenia, saith Quintilian Lib. II, cap. 13., he had painted Calchas sad, Ulysses sadder, and had attributed unto Menelaus the grea­test sorrow Art could effect; having spent all his passions, and not finding how to expresse her fathers countenance worthily, he thought it good to cover his head, and to leave the apprehen­sion of the fathers heavinesse to the consideration of the behol­ders. Plinie doth mention the same picture, Timanthes did abound in wit, sayth he Lib. xxxv, cap. 10., that same Iphigenia, so much ex­tolled by the Orators, as shee stood neere the altar readie to die, [Page 243] was his worke: for having painted all them that stood by full of griefe, especially her uncle, when he had now consumed the whole image of sadnesse, he covered her fathers face, not know­ing how to shew it as it was fit. There are also other proofes of his wit: as namely a sleeping Cyclops in little: whose great­nesse when he studied to expresse, he painted some Satyrs hard by measuring his thumbe with the stalke of some kinde of hearbes. There is ever much more understood in his workes, then there is painted; and though the Art be great, yet doth his wit goe beyond the Art.

§ 14. Discretion is here also a great point, but very of­ten neglected by them that observe Truth and occasion too much: for as in Tragedies, so likewise in Pictures, all things are not to be laid open before the eyes of the spectator. Let not Medea, sayth Horace De Arte., murder her owne children in the presence of the whole people: let not the villanous Atreus boile the flesh of man openly. There are doubtlesse many things mis­becoming them that doe professe a severe integritie of un­corrupt manners; so that an Artificer had better leave them out with the losse of some part of the storie, then with the losse of modestie. Lucian calleth the picture of Pylades and Orestes, who slew Clytemnestra and Aegisthus, a most just or discreet picture, adding withall the reason of such a new and unused denomination: The Painter, sayth he De Domo., devised a grave course, for having but shewed the impious undertaking a farre off, and running over it as if it were alreadie done, he made the young men busie with the slaughter of the adulterer: see also the description of Timomachus his Medea, as we find it in the Anthologie of Greeke Epigrammes, lib. IV, cap. 9. They doe likewise wrong this same Discretion very much, who by the wantonnesse of their workes throw the specta­tors headlong downe into all manner of unlawfull and fil­thy [Page 244] concupiscences: and an Artificer is here also to take good heed that he do not lose the authoritie of a good and discreet man, whilest he studieth to gaine the vaine and shamefull title of wit and waggerie: see Propertius lib. II, Eleg. 5. as also Sidon. Apollinaris lib. II, Epist. 2. Though a man doe never so much put himselfe in minde of continence, sayth A chilles Tatius Lib. I, de Clitophontis & Leucip­pes amorib., yet is he most commonly provoked by example to imitate the contrary, especially if he meeteth with the example of one whom he esteemeth to be better then he think­eth himselfe to be: the authoritie of a better, turneth the shame of the offence into a most confident boldnesse. Petronius Arbiter affoordeth us an evident proofe of what wee have sayd al­readie, when he bringeth in a lustfull youth set all a fire up­on the sight of some pictures containing the rape of Gany­medes, the repulse of an importunate Naïs, solliciting Hy­las, Apollo his griefe for Hyacinthus, Doth Love then enter in­to the heart of the Gods also? sayth he, and upon this ground he runneth on in his way. Love and Solitarinesse, two bad and most forward counsellors, had brought Chaerea farre e­nough, though the picture of Danaë had not inflamed him more: see Terence Eun. Act. III, Sce. 5.: and Donatus maketh this observation upon it, Terence sheweth here philosophically, sayth he, what hurt the life of man receiveth by the fabulous tales forged by Poëts, when they do suggest examples of naughtinesse unto them that are readie to offend See Clemens Alexandrinus in Protreptico. Wee may very well adde to these lascivious pictures all such kinde of drinking-cups as are e­steemed precious for the engravings of some infamous a­dulteries, even as if drunkennesse were little able to kindle lust, sayth Plinie Lib. XIV, cap. 22., unlesse wine should be drunke in bawdie conceits, and drunkennesse should be invited by the price of such unlawfull contentments. But of this abuse of Art wee have spoken al­readie lib. II, cap. 8. in the beginning of that Chapter.

[Page 245] § 15. Magnificence doth shew it selfe in a well-concei­ved invention, and there is added a wonderfull great au­thoritie unto the worke, when Truth, Occasion and Dis­cretion are duly observed in it: for as the whole Art of pain­ting is not much worth, unlesse it be accompanied with much gravitie and doe containe all such kinde of things as are full of grace and dignitie, so must shee make but a small shew of elegancie, pleasantnesse, and too much laboured gaynesse; seeing these things doe leave in the spectators a strong suspition of affectation, which doth rather lessen then augment the authoritie of an Artificer: whosoever on the contrary is unskilfull and unexperienced in this most accu­rate Art, the same doth nothing else but build castles in the aire for feare of stooping to the ground. Such likewise as doe mistrust their owne wittes, strive alwayes to blow and to lift themselves up, even as weake and feeble persons use to be extreame in their threatnings, and low men love to stand on tiptoes: though now a man upon this same over­straining and forcing of his wit may seeme somtimes to ob­taine the credit of a strong Invention, even as an unbroken or untilled ground doth now and then bring forth goodly hearbs, yet doth he not avoide the greatest danger there is in the Invention; seeing he is desperate in his attempts: from whence it ariseth, sayth Quintilian Lib. II, cap. 12., that he, who doth nothing but seeke what is excessive, may by chance light upon one or other loftie conceit, but that falleth out very seldome, and it cannot make amends for many other faults: the things therefore proceeding from such a vaine minde seeme rather to arise out of a tumultuous distemper of troubled and turbu­lent phantasies, sayth Longinus De sub lim oratione, § 2., then to be handled after a magnificent way: and if you examine every one of these things in a true light, what even now was terrible, shall by little and [Page 246] little grow contemptible: so is it then much better forthwith to looke for a remedie, and not to suffer that our minde a­spiring to greater matters should entertaine frivolous and ridiculously swelling conceits, in stead of a serious & haugh­tie Invention; and every Artificer must know, that as our cattell being too full of grasse is cured by letting bloud, sayth Quintilian Li. II. c. 10, and so returneth to such fodder as may be most proper for the preservation of their strength; that he likewise must lose some grease and part with his grosse humors if ever he meaneth to be healthfull and strong: otherwise that same vaine swelling will betray it selfe upon the first attempt of any true worke: to the end then that wee should not mistake, it is worth our labour to observe out of Longinus an infallible marke of true magnificence. That is great indeed, sayth he De sublimi orat. § 5., which doth still returne into our thoughts, which we can hardly or rather not at all put out of our minde, but the memorie of it sticketh close in us and will not be rubbed out: esteeme that also to be a most excellent and true magnificence, which is liked al­wayes and by all men: for when all such men as differ in their studies, course of life, purposes, and ages, doe all agree in their opinion about one and the same thing, the judgement and appro­bation of so many diversly minded folks, must needs gain a con­stant and certaine estimation of the thing so much admired. The yonger Pliny was likewise persuaded to hope well of the durablenesse of his workes, when he found that all men generally in all places did speake well of his writings. It pleaseth me well, sayth hee Li. ix. ep. 11., that my bookes keepe the same fa­vour far from home, which they have gotten in the city; and I begin to think them compleat enough, seeing several judgments in such diversity of countries judge alike of them.

The reason now why Artificers are more or lesse addi­cted to follow this same magnificent way of art, proceedeth [Page 247] either out of their owne naturall inclination, or else out of a purposed resolution agreeing with their nature. Magnifi­cent thoughts come by nature, and cannot be taught, sayth Lon­ginus de. Sublimi orat. § 2., yea, the onely art to attaine unto the same, is that Na­ture should fit us to high conceited and lofty things. And again § 7, Great minded men are most of all given to entertain state­ly conceits. It is then required here, That an artificer bee of a magnanimous nature: if not, that he do at least with a purposed resolution follow after grave and marvellous things, saith Dionys. Halicarnass. In Isocr.. It seemeth that Nature did dispose Nicophanes to a high strain of invention: Nicophanes was gallant and neat, sayth Pliny Li. xxxv. cap. 10., so that he did paint antient workes for the eternity of things: he had a most forward mind; and there are very few like him: he was most commended for the gorgeousnesse and gravitie of his art. Pyreicus might likewise have gone a great deale higher, if his intent had not beene bent another way. Pyreicus was in his art inferiour to none, sayth Pliny Li. xxxv. cap. 10., but I doe not know whether hee spoyled himselfe by a purposed resolution: and though hee did delight in meane things, yet did he deserve in them the greatest praise: he painted Barbers and Coblers shops, asses, all maner of victuals, and such like things, wherefore hee was called Rhyparographus. These workes of his being wonderfull pleasant, sould better than the bravest pieces of other masters.

Such artificers therefore as long to gaine an everlasting fame must needs be of an exceeding great spirit, or at least upon all occasions entertaine great thoughts, and stately imaginations. But seeing our minde cannot well give it self to this practise, unlesse it be thorowly freed from all maner of sorbid and abject cares, it is altogether requisite that we should banish the ordinary and most cumbersome troubles about the necessities of our wretched life. A cheerful mind [Page 248] poureth forth a witty invention, sayth Cassiodorus in praefat. libri undecimi Variarum. It is impossible that those, sayth Longinus De sublimi orat. § 7., who busie the thoughts and studies of their whole life about vile and servile matters, should bring forth any thing that might deserve the admiration of all ages. See Ju­venal, Sat. 6. and T. Calphurnius Siculus, Eclog. iv.

Protogenes was faine to wrestle a great while with want and povertie, ere that he could put himselfe forth and un­dertake greater matters. He was very poore at the beginning (saith Pliny Lib. xxxv, cap. 10.) and followed his art with great earnestnesse: which was the reason that he was lesse fertile. Some doe thinke that he painted ships till he was fifty yeares of age. Whosoever therefore would willingly meet with excellent and nota­ble inventions, must not onely fill his unoccupied minde with all kinde of great and haughty conceits, but he is like­wise to cherish these restlesse motions of his generous reso­lution, by emulating the better sort of antient writers. When we do imitate the best authors, sayth the younger Pliny Li. vii. ep. 9, we doe inable our selves to finde the like. Attentive reading and studying furnisheth us with a rich store of many and great matters, and teacheth us not onely to use them as they chance to meet us, but as it is fit. Pericles the great sup­porter of Art, and the onely patron of the incomparable Phidias, made wonderfull much of Anaxagoras Clazome­nius, who having fully instructed him in the knowledge of naturall things, but of those especially that were above in the ayrė and firmament, put in him the majestie and gravi­tie he shewed in all his sayings and doings: so that he grew by Anaxagoras his conversation, not onely to have a great minde and an eloquent tongue, without any affectation or grosse countrey termes; but hee accustomed himselfe like­wise to a certaine modest countenance that scantly smiled; [Page 249] being very sober in his gate, modest in his apparel, having a kinde of sound in his voyce that he never lost or altred, and was of very honest behaviour, never troubled in his talke for any thing that crossed him; and many other such like things, as all that saw and considered them in him, could but wonder at him. See Plutarch in Pericles his life. Seeing then that naturall philosophy could effect so much in a stu­dious Prince, how shall not history and Poësie do the same in an Artificer? History, the witnesse of times, the light of truth, the life of memory, the schoole-mistresse of our actions, as Tully De Orat. tearmeth her, cannot but inspire magnanimous thoughts into our breasts, when shee placeth us upon her Theatre, that wee might see from thence the most profita­ble examples of so many sage and valiant Captaines, that wee might step in the middest of the consultations which great men held about great matters, and chuse out of al ages the most vertuous times and persons to be acquainted with. Poësie likewise, being haughty and of a lofty stile, as Lucian De con­scrib. hist. speaketh, is able to inlarge our conceits. Neither doe wee finde among the Antients any artificers more renowmed, than those that drew their inventions out of excellent Po­ëts. The spirit and weightinesse of the matter, sayth Quintili­an Lib. x, c. 1., the whole gesture of the affections, the decent comelines of persons is drawne out of Poëts. Demetrius Phalereus, Dio­nys. Halicarnass. and Pliny, ascribe unto Phidias a certaine kinde of accurate greatnesse and worthy magnificence: and our conjecture shall not be vaine if we affirme, That hee fet­ched the chiefest strength of his invention out of poëts: seeing hee himselfe was not ashamed to confesse, that his much admired Elean Jupiter was made after the image of Jupiter described in Homer. See Valer. Maximus, lib. III. cap. 7. ex. ext. 4. Apelles also when he painted Diana a­mong the sacrificing virgins, tooke his patterne out of the [Page 250] same Homer. See Pliny, lib. xxxv. ca. 10.

It is likewise evident that Timanthes, whose wit all anti­ent authors do so highly extoll, for that pretty shift he made in the picture of Iphigenia, did owe his invention unto Eu­ripides; seeing this same wise Tragaedian In Iphigen. Anlidensi. bringeth in A­gamemnon with a vaile before his eyes. Praxiteles when he made the statue of Bacchus, as it is reported in Callistra­tus, tooke his invention out of Euripides. The same Cal­listratus affirmeth likewise, That Euripides his description of the miserable Medea, was followed by all the artificers which meant to expresse the streits Medea's wavering minde was in when shee found her selfe distracted betweene com­passion and revenge, standing now ready to save or to de­stroy. Longinus his words are worth noting: Many are car­ried away by another mans spirit as by a divine inspiration, sayth he De sublimi orat. § 2., even as the report goeth, that Pythia the Priest of A­pollo is suddenly surprised when she approacheth unto the trivet: where they say there is an abrupt hole in the ground, breathing forth a divine exhalation; and that the priest filled with this divine power, doth instantly prophecie by inspiration. Even so do we see, that from the loftinesse of the Antients there doe flow some little streames into the mindes of their imitators, so that they finde themselves compelled to follow their greatnesse for company, though else of their owne accord they are very little given to these enthusiasticall fits. Neither may this be called a theft, seeing it is but an expression of the bravest maners, devi­ces, and works of the Antients. So is this same strife and con­tention for glory most worthy of praise and victory; yea it is glorious enough to be therein overcome by our predecessors. Al­though now reading and study can doe much, yet shal that Artificer bring greater spirits to his worke, who beside the most profitable endeavours of an emulating vertue, associ­ateth [Page 251] himselfe with Apelles, Protogenes, Polycletus, Phidias; not only considering with himselfe, what these noble soules if they were present, should do or else advise him to doe in the workes he taketh in hand; but propounding also unto himselfe, how they should censure his worke brought to an end. The feare of being disgraced, and the hope of an ever­lasting same, encrease this same care in him, whilest an ear­nest desire to please doth still augment his prosperous en­deauours. Martial felt some such thing when he sayth In Epist. ad Priscum prae­fixa lib. 12. Epigr., If there is any thing in my bookes that deserveth approbation, the auditor hath suggested it unto me. Hence it is that every arti­ficer, though he loveth privacie and retyrednesse never so much whilest he is a doing, yet looketh he for a great con­flux of eager and applauding spectators when the work is done: he scorneth to approve his laborious art to one spe­ctator only. A thing appertaining to all, sayth Symmachus Li. 1. ep. 49, is never content with one witnesse. And as we see, that a fre­quent auditorie was wont to inflame the Poëts; so shall an Artificer likewise receive great benefit by it, if he admitteth every day such men as doe deserve his respect. For it is a rare thing, sayth Quintilian Lib. x. c. 7., that any man should reverence his owne selfe.

This conceived presence of antient, and the true pre­sence of moderne masters will do us more good, if wee doe constantly beleeve, that the estimation of these present and following times dependeth on the judgement of those whom we make choice of for the reforming of our works. It is impossible that hee should entertaine any abject and meane thoughts, who knoweth that all ages will speake of him, sayth Mamertinus, Paneg. Juliano Imp. dicto. Verily so it is, saith Quintilian Lib. xii, c. 2., they do inforce their mindes to great things, who account not only the present age, but the memory of all posterity, [Page 252] to be the space of an honest life, and the race of their glory. Who­soever therefore doth with an heroical minde conceive the true image of the glory that is to come, and looketh for a perpetuall and unchangeable fruit arising not out of a poor reward, but out of the contentment of his mind, delighting it selfe in the contemplation of Art, the same shall easily bee perswaded to spend that time in framing magnificent Ima­ges and inventions, which others bestow upon idle specta­cles, uncertaine wanderings, wastefull dice, unprofitable discourses, a sleepy drowsinesse, and unseasonable banquets. It is a singular gift of providence, sayth Quintilian Li. I. c. 12., that ho­nest things should take us most of all.

§ 16 Wee may therefore very well cease to wonder, why there are now adays so few good artificers, seeing these arts consist of all such things as it is a great matter to excell in any one of them. So was it then a received custome a­mong the Antients that meant to obtaine the credit of ab­solute Artists, not to make profession of the Art, unlesse they found themselves wel prepared and sufficiently furni­shed with all kinde of learning: whereas now every new beginner, that knoweth but how to fill his picture with se­verall figures, and to trim up his lame invention with fine and glorious colours, thinketh himselfe instantly to bee ad­mitted into the deepest mysteries of such a retyred and ve­nerable art. Yet is this alwayes certaine, that a generous minde hateth vanitie, and that never any man was able to conceive or to bring forth any worthy thing, but such as had great varietie of learning. The others on the contrary, for all their boasting, never knew the true way to art, or at least had not the courage to tread the known way. There is another sort of men between the learned and unlearned, who being reasonably wel acquainted with all the grounds [Page 253] of common learning, make for all that a shew as if they did not care for it, hoping by this means to procure unto them­selves a greater opinion of industrie and wit, if they should be thought to doe something without the helpe of other Arts and Sciences; but it is an easie matter to finde them out; true learning disdaineth to be hid; neither can they dissemble so cunningly, but that here and there in their workes diverse glorious markes of reverend antiquitie will peepe out. To let them therefore alone, wee doe rather wonder at their impudence who presume to meddle with these grave and serious Arts, before they have tasted natu­rall and morall Philosophie, Historie, Poësie; not to speak of the Mathematickes; for our moderne wits are so deeply plunged and drowned in their secure confidence, that they meane to doe well enough without the Mathematickes; yea the best of them are content with a superficiall know­ledg of such usefull Arts, not considering that a sleight and carelesse manner of studying helpeth very little. What we would have take deepe root in our heart and become our owne, requireth assiduitie of studie: there is also very great difference whether wee bring forth things of our owne, or make use of things borrowed; for as the things of our owne come forth with great ease, so doth the knowledge of many Arts and Sciences wonderfully adorne our works, though we did never intend any such thing; neither doe the more learned onely perceive it, but the ruder sort doth also very often feele it, when they doe commend the ex­quisite labours of great Masters upon the first sight, as be­ing forced to confesse that they are filled with all kindes of rare and profound learning. For as much then as a true Ar­tificer must be thoroughly skilled in many Arts and Scien­ces, wee may see what our times are come to: profitable [Page 254] learning is despised: necessary Arts are neglected: every one deemeth himselfe more wittie and judicious then the ancients: hence it is that the ordinary workes of our Arti­ficers lacke nothing so much as Magnificence, being stuffed with the drosse of sillie and triviall Inventions.

The noble Art which was anciently waited upon by ma­ny and most worthy Sciences, is cut short, and having lost her ancient dignitie, is thrust out of doores without any attendance or any respect; yea shee is taught penuriously, and learned basely, being forced to seek her bread without any ingenuitie, after the manner of other sordide, mecha­nike, and mercenarie Arts. But why should indignation thus transport me? it is better to laugh them out; least they might thinke themselves to have obtained great matters, who by all their busie toile and labours foolishly mis-spent are come to such a height of felicitie as to make themselves to be laughed at. I rather congratulate those happie wits, who thus become Masters without paines or care: yet am I well assured that those who bring minds uncapable of great things, or not well prepared by studie, shall with their best endeavours effect nothing in this Art answerable to their faire hopes: but finding their soules barren both by nature and ill culture, must content themselves with the Inventi­ons of other men, and employ their whole life in copying their workes, ayming at no other sufficiencie but to be able to draw after them by lines and rulings. In a manner cour­ting the maide when they cannot obtaine the Mistresse, like Penelopes unhappie suitors. That which Cicero Pro Murae­nâ. spea­keth of the Greeke Musicians, that those should blow a pipe which could not touch the lute, may fitly character these unworthy Painters, if these may be worthy of the name of Painters, or if this may be called painting, which [Page 255] high title properly belongeth to them, and to them onely, who are able to expresse whatsoever theminde of man can conceive, and dare exhibite it to publike judgement. The former without this perfection is of small worth or use, like a good sword rusted in the scabberd: to this all our in­structions chiefly tend; to attaine this, no means but Art; all studie is to be applied to this; all practice must aime at this; this is the bond and but of Imitation; in this a man must spend his whole life; by this one Master out-goeth another; for this onely one Piece and way of painting is more excellent than another. But the neere coherence of this with the following discourse doth lead me too farre in­to the matter of Designe or Proportion, which is the subject of the next Chapter.


THe Argument being found, it followeth that an Artificer should observe in his Designe the rules of true Proportion: seeing no man beateth his braines to invent any thing, but that he meaneth to make some use of the mat­ter invented. As for the Proportion that is to be observed here, severall Authors name it severally. Philostratus and o­ther Authors call it by the names of Symmetrie, Analogie, Harmonie: the younger Philostratus therefore joyneth these three denominations together; the wise men of old, sayth he In prooemio Iconum., doe seeme to me to have written many things about Sym­metrie to be observed in Picture; setting in a manner lawes [Page 256] concerning the Analogie of every member and limbe; as though it were not enough excellently to expresse a motion conceived in their minde, if they did not also keepe their Harmonie within a measure agreeable to Nature, (for whatsoever is exorbitant from his kinde and without measure, Nature admitteth not) I say, to Nature rightly acting her motion. It appeareth then that the Greeke names of Symmetrie, Analogie, and Har­monie signifie the same thing; and yet is it not so evident what name the Latines have for it. Symmetrie hath no La­tine name, sayth the elder Plinie lib. xxxiv, cap. 8. the youn­ger Plinie for all that seemeth to expresse the force of this Greeke word by the names of congruence and equalitie. If you did see a head or any member parted from his statue, sayth he Lib. II, epist. 5., it may be you should not be able to finde out by that the whole congruence and equalitie, yet should you be able to judge whether it be elegant and neate in it selfe. Suetonius likewise when he speaketh of the Emperour Augustus, he was of a low stature, sayth he Cap. 79., but that his lownesse was hid by the fitnesse and equalitie of his members, and it could not be perceived but when he was compared with a taller man that stood neere him. And againe, when he speaketh of Tiberius, as he was broad in the brest and shoulders, sayth he Cap. 68., so was there also in all his other members to the sole of his feet a certain equalitie and con­gruence. Tullie calleth it an agreement of parts and an apt composition of the members; for when he doth speake of the great dignitie of man, of all these things that are perceived by seeing, sayth he Lib. I, de Officiis., there is no other creature that is sensible of pulchritude, comelinesse, and convenience of parts. And a­gaine, in the same place, the pulchritude of the bodie draweth our eyes by an apt composition of the members, and delighteth us with nothing so much, as that all the parts agree among them­selves with a certaine kinde of pleasantnesse. Vitruvius na­meth [Page 257] it almost every where a commensuration or commodu­lation, and sometimes also by another name. Agellius Lib. I. Noct. Attic. cap. 1. cal­leth it a naturall competence of all the members among them­selves. The same writer sayth in another place Lib. II, Noct. At­tic. cap. 24., Analogie is called in Latine by some Proportion. Quintilian seemeth also to approve of the word Proportion; Those that goe nee­rest to translate the word Analogie into Latine, sayth he Lib. I, cap. 6., call it Proportion. Seneca thinketh it best to keepe the word Analogie, Seeing the Latine Grammarians have enfranchized the word Analogie, sayth he Epist. 120., I am not of opinion that it is to be condemned and to be sent backe to its owne Citie.

§ 2. Truely it is likely that Artificers have borrowed the words Analogie and Harmonie from that Proportion which is found in Arithmeticall numbers or in Musicall concords: for Proportion is nothing else but a certain law or rule of numbers which Artificers follow. Artificers, whose trade is to fashion and to produce bodily figures, sayth S. Augu­stine Lib. II, de Libero ar­bitrio, cap. 16., have in their Art certaine numbers and ideall perfecti­ons, by which they fit and square their workes; and withdraw not their hands and tooles from the fabricating thereof, untill that which is outwardly fashioned, compared to that internall light of number and perfection, be found as absolute as is possi­ble; and through the presentation of the sense without, please the judge within, seeing it conformable to his exemplarie and supernall numbers. Plutarch also delivereth the very same in expresse words, saying De Audi­time., that which is beautifull is perfi­ted by many as it were numbers disposed together in one apt manner under a certaine Symmetrie and Harmonie: but that which is ill-favoured, quickly taketh his beginning from any one thing either wanting or unfitly redounding. The Musician Mintanor also, being induced by the neere band that is be­tween Musicke and Picture, seemeth to have intituled a [Page 258] booke of the art of Musicke set out by him, Chromatopoeum, or the composing of Musicke called Chroma, or colour, as Fulgentius Lib. I, My­tholog. witnesseth. Damascius also in Photius, where he speaketh of Jacob the Physician, calleth some kinde of Musicke Chromaticum, that is, soft and elegant, and as it were decked with colours. It appeareth lastly out of Pliny Lib. xxxv, cap. 5., that Painters have taken from Musicians the words tonus and harmoge, and have transferred them into their owne Art. Wee see therefore, that not onely Musicians from Painters, but also contrariwise Painters from Musicians have borrowed termes of Art; and that for no other cause, but onely to shew that in both those Arts the same respect of that manifold Proportion, which consisteth in numbers, is had; as if one of them did stand in need of the other.

§ 3. Wherefore seeing it is agreed upon of all that even every light consideration of numbers requireth a quicke and readie use of reason (for nothing sooner bewrayeth a weake and crazed understanding, then to labour, and hacke, and mistake in continuing and comparing numbers together) it is evident that this Analogie, wee speake of, needeth a judgement much more exact and sharpe; as ha­ving this scope, to worke out in one or other materiall the ideall perfection of the numbers conceived in our minde, and as neere as may be to expresse the wayes of artificiall and ingenious Nature. By Symmetrie Art draweth neere un­to Reason, sayth Philostratus in prooem. Iconum. And by this affinitie between Symmetrie and right reason we may like­wise see the truth of that which is written Wisdome XI, 21. that God almightie, the onely fountaine of true and un­corrupt reason, hath disposed all things in measure, number, and weight: so doth Plutarch De animae procreatione quae in Ti­maeo Platonis describitur sub finem libri. say, that the ancient Theo­logers, which were the first Philosophers, made the statues [Page 259] of their Gods with musicall instruments in their hands; not as they were a harping or piping, but for that they jud­ged no worke to be so agreeable unto the Gods as Harmo­nie and concent. Indeed God the maker and framer of the Universe hath in all his creatures imprinted plaine and evi­dent footsteps of this most beautifull Harmonie, which all Artificers endeavour to follow; neither hath any Artificer without the carefull observing of this Symmetrie attained to any shew or shadow of that beauty, which by a due com­position and agreement of all the parts among themselves draweth and delighteth the eyes: and this is that concinni­tie of the bodie and due connexion of all the parts Heroic. in Protesilao. Philostratus speaketh of: for one of the members being cut away from the rest and alone by it selfe, hath nothing that any man should e­steeme; but all of them mutually together doe accomplish a per­fect systeme, being by their communion made into a bodie, and thereto inclosed all about with the band of Harmony, as Dionys. Longinus speaketh de sublimi orat. § 35. The beautie of the bo­die, sayth Stobaeus Eclog. E­thic. cap. 5., is a Symmetrie of the parts referred one to another, and all to the whole. Wherefore as the true pul­chritude of naturall bodies is no where found, without this concinnitie of Harmonie; so the right imitation of them consisteth in the due observation of the same Proportion. All the parts of a statue ought to be beautifull, sayth Socrates in Stobaeus Serm. 1.. In colossie workes wee require not so much the beautie of every particular, but wee doe rather consider the whole, whether it be well or no, sayth Strabo lib. I, Geogr. We count those imitations most of all ridiculous, sayth Galen Lib. I, de usu partium corporis hu­mani., which keeping a likenesse in most of the parts, faile much in those which are the principall. The first and most exact observers of Symmetrie were Parrhasius, Polycletus, and Asclepiodorus. Parrhasius did first of all give Symmetrie unto picture. Plin. [Page 260] xxxv, 10. Polycletus was a most diligent observer of Symmetrie, Plin. xxxiv, 8. Apelles was an admirer of Asclepiodorus for the Symmetrie observed in his workes, Plin. xxx, 10.

§ 4. An Artificer therefore shall study most of all to attaine to an exact knowledge of the proportion of man, as it is in some kinde set downe by Vitruvius, lib. III. Architect. cap. 1. And out of a continuall observation of the most ab­solute bodies he shall likewise propound unto himselfe cer­taine generall and profitable notions, especially such as he findeth confirmed in antient good authors. Seeing there are two sorts of pulchritude, sayth Tully Lib. I de Off., the one consisting in sweet­nesse, the other in dignitie. We are to know, that sweetnesse becom­meth a woman; dignitie on the contrary is more proper for a man. This dignity is maintained by the goodnesse of colour, and colour is maintained by the exercise of our bodies. And in this same con­sideration of sound and well complexioned bodies of lusty men, as on the one side he remembreth with an antient Wri­ter Auctor Rhe­tor. ad He­rennium., That a certaine kinde of swelling doth very often imitate a good constitution of the body: so can hee not but avoid on the o­ther side such a kind of raw-boned hardnesse as dis-figureth the bodies that otherwise might bee esteemed proportiona­ble enough; As there must be bones in the body, and as they must be tied together by their sinews, so are they for all that to be covered with flesh, sayth Quintilian, in prooemio libri primi. That body of a man is onely faire, sayth another Auctor dia­logi de causis corruptae e­loquentiae., wherein the veins doe not appeare, and the bones cannot bee counted: but temperate and good bloud filleth up the members, and raiseth the muscles, covering also the sinewes with rednesse, and commending them with comelinesse. In fair women he considereth the beauty of their face above all the rest. That woman is not instantly counted faire, saith Se­neca Epist. 33., whose leg or arme deserveth to be praised: but whose whole face leaveth nothing in the other members that may seem admirable: [Page 261] unlesse he will esteeme that woman fairer, whose beautifull face is the least part of the handsomenesse that sheweth it self in all the parts of her most absolute body. My Limone, sayth Aristaenetus Lib. I, E­pist. 3., though she hath a face faire beyond Nature, yet put­ting off her cloathes she seemeth not to have any faire face at all, in regard of the other excellencies that were concealed. Statius Papi­nius describeth the faire Parth nopaeus, Atlanta's sonne, even just after the same manner; his limbes shewed themselves, sayth he Lib. VI, Thebaid. v. 570. when he unbuckled his riding coat, the whole cheerfulnesse of his members did lie open: his brave shoulders, his brests that might very well be compared with his bare cheekes, yea the beautifull coun­tenance of his visage was drowned by the beauty of his body. In o­ther women, and chiefly in Virgins, he observeth with Vitru­vius Lib. IV, cap. 1., That Virgins in regard of their tender age being made more tender limbed, receive handsomer effects in every thing that may be for their ornament. Unlesse hee liketh better of the course taken by Zeuxis, who did indulge something more unto the mem­bers of the body, thinking it more stately and more majesticall. Some also are of opinion, that this same artificer followed Homer in this point, seeing he would have woman it selfe be of a stout and able shape, Quintil. xii. 10. Zeuxis is found greater in heads and joynts. Pliny xxxv. 9. Euphranor seemeth first to have made use of Symmetry: but he made the whole bodies smaller, the heads and joynts bigger. Pliny xxxv. 11. Statues, images, pictures, sayth the younger Pliny Lib. I, ep. 20., the figures of men, of dumb creatures, trees also, being but comely, may be esteemed much better for being great.

§ 5. Go over the Chronicles of all ages, observe eve­ry one of them that have made profession of these arts with good succes, and whithersoever your minde and thoughts turne themselves, you shall ever finde that such artificers onely haue attained to a great and durable name, who bent their naturall curiosity to understand the true Symmetry of [Page 262] the body of man: for beeing once by the assiduitie of this same study made thorowly acquainted with the complea­test beauties, they endeavored to imitate and to expresse them with their art. Neither could it bee otherwise, but that this exercise having ingendred in their minds an Idaea of perfect beauty, their works likewise should shew forth an accurate resemblance of that proportion there is in nature. They drew therfore the first grounds of art out of the imi­tation of the fairest bodies. It is a most foolish thing in my opinion, that a man should not study to imitate the best things, sayth the younger Pliny, lib. I. epist. 5. The most famous sta­tuaries and painters, sayth Quintilian Lib. V, cap. 12., when they would cast or paint well favoured bodies, did never erre so grossely, as to take one or other Bagoas, or Megabyzus, for a pattern of their worke: but rather that same Doryphorus, fit for warre and wrestling, or else the bodies of such warlike champions as they tooke to be truly handsome. It seemeth that the inhabi­tants of Abdera had something notable in their faces, for Stephanus de Urbibus In Abdera., witnesseth, that the antient Pain­ters were wont to draw a multitude of them. Many noble and renowmed Painters did in great troups resort to Lais, drawing for strife the brests and paps of her most beautifull body: yea Apelles made for this very reason wonderfull much of her, when she was not yet growne to her full age. The same Apelles made also that same famous picture cal­led Venus Anadyomene, after the example of Phryne, as shee, to celebrate Neptunes feast, went starke naked into the sea, with her haire hanging loose down. See Athenaeus. lib. xiii, Deipnosoph. Although Pliny Lib. xxxv, cap. 10. affirmeth, that the said Venus was made after Campaspe, a Concubine of Alexander the Great.

Clemens Alexandrinus In Protrep­tico. doth likewise relate, that the anti­ent [Page 263] painters ordinarily drew Venus in the likenes of Phryne: and that the antient Carvers also made the images of Mer­cury after the similitude of the goodly and handsome shape of Alcibiades. Arnobius Lib. VI. adversus gentes. teacheth us, That Praxiteles his Cnydian Venus was made after Cratina the whore. Other artificers did runne to the strumpet Theodota. See Xenophon, lib. iii. Apomnem. See also Aristaenetus, lib. I. Epist. 1. As it is then cleare, that the Antients for their imitation made choice of the rarest bodies, so did they for all that princi­pally marke the face in them. For though in our face &coun­tenance there are not much more but ten parts, saith Pliny Lib. VII, nat. hist. cap. 1., yet can we hardly among so many thousand men meet with two countenances like in all things. And seeing that almost all the other parts of our bodies are most cōmonly smooth and plaine, the countenance alone hath great varietie in it, by reason of the inequalitie of divers parts in the face, as they do either rise or fall. Our face is rough, sayth Ammonius In Arist. de­cem Categ­rias., because it is made up of unlike and unequall parts; the mouth, the nose, the eyes, and the rest, whereof some sticke out by their scituation, and some have a kinde of hollownesse. Although this was not the onely reason why they spent their labour chiefely about the face, but also because they knew, that there is ever in the outward lineaments of our face an evi­dent proof of our inward inclinations. Painters making ve­ry small account of the other parts, sayth Plutarch In Alexan­dro, circa initium., take their main similitude from the countenance and such favour of the eyes wherein there are some marks of our manners and disposi­tions. It is likewise to be observed here that they were at the first so nice in this same way of counterfeiting, that they would not so much as suffer the Painter to erre for the best, as the younger Plinie speaketh lib. IV, epist. 28. Their feare was that they should never hit the true similitude, if once [Page 264] they should beginne to flatter them they would resemble. Such as paint faire bodies, sayth Eunapius In Iambli­cho., when they will gratifie them they paint too much, overthrow and spoile the whole similitude: swarving aside as well from the patterne it selfe, as from the beautie.

§ 6. After the most accurate Imitation of singular bo­dies, wherunto the ancient Artificers did accustome them­selves for a great while, they did not continue still in the same way, but they went on to expresse by a more difficult workmanship such an Idea of accomplished beautie as their former exercise had given them to conceive: neither did they trouble themselves any more to set forth a lively simi­litude of one or other particular though never so faire a bo­die, but they studied rather to produce a perfect pulchri­tude according to the true law and rule of Symmetrie; a­spiring ever to that same grace of comelinesse and beautie, which as it cannot be found in any one particular bodie, so may it be gathered out of many bodies. Painters, Carvers, and Statuaries, sayth Galen Lib. I, de Temperam., doe paint, carve, and caste the fairest of every sort: they expresse the fairest man, horse, oxe, lyon, considering alwayes what is most proportionable: this was the commendation of the statue called Polycletus his canon, so named, because all parts did therein agree one with another by an accurate Symmetrie: see our first booke, cap. I, § 3, where wee doe speake more at large of this point.

§ 7. Though now this course seemeth to have been ta­ken by the ancient Artificers when they meane to shew the height & excellencie of their Art, yet did they not in these excellent and in other ordinary workes neglect Similitude: it is exspected that Statues resemble a man, sayth Longinus De sublimi orat. § 32.. Neither may wee justly call it an image, sayth Arnobius Lib. VI, adversus gentes., that doth not draw equall lines from his principall: see also Nazi­anzene [Page 265] orat. IV de Theologiâ: the resemblance of Socrates set forth in a picture, sayth Ammonius In Aristot. de Interpret., if it doth not expresse his bald head, his flat nose, the standing out of his eyes, may not be called a true image of Socrates. Wee doe reade of Apelles that he made his pictures so like, that a physiognomer could as well by them as by the life foretell the houre of death: see Plinie xxxv, 10. And Philoponus affirmeth that a good Painter cannot but hit the similitude of what he goeth a­bout to expresse. Monsters are very seldom engendred in man­kinde, sayth he In Lib. IV. Aristotelis de Generatione animalium., because man bringeth forth perfect creatures: for whatsoever can bring forth perfect creatures, doth seldome erre: even as the best Painters doe very seldome mistake them­selves about the similitude of the things imitated.

§ 8. The ancients therefore as they did not neglect Si­militude, so did they for all that make more worke of Sym­metrie: esteeming Similitude to be the worke of Art, whereas Symmetrie proceeded out of some perfection in the Artificer surpassing Art: see Maximus Tyrius Dissertat. XVI, where he doth most accurately distinguish these two things. It is reported also that Zeuxis painted a boy hold­ing a cluster of grapes; and when the grapes were so like that the birds came flying to them, it happened that one of them who were present sayd that the birds did not thinke well of the picture; for that they never would have ventu­red to come so neere, if the boy had been like: yet doe they say that Zeuxis did put out the grapes, keeping what was better in the picture, and not what was more like: see Sene­ca the Rhetorician lib. X, Controv. 5. Lysippus and Praxi­teles are esteemed to come neerest unto truth; sayth Quintili­an Lib. XII, cap. 10., for Demetrius is blamed as being too curious in this point, and loveth Similitude more then pulchritude. As for Lysippus, Plinie giveth him this testimonie, that he advanced the Art [Page 266] of casting very much, by expressing the haire, by making the heads lesser then the ancients, the bodies also slenderer and dri­er, that the Statues might seeme taller. He was a most diligent observer of Symmetrie, changing the square Statues of the an­cients by a new and unusuall way: and he was wont to say, that the ancients made men as they are, but that he made them as they seeme to be: see Plinie xxxiv, 8.

§ 9. As it is then cleare that Symmetrie was anciently esteemed to be the highest point of Art, so cannot we think it strange that the ancients did most of all delight in naked bodies, which doe not hide what is faultie, and doe not sparing­ly set forth what is praise-worthie, as the younger Pliny spea­keth lib. III, epist. 6. Nakednesse it selfe, sayth Lactantius De opificio Dei, cap. 7., doth wonderfully helpe pulchritude: see Aristaenetus lib. I, e­pist. 1. Yet among all others the Grecians did chiefly love naked and undisguised bodies, being loathe to hide Sym­metrie, the chiefest commendation of their Art, with the ornaments of a lesse artificiall attire: it is a Grecian custome, to apparell nothing; but the Roman and military way is to adde brest-plates, sayth Plinie xxxiv, 5. Apelles painted one of the Worthies naked, provoking Nature it selfe with this picture, Plinie xxxv, 10. Praxiteles found a readie way to teach us what a maine difference there is between cloathed and un­cloathed figures; he made two statues of Venus and set them to sale both at one time and at one price, sayth Plinie Lib. xxxvi, cap. 5., the one being clad, was preferred by the inhabitants of Cous that had the first choosing, because they thought it more grave and honest to take the attired image: the Gnidians bought her that was left, there being a huge difference of fame: for Praxiteles made Gnidus famous with that same image. The whole case is ope­ned, that the Goddesse might be seen from all parts; shee her selfe, as it is beleeved, liking the fact well enough; seeing the same ad­miration [Page 267] remaineth from what side soever you doe looke upon her. If therefore there was any thing in the ancient Statues and Pictures that did deserve commendation, it was que­stionlesse that same plainnesse and simplicitie of Nature ob­served by the ancients in their workes, and whosoever will but caste his eyes upon the ancient workes that are as yet remaining, he shall see better things then ever he could meet withall in his reading, sayth Cassiodorus Var. vii, 15., he shall behold fai­rer things then ever he could conceive; namely, Statues that doe keepe the markes of their authors; he shall view the veines ex­pressed in brasse; the muscles swelling with a certaine kinde of straining; and a man so caste in severall similitudes, that he may rather seeme to be such by a naturall generation: he shall wonder that there is such a mettled fervencie in horses, as to make him beleeve by their wrinkled and round nostrills, by their shaking joynts, and their eares laid in their necke, that they would faine runne, though he knoweth well enough that it is a­gainst the nature of brasse to stirre at all.

§ 10. Besides that same accuratnesse of Symmetry ob­served by the ancients in all their workes, wee doe find also that they were wont to proportion the base to their works, and their workes to the place they should be erected in. Of the first sayth Plutarch De Alexan­dri fortunâ aut virtute, lib. II., poore Artificers when they doe put little Statues upon great bases, argue the smalnesse of their workes the more. Of the second are these words of Vitru­vius Lib. III, Archit. cap. 1., Temples must have in every one of their members and parts a convenient proportion answerable to the whole magni­tude. That now by the name of members wee must under­stand here as well the consecrated Images and Statues as o­ther parts of the sacred buildings, may be gathered out of Arrianus In ipso sta­tim initio pe­riplus ponti Euxini., where he certifieth Adrian the Emperour that the statues of Mercurie and Philesius consecrated in the Tra­pezuntian [Page 268] temple were too little for that same Church. Apollodorus the Architect, as it is reported in Xiphilinus In Adriano., did like wise finde fault with the Images set up in the tem­ple of Venus built by Trajanus, affirming that they were big­ger then the proportion of such a building could suffer. Strabo doth in like manner observe that Phidias took good notice of this same Proportion, when he made Jupiter O­lympius his statue sitting; for though the temple was large enough, yet did the image for all that in this posture al­most touch the roofe of the building: so that it would have pierced the roofe and all, if he had made it standing up­right: see Strabo lib. VIII Geogr. As it is then cleare that the ancients did fit their Statues and Images to the Churches wherein they were to set them up, so is it that the most ac­curate Masters did furthermore regard the altitude of the place ordained for their Statues: for as their standing place was appointed to be higher or lower, so made they them ac­cordingly: whereof although we have set downe a notable example in the eight Section of our former Chapter, yet will it not be amisse to alledge here out of Vitruvius a suffi­cient reason of this practice of theirs. By how much our sight climbeth higher, sayth Vitruvius Lib. III, cap. 3., with so much the more dif­ficultie doth it cut the thicknesse of the aire: and finding it selfe lost and weakened by the altitude, it doth report unto our sen­ses an uncertaine quantitie of measures. The parts of Symme­tries therfore stand continually in need of a proportionable sup­ply, that the workes being set up in higher places, or else being of a colossie bignesse, might have a certaine proportion of mag­nitude.

§ 11. As many as are well skilled in the perfect rules of Symmetrie, doe very often effect strange things by the ver­tue of this same skill. Phidias, as it is reported in Lucian In Hermo­timo., [Page 269] could tell upon the first sight of a Lyons claw, how big a Lyon he was to make to the proportion of that same claw. Phlegon Trallianus telleth us of such another artificiall con­jecture, happily performed by Pulcher, a most excellent Geometrician, who lived in Tiberius the Emperour his times: see Phlegon himselfe cap. 13 & 14, de Rebus mira­bilibus. The Aegyptian priests make likewise a relation out of their sacred Records, sayth Diodorus Siculus Sub finem libri primi., that the most famous Statuaries Telecles and Theodorus, sonnes of Rhoecus, lived a great while with them, and that these two made the image of Apollo Pythius for the inhabitants of Samos: they report likewise that Telecles made one halfe of that statue in Samos, whilest Theodorus his brother made the other halfe at Ephesus, & that those halfes being brought together did agree so well as if the whole statue had been the workmanship of one and the same hand: they do more­over affirme that this manner of working was never practi­sed among the Grecians, but that it was most frequently u­sed of the Aegyptians; seeing they doe not esteeme the fa­shioning of a statue by the eye, as the Greekes use to doe, but when they goe in hand with the stones that are cut out and distributed in equall parts, they doe then take an exact Proportion from the highest to the lowest, and they doe expresse the whole Symmetrie by dividing the whole stru­cture of the body of man into one and twentie parts. Wher­fore when the Artificers are once agreed about the big­nesse, and are now gone to severall places, yet doe they make their workes agree so well in magnitude, that the un­usuall workmanship striketh the hearts of the beholders with an astonished admiration.

§ 12. Lineall picture in the meane time not yet being trimmed up with the varietie of pleasing colours, maketh [Page 270] us after a most plaine way sensible of the great force there is in a meet and convenable Proportion. I doe stretch out my hams, sayth Horace Lib. II, Satyrà 7., to see battels so painted with red chaulke or with a coale; even as if men did fight indeed and stirre their weapons, sometimes bringing blowes, and sometimes shunning them. Philostratus cometh neerer, and openeth the nature and power of Lineall picture somewhat further; Line aments consisting in light and shadow without any colour, sayth he De vità A­pollonii, lib. II, cap. 10., deserve the name of Picture: for we may not onely see in them the shape of the parties designed, but their intent also, whether it be shame or boldnesse that possesseth them; and although these lines, being put together after a most simple manner, doe not represent any mixture of bloud, nor expresse the flower of bright haire, and of a newly up-growing beard, yet doe they resemble the similitude of a tanie or a white man: yea if wee doe designe any one of the Indians in white lines, he shall for all that seeme to be blacke: seeing his flat nose, his standing haire, his plumpe cheekes, and a certaine kinde of dulnesse about his eyes maketh all black and sheweth him to be an Indian to every one that doth view him not foolishly. Lineall picture therefore as it is the ground of all Imitation, so doth it represent unto us the first draught onely of what is further to be garnished with plea­sant and lively colours. Whence it is that many who have a deeper insight in these Arts, delight themselves as much in the contemplation of the first, second, and third draughts which great Masters made of their workes, as in the workes themselves: neither is it any marvell that they should be so much ravished with this contemplation, seeing they do not onely perceive in these naked and undisguised lineaments what beautie and force there is in a good and proportiona­ble designe, but they doe likewise see in them the very thoughts of the studious Artificer, and how he did bestirre [Page 271] his judgment before he could resolve what to like and what to dislike. Those in the meane time who have sufficiently practised designing, may not content themselves with this exercise; seeing the practise of designing, though it be a great matter in it selfe, is nothing else but an entrance to some thing that is greater. The matchlesse collection of de­signes made by my Lord of Arundell serveth here for a suffi­cient proofe: seeing our Honourable Lord out of his noble and art-cherishing minde, doth at this present expose these jewells of art to the publike view in the Academie at Arun­dell house. Our sight, sayth Plutarch In Pericle., is very much revived and fed with the most pleasant and flourishing colours. And as it doth appeare by our former proofe that Lineall picture being done after the true rules of Proportion, may very well represent a lively resemblance of the thing delineated; yet can that same similitude not be compared with the per­fections of a coloured picture. Thus after the considerati­on of Designe and Proportion, it followeth that we should proceed to Colour.


AN Artificer handleth his instruments with ease, sayth Seneca Epist. 121., the Master of a shippe knoweth how to turne the sterne: the Painter doth nimbly marke many and severall colours that are set before him to make a similitude, bestirring him­selfe with a ready looke and a quicke hand between his wax and worke: for as all the letters doe not concurre to the writing [Page 272] of every name, but such onely as are proper for it; so doth not the whole multitude of all colours meete to the making of a picture, but some part of them onely, and these not wildly scattered upon a boord, but well and orderly dige­sted by a most accurate and judicious Art: He is the best Painter, sayth Greg. Nazianzene Carm. X., who expresseth in his pi­cture true and breathing shapes; and not he, who vainly mixing many faire colours representeth nothing else in his worke but a painted tempest. Artificers therefore must thoroughly un­derstand the nature and force of all colours: it is impossible, sayth Hermogenes Lib. I. de Formis orot., to know or to practise the mixing of any thing rightly, unlesse a man doth first understand every one of the things that are to be mixed: so must wee understand the na­ture of blacke and white, if wee doe ever meane to mixe a good browne colour aright.

§ 2. The Greeke Painters called this same mixing of co­lours with the name of corruption, as Porphyrius Lib. IV, de Abstinentiâ. witnesseth. Plutarch likewise in his treatise wherein he disputeth whe­ther the Athenians were more famous in warre or peace, A­pollodorus, sayth he, who first of all found the corruption and the way of expressing the shadow in colours, was an Athenian. The same Plutarch doth in another place Sympos. pro­blem. VIII. 5. set downe the reason of this denomination. And this is that same comixti­on or variegation mentioned in Lucian In Imagin., whereby the Art of Painting maketh images resembling them shee doth imitate, ha­ving first by a moderate confusion tempered discordant colours of painting, blacke, white, yellow, red, as Apuleius De Mundo. speaketh. Picture doth consist in colouring, sayth Philostratus In prooemio Iconum., neither doth shee rest here, but undertaketh to performe greater matters with one colour, then any other Art is able to effect with diverse meanes: shee doth shew the shadowes, shee observeth the diver­sitie which is in the looke of a mad man, in a sad or cheerfull [Page 273] countenance also. Those that cast in brasse cannot attaine to the least part of that vigorous force which is in the eye: but pi­cture knoweth how to imitate a brown, gray, or black eye: she knoweth how to expresse the severall colours of golden, of ruddy and of bright flaxen haire, the colour of cloaths also and of ar­mour. She knoweth how to represent Bed-chambers, houses, for­rests, mountaines, fountaines, the aire at length, which inclo­seth all these things.

§ 3. It is then requisite that a Painter know how to mixe his colours accurately, as Lucian speaketh In Zeuxide, how to ap­ply them seasonably, and how to shadow the work conveniently. Which canot be performed, unles there be prepared a good boord, or else a fit linnen cloath for his worke. Of what wood the boords used by the antient painters were made, is set downe in Pliny, lib. xvi. Nat. hist. cap. 39. about the beginning of that chapter. Theophrast. likewise, hist. plant. lib. 3. cap. 10. and lib. v. cap. 8. reckoneth up what sorts of wood did serve them for that use. But as they made alwaies choice of the wood they knew most proper for their work: so doth Joannes Grammaticus likewise teach us, That an ar­tificer is to make good choice of the cloath he meaneth to paint on. A writer purposing to write well, sayth hee In Aristot. lib. II. nat. auscult., doth sometimes come short of his intent, if he meeteth with sink­ing and blotting paper, or else with bad inke. This is also a Painters case, when the colours or the cloath hepainteth on are unfit for his worke.

§ 4. After that there are good colours, and a fit boord or cloath prepared for the worke, it fol­loweth that an artificer, as the occasion shall require, observe these foure things, Light, Shadow, Obscuritie, Brightnesse, as Plutarch joyneth them all foure very fitly together. Painters cause lightsome and bright things seeme [Page 274] more light some and bright, sayth he de Discrim. adulator. & Amici., when they doe place sha­die and darkesome things neer them. This practise of theirs is a great helpe for the eye: Our eye delighteth most in the brightest colour, saith Maximus Tyrius Dissertat. xxxv., yet shal this pleasure be lessened very much, if you doe not put some brown colour neer it. Yea, it doth helpe the beauty of the picture: The most contrary colours agree very well about the composition of an ex­cellent beauty, sayth Philostratus Icon. li. II. in Centaur.. For this reason also is a blacke picture made upon a white ground, saith Joannes Gram­maticus In li. I. Me­teor. Arist., as a white or golden picture on the contrary, is made upon a blacke ground. It is ever so, that contrary things are more apparant, being placed neer their contraries; whereas it is hard to discerne things like, placed among things of the same likenesse. Even as if you did paint white upon a white, and black upon a blacke ground. Whence it is that such as weare blacke cloathes cannot so well be discerned in the night time, as others that weare white cloathes. Those likewise who doe weare white cloaths in the day time, but especially in a cleare Sun-shine, can­not be knowne so distinctly.

§ 5. Light is altogether requisite in picture, seeing there can bee no shadow without it. Tertullian Advers. Hermog. therefore maketh it an assured marke of a poore and blockish painter, to colour the shadow altogether without any light. At the first, before the Art was raised to that height we do now admire in the Antients, there were none but single coloured pi­ctures, called Monochromata; till the art at length distingui­shing her selfe, sayth Pliny Lib. xxxv. cap. 5., found out Light and Shadow; the difference of colours by a mutuall course setting forth each others light somenesse.

§ 6. Shadow and Light hold so close together, that the one cannot subsist without the other. Light is most of all commended in a picture by the shadow, sayth the younger [Page 275] Pliny Lib. iii. epist. 13.. Hence it is also, That those who painted with single colours, made alwayes some things rise, and some fall: els they could never have given unto every member his proper lines, sayth Quintilian, lib. 11. Orat. instit. cap. 3. Artificers ther­fore use alwayes to adde unto their workes some shadowes and deepnings, that those things which are inlightned in their pictures might seeme to sticke out the more, and to meet the eyes of the beholder. Let upon the same superficiall bredth of any flat boord two parallell lines be drawn, saith Dio­nys. Longinus De sublini orat. § 15., with the colours of shadow and Light, yet shall the ardent flagrancie of light soonest of all meet with our eyes, and seeme a great deale neerer. Nicias the Athenian did most accurately observe Light and Shadows, taking alwaies special care that his pictures should bear outwards from the boord, Pliny xxxv. 11. Zeuxis, Polygnotus, and Euphranor studied very much to have their pictures commended for shadowing and breathing, as also for rising and falling. Phi­lostr. lib. II, de vita Apollonii, cap. 9. Apelles painted Alex­ander as he held lightning in his hand: his fingers seeme to beare outwards, and the lightening seemeth to stand off from the boord. Pliny xxxv. 10. Philostratus observeth the same in the picture of an ivory Venus: The goddesse will not seeme to be painted, sayth he Icon. li. II., she sticketh out so much as to make one thinke that it were an easie matter to take hold of her. Pausias was the first who found out a picture which many afterwards imitated, none could attaine unto. First, when he would shew the length of an Oxe, he painted him stan­ding full opposite against us, sayth Pliny Lib. xxxv. cap. 11., and not sidelong, making his length neverthelesse to bee sufficiently understood. Afterwards, where all others do heighten the parts which are to rise, with white, tempering the colour with some mixture of black; he made the whole Oxe of a blacke colour, and gave the [Page 276] shadow a body out of it self: shewing by a most wonderfull Art, risings in smoothnesse, and continuitie in abruptnesse. As this was questionlesse an excellent piece of rare workmanship; so are we for all that to observe here, that an artificer shew­eth his greatest skill in the picture of fitting figures. Those that doe sit, saith Philostratus Icon, li. II. in Palaest., have many shadowes; and it doth bewray singular great wisedome in the Painter, that hee made the maid sitting. The same Author expresseth this very same point more at large in another place: It is easie to hit the shadowes of them that lie downe, sayth he Ibid. in Antlante., or stand up­right: and it requireth small wisdome to do it accurately. But the shadowes of Atlas go beyond all art: for the shadows of him that stoopeth after this manner, though they fall one into ano­ther, yet do they not darken any of these things that should rise, but cause some light about the hollownesse of his belly.

§ 7. Obscuritie or darkenesse seemeth to be nothing else but the duskishnes of a deeper shadow; even as Bright­nesse may bee sayd to bee nothing else but an intention of light. For if you do put white and blacke upon the same super­ficiall breadth, sayth Jo. Grammaticus In Lib. I. Meteor. Ari­stot., the white shall al­wayes seeme to be neerer, and the blacke further off. The painters therefore knowing this, when they will make any thing seeme hollow, as a Well, a Cisterne, a Ditch, a cave, or any such like thing, they colour it with blacke or brown; and how much more they blacke them, their depth seemeth to be the greater: for what­soever is extreame blacke, the same worketh in us an apprehen­sion of a bottomlesse deepnesse. When on the contrary they will make any thing rise, as the brests of a maid, a stretched out hand, the feet of a horse, they lay on at both sides so much blacke or browne as will make those parts seeme to sticke out by reason of the hollownesse which is so neere. The younger Philostratus giveth us an example in the picture of Pyrrhus, The browne­nesse [Page 277] of the ditch, sayth he, is cunningly wrought by the Artifi­cer, who intended by this meanes to signifie what deepenesse it had.

§ 8. Brightnes is somtimes adhibited in a picture for ne­cessary use, but always for ornament. Necessity doth require it in the picture of angels, precious stones, armour, flame, flowers, gold, and other things of that nature. Greg. Naz. speaking of Angels, The wearing of bright and glistering cloathes is proper unto the Angels when they appeare in bodi­ly shapes, sayth he Orat. xxiii., to make that as I doe thinke, a true marke of their pure and undefiled nature. Such a description of An­gels doe wee finde, Matth. xxviii. 3. and in many other places of the holy Scriptures. As for the picture of pretious stones, it may not be held true without the representation of a bright burning and glistering lustre. The art of the pain­ter, sayth Philostratus Icon. li. II. in Venere., is much to bee commended, for ha­ving round about applied all manner of most esteemed pretious stones, he doth not imitate them by their colours, but by their brightnesse: putting in them a certaine kind of thorow-shining light somenesse, which might serve for a pricke to stirre up our sight, and to draw our eye. Varro Hecatombe apud Non. in Margarit. doth likewise speake of horse-trappings and armour all over bright and glistering with pearles. Although this brightnesse hath not onely place in such armour as is in-layd with pearles, but also in all other kinde of armour which is kept neat, and duly clean­sed. Take good care that the brightnesse of my shield be clearer, sayth Pyrgopolinices a vaine-glorious souldier in Plautus Mil. glor. Act. 1. scen. 1., than the beames of the Sun in faire weather use to be; that the eyes of our enemies might be dazeled at the first encounter. Yea this same brightnesse of cleare-shining armour doth some­times wonderfully change his colours, after the manner of a Rainbow, the rising parts glistering with the repercussion [Page 278] of a full and copious light; the falling parts on the contra­ry by little and little vanishing away unto the duskishnesse of a deeper shadow. See Philostr. Iconum lib. I. in Amphione. and lib. II, in Palladis ortu. See also Cassiod. Variarum V. 1. Fire and flowers have likewise a certaine kinde of bright­nesse. Flowers and flame have not a dul colour, saith Ovid Li. v. Fast., but the brightnesse of them both is able to carry away our eyes. Philostratus also speaking of the picture of gold, seemeth to require in it some such kinde of cheerfull clearenesse as ma­keth gold it selfe pleasant to the heart and eie of the behol­ders: The painter deserveth to be admired for the painting of gold, sayth he Icon. lib. 2. in The mist., having wrought in it a certaine force to cheer up the heart, and withall to keepe the lively figures it had beene constrained to receive. Observe here onely by the way, that Philostratus seemeth to speake of a piece done after that same antient simplicity of art mentioned lib. II. cap. 6. so that in the picture of gold, the gold it selfe was not made by gilding over that part of the picture wherein some gol­den things were to bee represented, but by the most exact art of imitating gold it selfe in lively colours. Brightnesse then, as it is necessarily required in the picture of such like things, so is there in every kinde of picture some brightnes intermingled for ornament. And though a picture be ne­ver so much filled with all maner of choice and flourishing colours, yet can it hardly please the eye, unlesse there ap­peare in it some bright spots tempting and rowsing our sight with their sudden, quicke, and flickering light. These shinings shew themselves ceasing swiftly even as a flash of light­ning, sayth Philostratus, lib. I. de vitis Sophist. in Lolliano. For it is impossible that these lights beeing frequent and conti­nuall, should not hinder one another, sayth Quintil. Orat. In­stit. lib. xii. cap. 10. You may perceive an unequality where [Page 279] those things that sticke out are notable. The height of one Tree is never wondred at, where the whole wood is growne up to the same height, sayth Seneca, Epist. xxxiii. These lights therefore must not be like unto a flame, as Quintil. Orat. Inst. li. viii, cap. 5. speaketh, but un­to sparks shining forth out of the smoke. Neither do they appear where the whole picture shineth, even as stars cannot be discer­ned in a Sun-shine. Such lights likewise as shew themselves of­ten and faintly, can never please the eye, as being only unequall and harsh, not attaining to that admiration heightned things do deserve, and losing the grace plaine things are commended for. Seeing then that not onely the changeable varietie of these ornaments, but their raritie also is a good and readie means to avoid that loathsome sacietie an uniforme picture cloyeth us withall, it behooveth an artificer here to admit the wholsome counsell of Dionysius Milesius: We ought to tast of hony, sayth he Apud Phi­lostr. lib. I. de vitis Soph., With our fingers end: and not with the whole hand. Corinna likewise, when she perceived that Pin­darus was immoderate in the ornaments of his poësie, We are to sow with one hand only, sayd she Apud Plut. Bellone an pa­ce clariores fuerint Athe­nienses., and not with the whole Sacke.

§ 9. We learne then distinctly out of the former con­sideration, That nothing can be bright, as Seneca speaketh Epist. 31., without the mixture of light. And that a good while after the invention of Light and Shadow, there was added unto Picture a certaine kinde of brightnesse, sayth Pliny Lib. xxxv, cap. 5., being an other thing than Light. This brightnesse was named Tonus, because it was something between light and shadow. As for the commissures and transitions of colours, they were known by the name of Harmoge. The word Tonus therefore seemeth to signifie an intention of light; namely, when one or other inlightned part of the picture becommeth more vigorously bright, by making that which before was esteemed light­some [Page 280] enough, serve for a shadow to what wee would have sticke off more than the enlightned part it selfe. As for the word Harmoge, it seemeth to signifie nothing else but an unperceivable way of art, by which an artificer stealingly passeth over from one colour into another, with an insensi­ble distinction. And here will it not bee amisse to observe an example or two of this same Harmoge as it is in nature. For when we behold how the sea and sky doe meet in one thinne and misty Horizontal stroke, both are most strange­ly lost and confounded in our eyes, neither are wee able to discerne where the one or other doth begin or end: water and aire, severall and sundry coloured elements, seeme to be all one at their meeting. See Statius Papinius, li. 5. The­baid. vers. 493. Yet doth the Rain-bow minister to us a clearer proof of this same Harmoge, when she beguileth our sight with the scarse distinguished shadowes of melting, languishing, & leisurely vanishing colors. For although there doe shine a thousand severall colours in the Rain-bow, sayth Ovid Lib. vi. Metam., their transition for all that deceiveth the eyes of the spectators; seeing her colors are all one where they touch, though farther off they are much different.

Boëthius expresseth the same. When the Rain-bow appea­reth in the clouds, sayth he Lib. v. art. music. cap. 4., such is the neighbourhood of co­lours, that there is no certaine end which distinguisheth the one from the other: but we see that the red falleth away to a certaine kind of palenesse, and turneth it selfe by a continuall changing, into the next colour, there being no other colour in the middest to distinguish them both. The very same falleth out in musicall concents, &c. Whosoever looketh upon the rain-bow as consi­sting of one colour, sayth Marcus Byzantius Lib. I. de vitis Soph., doth not know how to admire her enough; but whosoever considers her as consi­sting of colors, wondreth much more. Read Tul. l. 3. de nat. deor. [Page 281] and Plut lib. III. ca. 5, de placitis philos. Let me now apply this same observation of Natures admirable skill unto my present purpose, by shewing a few examples of Arts no lesse admirable imitation: the proofe is obvious in every good picture. So doth Ovid in the place alleadged above com­mend Arachne most of all for observing this vertue. Philo­stratus Iconum lib. II, Chiron is painted, sayth he In Achillis educatione., after the manner of a Centaure: though it be no great wonder to joyne a horse with a man; but to joyne and to unite them so cunningly as to impart unto them both the same beginning and ending, yea to beguile the eyes which goe about to know where the man parteth with the horse, is in my opinion the worke of an excel­lent Painter. Lucian likewise speaketh very much to the same purpose: The mixture and harmoge of the bodies, sayth he In Zeuxide., for as much as the horse is joyned and bound up with the woman, is not done all at once; but gently; and turneth from the one in­to the other as by a quiet and insensible induction, deceiving the eye with a strange stealth of change.

§ 10. Besides this same Harmoge, which draweth diffe­rent colours into one by an orderly and pleasant confusion, it is furthermore requisite that an Artist should take speci­all care about the extreame or uttermost lines; seeing it was ever held one of the greatest excellencies in these Arts that the unrestrained extremities of the figures resembled in the worke should be drawne so lightly and so sweetly as to re­present unto us things we doe not see: neither can it be o­therwise but our eye will alwayes beleeve that behind the figures there is something more to be seene then it seeth, when the lineaments that doe circumscribe, compasse, or in­clude the images are so thinne and fine as to vanish by little and little, and to conveigh themselves quite away out of our sight. All Masters doe confesse, sayth Plinie Lib. xxxv, cap. 10., that Par­rhasius [Page 282] his chiefe glorie was in the uttermost lines, and that in­deed is the highest subtiltie in Picture: for although it require great skill to paint the bodie and middlemost parts of figures, yet are there many that got credit by it. To make the extremities of bodies and handsomly to shut up the measure of an ending pi­cture, is seldome found in the greatest successe of Art; seeing the extremitie ought to compasse her selfe about, ending with a promise of other things behinde, and setting forth also what shee concealeth. Parrhasius for all that being compared with him­selfe seemeth to comeshort in the expression of the middlemost bodies. The following words of Petronius urge the same, I came into agallery, sayth he In Satyrico., much to bewondered at for severall sorts of pictures. I saw there Zeuxis his hand, which as yet had escaped the injuries of age: as for Apelles his picture, which was knowne among the Grecians by the name Monocne­mos, I did not sticke to adore it: for the extremities of the i­mages were with such a wonderfull subtiltie cut off after the si­militude, that you could not but thinke it to be a picture of the spirits and soules it selfe. Seeing then that Petronius and Pli­nie doe urge such a singular subtiltie in the uttermost lines of an exact and absolute picture, wee may very well suspect that they did anciently in these extremities of images re­quire certaine lines approching neere to the subtiltie of the imaginarie Geometricall lines; which are nothing else but a length without breadth. That it is not an idle fancy of our brain, sayth Ammonius In Aristote­lis praedi­cam., that there should be a longitude with­out latitude, but that such a thing is in Nature, the partings be­tweene enlightened and shadowed places doe manifestly shew: for when it chanceth that the Sunne casting his beames upon a wall enlighteneth but some part of the same, the partition be­tweene the enlightened and shadowed place must needs be a lon­gitude without latitude: for if it hath any latitude, it must [Page 283] needs be either enlightened or else shadowed with the rest; seeing nothing can be conceived betweene these two: and if it be en­lightened, it is to be put to the enlightened part: if on the con­trary it be shadowed, it is to be added to the shadowed part: but now there is a line manifestly to be seene in the middest, which by her length doth onely distinguish the enlightened part from the shadowed: and if these parts are distinguished one from an­other, there must of necessitie be something besides them that di­stinguisheth, which as it shall not be enlightened nor shadowed, so shall it consequently be without any breadth. Whosoever therefore doth but slenderly understand how much a neat and delicate picture abhorreth all maner of grosse & course lines, the same shall easily be perswaded to conceive well of those extreame lines that come something neere the Geo­metricall: neither shall he be very much deceived who gues­seth that this was the maine reason why the ancients studied with such an industrious care to draw all manner of lines in colours with a light & easie hand. We shewed above, lib. II, cap. XI, § 1, that this was Apelles his daily practice, and that afterwards it grew to be the highest point wherein Apelles and Protogenes made triall of their art.

§ 11. Wee have seene how good pictures by a due ob­servation of Light and Shadow must have convenient ri­sings and fallings, and how precise an Artificer ought to be in drawing the uttermost lines of his figures with an incom­prehensible subtiltie: it is left onely that the true and natu­rall colour of well-complexioned bodies doe shew it selfe every where in his picture, seeing without it there cannot be any beautie. Beautie is a Symmetrie of the limbes and other parts, sayth Hermogenes Lib. I. de Formis ora­tionis. Clemens A­lexandr. lib. III. Paedag. cap. 11., accompanied with the goodnesse of colour. All bodies both of men and women shall seeme comelier if they doe not shew their rawboned joynts desti­tute [Page 284] of flesh, but if all the limbes moderatly swelling are graced with the true and lively colour of pure and whole­some bloud: The dignitie belonging to a man must be stout and uncorrupted; it cannot abide an effeminate smoothnesse, nor such a colour as is procured by choice painting; seeing bloud and strength must make it goodly and faire, sayth Quintilian VIII, 3. It is a singular help to the perfection of beautie, sayth Lucian In Imagin., that colour be applied according to the occasion of e­very limbe. What is to be blacke, let it be exquisitly blacke; and wheresoever whitenesse is required, let there be a pure white: yet so, that the flower of rednesse be alwayes intermingled. And againe in the same place, the body must not be too white, but somewhat overspred with bloud: for such a colour doth the Ma­ster-painter Homer attribute unto Menelaus his thighs, when he fetcheth his resemblance from ivorie which is gently dyed in purple: such be the whole bodie. Give me then a piece of work wherein this vertue is added to the former, and I shall be bold to say of that picture what Tullie sayth of Apelles his Venus: in the Venus at Coos, sayth he Lib. I, de naturâ deo­rum., it is not a bodie you see, but something in the likenesse of a body: neither is that same red which spreadeth it self and mixeth it selfe among the white, bloud, but a certaine similitude of bloud. The Poëts doe e­very where abound with severall expressions of this mix­ture of bloud, and it were an endlesse worke to relate them all. Ausonius his description of Bissula may serve in stead of many others, as being able to worke in us the impression of an excellently tempered complexion. Bissula cannot be imi­tated with any colour of painting, sayth he Idyllio vii., her naturall grace­fulnesse will not yeeld unto an art which doth but counterfeite. Arsenicke and Ceruse may peradventure resemble other maids: no hand knoweth the temper of such a countenance. Goe to then, Painter, confound red roses with good store of lillies, and what [Page 285] reflexion the aire taketh of them, let that be the colour of her face.

§ 12. These are the most observable things in colour, and it is no great marvell that pictures graced with these perfections should take our eyes after a strange and unusu­all manner. Colour mooveth us more in pictures, sayth Plu­tarch De Poetis audiendis., then a simple delineation; and that because of the neere resemblance of man it hath together with a certaine aptnesse to deceive: for although there be sometimes in lineall pictures, according to our former discourse, a deceitfull similitude of Life and Motion, and that statues very often may seeme to live and breath; coloured pictures for all that, as they shew a more lively force in the severall effects and proper­ties of life and spirit, so doe they most commonly ravish our sight with the bewitching pleasure of delightsome and stately ornaments. A discreet and warie moderation there­fore, as it hath place in all other things, may not be forgot­ten here; seeing the condition of an ornament consisteth not in it selfe, but in the things adorned; to which if it be not ac­commodate, it shall be so farre from illustrating them, that it shall rather destroy them and turne the whole force of things to the contrary. Quintil. XI, 1. Long garments are odious in a little bodie, sayth Symmachus Lib. III, epist. 10., that garment is decently put on, which doth not sweep the dust, and is not trampled upon for hanging too much upon the ground. Apelles, who was wont to be very moderate in all things that concerned the Art, be­cause he would not offend the eyes of the spectators with too much cheerefulnesse of gay and flourishing colours, did by an inimitable invention anoint his finished workes with such a thinne kinde of inke or vernish, that it did not onely breake and darken the clearenesse of the glaring co­lours, but it did likewise preserve them from dust and filth, [Page 286] neither could it bee perceived but hard by. Hee had great reason to doe so, sayth Pliny Li. xxxv. cap. 10., least the clearenesse of colours might offend their eyes that should look vpon them afarre off, as thorow an Arabian glasse stone: studying also by the same means secretly to adde a certain kinde of austerity unto the two bright and flourishing colours.

Though I doe then yeeld unto these our nice and choice times so much, as to perswade Artificers to bestow great care about colours, yet would I not wish them to busy them­selves onely about colours, seeing it may not bee expected that all things should alwayes be done to the good liking of capricious and ignorantly supercilious spectators. Neither will any man who hath but a drop of ingenious bloud in his breast, trifle away both his art and time, and that to no other end but to pleasure such men as he shall get smal cre­dit by to have pleasured them. I would most willingly for­bear to touch this almost incurable sore, if we did not meet every where with them, who neglecting those things which are the sinewes of art, waxe old about the idle study of co­lours: Decencie in the mean time and gracefull ornaments are pretended by them. Neither can it be denied, but that a decent grace of colors commendeth a picture very much; but when it followeth the nature of things of it selfe, and not when it is drawne in by an importunately odious affe­ctation.

§ 13. Those therefore are mightily deceived, who esteeme a corrupt and defective kind of painting more po­pular and plausible, if it take pleasure in a childish licenti­ousnesse, if it be puffed up with an immoderat swelling, if it keepe a great stirre about idle and unprofitable underta­kings, if it love to pranke with lightly fading flowers of vaine ornaments, if it entertaine abrupt and dangerous in­deavors [Page 287] in stead of sublime and magnificent matters, if it runneth mad with a loose kinde of dissolute libertie. For though it be too true, that workes of this kinde prevaile most of all with the Vulgars, as being more agreeable unto their grosse and unexcised capacities, with a favourable shew of obvious and ready pleasure; such unadvised de­lights for all that, though never so naturall unto them, are very seldome constant. Neither was it ever seene, that any artist got by such workes a durable admiration in the hearts of men, but an uncertaine approbation onely, accompanied with idle acclamations, and with a flying joy; seeing all that praise, as being blasted in the hearbe or in the floure, not attaine to any ripe or fruitfull maturitie; chiefely if those admirers chance in the meane time to meet with any other more perfect and truly absolute piece of worke, which maketh their former admiration presently vanish and come to nothing, by an admiration of better things. Those who are taken with an outward shew of things, saith Quintilian Lib. II, cap. 5., iudge sometimes that there is more beautie in them which are polled, shaved, smoothed, curled, and painted, than incorrupt Nature can give unto them: even as if pulchri­tude did proceed out of the corruption of manners. But as adul­terated wooll may happely please, as long as it commeth not neere any purple; wheras if you compare it with a pur­ple coat which is somewhat worne out, yet shall it be over­come by the neerenesse of what is better, and that which before did deceive us, shall instantly bee deprived of his counterfeit colour, growing pale with an unspeakeable fil­thinesse: even so may poore and naughty pictures shine a­lone by themselves out of the Sunne, like unto those little creatures which make a glimmering & fiery shew in dark & close places, but when they come once to bee tried in open [Page 288] and lightsom places, when they are brought in the view of better works, all their blazing glorious shew is presently eclipsed and gon. Many may perchance like of what is bad, but no body disliketh of what is good sayth Quintil. Lib. xii. cap. 10. Health­fullbodies, and such bodies as by a continuall exercitation are filled with good and pure bloud, sayth the same Author In Prooem. lib. 8., re­ceive their favour out of the same things out of the which they receive their strength: seeing this maketh them well-coloured, compact, and closed up in muscles. But if any man study to trim the very selfe same bodies with an effoeminate kinde of polling and painting, the very labour and affectation of such a forced beauty shall make them most ill-favoured and ugly. Lawfull and stately ornaments ad a certaine kind of authoritie to the bo­dies of men: whereas a womanish and luxurious trimming doth not so much decke the body, as it discovereth the mind. This is the true case of that same gay and sundry coloured way of painting, so much esteemed by many; it lesseneth and impaireth the force of the things that are set forth with such a farre fetcht and licentious braverie. If any man should of­fer to adorne a lusty and stout wrestler, sayth Lucian de conscrib. hist., with purple cloaths and other whorish ornaments, disguising likewise and painting his face; would he not seeme to be very ridiculous, for shaming the man after this manner? Even so is it for the most part better to decke his worke in a rug gowne, than to adorne it with strumpet-like ornaments. All commeth in the end to this, that though the colours may justly require care, the things themselves for all that demand sollicitude. Neverthelesse we must not alwayes thinke that best which is most hidden; for the best things are ever at hand, inhe­rent in the things themselves, and most easily discerned by their owne light, being the first things our eyes meet with if we winke not: but we still seeke them, as if they did con­tinually [Page 289] hide and withdraw themselves from our eyes; wee never thinke them to bee neere and about the matters in hand: but we seeke them in bright colours, and some such like superficiall ornaments, weakening the whole strength of our invention and designe, with the unseasonable care of garnishing the worke too much.

Certainly, we are to fal to these arts with a more resolute courage: for whosoever can but assure himselfe that he hit­teth the maine and weightiest points of art aright, in ma­king of an entire body, the same needs not trouble himselfe much about the neatnesse of some little haires, and of the uttermost ends of the nailes. A mean Artificer neer the Ae­milian Schoole, sayth Horace De Arte., doth imitate the nails and the soft haire most accuratly in brasse: he maketh this the unfortu­nate height of his workmanship, because he doth not know how to expresse the whole man as it is fit. As for mine owne selfe, if I were to make any thing, I would as little desire to be like un­to him, as to have an ill nose, being otherwise graced with black eyes and blacke haire. The old Commentator maketh this glosse upon these words of the Poët: the Aemilian school was a place not far from the Circus, so called because one Aemilius had his gladiators there. About this same schoole there did live a Statuarie who did expresse the nailes and haire passing well, leaving all the rest imperfect; wherefore hee was very much laughed at.

I perceive that the earnest care of admonishing draweth me too farre: although my purpose was not to strip picture of all manner of ornament, and quite to banish it, but to forewarne some unadvised Artists onely, that they should not bewray their care of trimming too much, remembring alwayes the praise-worthy severitie of Athenion the Maro­nite, who was compared with Nicias, yea and somewhat pre­ferred [Page 290] before him, sayth Pliny Lib. xxxv. cap. 11.. He was more austere in his colours, and yet more pleasant in his austeritie: so that in his pictures it selfe there did appeare some kinde of learning.

Thus much may suffice of Colour. It is time now still to prosecute our intended order. And because a good inven­tion well designed and seasonably coloured, cannot but re­present some action & passion, it remaineth that we should further consider, what that is which here we do call Action and Passion, as also wherin Life and Motion resulting out of these two doth consist.


AN image though it expresseth all the lines of truth, yet doth it lacke force, as being destitute of moti­on, sayth Tertullian Lib. II. ad­vers. Maro.. Clay wanteth vigour, sayth Apuleius In Apolog., stones want colour, pictures want stiffenesse, and every one of these want mo­tion, the only thing which representeth a similitude most faith­fully. This is ever true in the reall motion, and it was sometimes true in the resembled motion also; there being antiently in the works of the first founders of Art, a very dull, stupid, and unmooveable rigour, voyd of all life and motion. But of this same unpleasant kinde of workeman­ship we brought some proofe already, lib. I. cap. III. § 1. Ci­mon Cleonaeus was the first that found out Catagrapha, that is, oblique or travers images, varying the countenances of men, by making them not onely to looke backe, but up and downe also. See Pliny, lib. xxxv. cap. 8. From thence forth [Page 291] it grew an ordinary practice to alter the shapes, countenan­ces, postures, and to fit the whole worke to a certain kinde of action. There is but small grace in an upright bodie, sayth Quintilian Lib. II, o­rat. instit. cap. 13., all cometh to this, that the face befull opposite a­gainst us, the armes hanging downe, the feet joyned close toge­ther, and that the whole worke from the highest to the lowest be unmooveable and stiffe: that same winding and mooving ad­deth a certaine kinde of gesture to the things expressed: the hands therefore are not alwayes made after the same manner, and the countenance is changed a thousand severall wayes: some bodies represent a violent force in running; some doe ei­ther sit or lie downe; some are naked; some are apparelled; some are halfe naked and halfe apparelled. What is there, I pray you, so crookedly distorted and painfully belaboured as that same Discobolus made by Myron? yet if any man dispraiseth the worke because it seemeth not to be straight enough, shall not that man instantly betray his unskilfulnesse in matters of Art, see­ing that same noveltie and difficultie is therein most of all praise-worthie? Motion therefore is a great point of Art: neither is it hard, in my opinion, to finde the beaten way which leadeth us to this perfection. It behooveth us onely to caste our eyes upon Nature, and to insist in her steps; seeing the whole studie of these Arts is principally bent to imitate the severall actions of our minde with a decent and comely grace; neither will the minds of judicious spectators admit any thing, unlesse they doe finde by an accurate col­lation that there is an indiscernible similitude between the represented figures and the truth of Nature.

§ 2. All manner of decencie ariseth out of a comely ge­sture appearing in the motion of our bodies; and as the head in our bodies themselves is accounted to be the principall member, so is it likewise the maine instrument whereby we [Page 292] doe expresse such affections and passions of our minde as are most decent and sutable for the present occasions. The head being cast downe, signifieth humblenesse; being cast back, arrogance; being hung on either side, languishing; being stiffe and sturdie, it signifieth a churlish barbarousnesse of the minde. Wee have also certaine wayes of graunting, re­fusing, and avouching with our head: besides that therein are seated the passions of bashfulnesse, doubtfulnesse, admi­ration, and indignation, incident unto all sorts of men. The countenance therefore beareth here the greatest sway; since we doe sue, threaten, and fawne by the gesture of our countenance: wee are knowne by our countenance to be sad, merrie, full of courage, or else dejected and abased: our countenance draweth the eyes of men to it selfe, before we doe either stirre or speake: it is easie to reade love or hatred in our countenances; seeing wee are better under­stood by them, then by all the words in the world: nay, the motions of the countenance doe best expresse the state of the mind; as when wee see the bloud sometimes over-flow a tender countenance, discovering the soules modestie by a blush; sometimes againe betraying her cold feares, by an over-pale ebbe; witnessing likewise the mindes calme, by an equall temper of the countenance. Now of all parts of the countenance the eyes are most powerfull, being as the soules window; for in them, even when they moove not, either our cheerefulnesse shineth forth, or a cloud of sad­nesse overshadoweth them. Nature also for the same pur­pose hath furnished them with teares, which either in griefe burst forth, or melt with joy. But their motion doth more especially expresse our earnest intention, our neglect, pride, spitefulnesse, meekenesse, sharpnesse; all which are to be imitated as the nature of the represented action shall re­quire: [Page 293] sometimes also they must be staring and piercing, closed and hidden, languishing and dull, wanton and stir­ring or loosly swimming in pleasure, glancing and (to speake so, venereall, asking or promising something; which to ex­presse, the eye-lids and ball of the cheeke doe wonderfully assist. The eye-browes have also many actions; for they doe in some sort fashion the eyes, and principally command the fore-head, sometimes contracting, sometimes raising, and sometimes letting it fall: wrinkled browes, declare sadnesse: freely displayed, shew cheerefulnesse: shame appeareth in a hanging brow: we doe likewise consent or dissent by the elation or depression of our browes. The nose and lips sig­nifie mocking, scorning, loathing: even in common speech we must take care that the motion of our lips be moderate; seeing our discourse is rather a worke of the whole mouth, then of the lips alone, and therefore it is unseemely to put out the lips, to stretch them in length, to presse them toge­ther, to discover the teeth by opening them too wide, to draw them awry to either eare, to turne them out for scorn. The necke ought to be carried straight, but not stiffe, or cast backe: so is it alike ill-becoming, either to contract or to stretch out the necke. The shrinking up of the shoulders is seldome decent, for by that the neck is shortened, besides that it is a gesture belonging to a base, servile, and craftie knave, when with the shoulders he doth faine flattery, ad­miration, or feare. In familiar speech it is very gracefull gently to cast forth the arme, slacking the shoulders a little, and spreading the fingers of the hand put forth: but when wee doe represent one speaking of a more notable and co­pious matter, wee spread his arme forth toward one side, that the discourse might seeme to flow according to that motion. As for the hands, without which all action is mai­med [Page 294] and impotent, it is hard to set downe how many mo­tions they have: for whereas other parts doe assist us while we speake, the hands themselves, if a man may say so, doe speake. For, I pray, doe not the hands demand, promise, call, dismisse, threaten, request, abhorre, feare, aske, deny? doe not the hands expresse joy, sadnesse, doubt, confession, repentance, measure, plentie, number, time? doe not the same hands encourage, beseech, hinder, approve, admire, and witnesse shame? so that in this great diversitie of tongues among all Nations, this seemeth to be the common lan­guage of all men. The hand hath also some short motions; for sometimes it is moved and gently let fall by turnes, with some helpe of the shoulders, as their manner is that make vowes; which motion is most proper for them who speake sparingly and as it were fearefully. In admiration we hold the hand up, bent somwhat backeward, with all the fingers closed, which in the returne we do both spread and turn in one motion. When we doe aske, we do alwayes frame our gesture after one and the same manner, but for the most part we change our hand, in what posture soever it is. When we approove or relate, we joyne the top of the fore-finger to the thumbe nail next to it, leaving out the other fingers. A slow motion of the hand doth promise and soothe: a more quicke motion doth exhort sometimes commending. The hand hollow and spread, and lifted up above the shoulder with some kinde of motion, doth also encourage. We close the fingers ends, and gently put them at our mouth, when we wonder and deprecate, fearing some sudden indignitie. In penitence and anger we lay our closed hand to the brest. Such as are skilful and curious in these matters, give caution not to lift the hand above the eyes, or not to let it fall be­low the brest: accounting it a great fault to fetch it from [Page 295] the head, or bring it downe so low as the belly. Toward the left side it moveth as far as the left shoulder, but not be­yond; onely in aversation, thrusting out the hand toward the left side, we bring the left shoulder forward, that it may agree with the head bearing toward the right hand. The left hand never maketh any motion alone, but often apply­eth it selfe to the right hand: whether wee set our reasons in order upon our fingers, or detest, by turning both palms toward the left side; or resist, or spread them out on either side, endeavoring to give satisfaction, or else making an humble request. The hands expresse also some further affe­ction; so that their motions in small, sorrowfull, temperate things be short; but more extended in all manner of great, joyfull, and cruell or tragicall things. The motion of the whole body is also of some moment, wherein the chiefest observation ought to be, that the breast and belly be not so put forth as to bow the backe, seeing all supinitie is odious. Let the sides accord with the other motions. In the feet observe either their posture or their motion. It were end­lesse to pursue all the particulars. These things alleadged out of Quintilian Li. xi. orat. instit. cap. 3., may very well suffice; in whom who­soever desireth it may receive further satisfaction.

§ 3. These things being well observed, there will in­stantly in the very eies appear that which Philostratus Icon. li. II. in Panth. cal­leth the meaning and intention of the eyes. Yea, the history of manners, mentioned in Callistratus In descript. stat. Naercissi., will shew it self e­very where in the worke. For it is not enough that carved and painted images resemble the proportion and colour of the life, unlesse there doe likewise discover it selfe in the demeanour of the whole body, but especially in the cast of the eyes, some kinde of vigour answerable unto the seve­rall occasions and circumstances of the represented history. [Page 296] Imitation busieth it selfe most of all about the expressing of manners, sayth Proclus In Platon. Polit.. See Horace in his Art of Poësie. Hector his statue erected in a most conspicuous place of the City Troy, resembleth a demy-god, sayth Philostratus In Heroic., and expresseth many motions of his minde, if a man doth rightly view him. For he seemeth lofty, stern, chearfull, and of an able body for all the delicacie which sheweth it selfe in his limbs: he is likewise compleatly beautifull without any haire; and hee is filled with such a lively breath, as to invite the spectators to touch him. Callistratus In descript. stat. Aescul. therefore had good reason to call Statuarie an Art of counterfeiting manners, seeing it is not her onely worke to expresse the true lineaments of the bo­dies imitated, but to represent also their severall demea­nours, according to the difference of the resembled persons. Observe the same in Picture. Ulysses is manifestly discerned by his austeritie and vigilancie, sayth Philostratus Icon. li. II. in pict. Antil.; Mene­laus by his gentle mildenesse; Agamemnon by a certaine kinde of divine Majesty; in Diomedes you may see the picture of a free and bold spirit; Ajax Telamonius is knowne by his grim looke; Locrus by his ready forwardnesse. Hence it is that great masters did ever change their hand as it were when they are to expresse gods, Kings, priests, Senators, orators, musicians, giving unto every one of them what is fit and proper for them. The Image of Jupiter is discerned from the images of the other gods, by a royall looke, as Ovid Li. vi. Me­tam. speaketh in the description of Arachnes worke. The picture of King Agamemnon, as we may see in Philostratus his words allead­ged a little before, was knowne by a certaine kinde of Di­vine majesty. Amphiaraus the Prophet, as the same Phi­lostratus Li. I. Icon. observeth in his picture, had a sacred and reverend looke, being like unto one that was ready to breathe forth some Oracles. The yonger Pliny Li. I. ep. 14. commendeth Minutius A ci­lianus, [Page 297] for a certaine kinde of grace that might very wel become a Senator. Cermanicus Caesar being about to make a speech, had the true countenance and posture of an eloquent man, as O­vid II. de Pont. Eleg. 5. speaketh. So doth the same Ovid describe Apollo fit­ting of himselfe to play for strife with Pan; his very posture, sayth he xi Metam., was the posture of an artificer. We have in Apu­leius a very neat description of Bathyllus his statue made in this posture. Before the Altar stood the statue of Bathyllus, sayth he In Floridis., dedicated by Polycrates the Tyrant; one of the most accomplished, in my iudgement, that ever I knew. It is a yong man beautifull even to admiration: his haire being put beside the forehead, hung equally divided by either cheeke. Behind, the haire in a more free length, even downe to the shoulders, did hide his faire necke; yet so, that in many places it did shine betweene the locks. His necke full, his cheeke plumpe and smoothe, his face of a meane proportion. His posture was in all things like a Musician; he looked upon the goddesse as if he sang, having on an embroidered coat which hung downe to his very feet, with a Grecian girdle. Both his armes were covered with a cloake to the wrists. All other accoutrements were gracefully suited to the person. He had his instrument close fitted to an embossed belt. His pliant hands attended their severall charge: the left being somewhat advanced, did with divided fingers warble the strings: the right did in a playing gesture apply the sticke to the instrument, as ready to strike; and at every rest in the hymne, the song seemed most sweetly to melt from his round mouth, his lips halfe opening with the endeavor. The pictures of Amphi­on playing upon the harpe, and of Olympus piping, are de­scribed in Philostratus, Iconum lib. I. Callistratus maketh likewise a most lively description of a piping satyr. Whoso­ever will take so much pains as to turne to these Authors, the same shall questionlesse thinke his labour wel bestowed. [Page 298] As for my selfe, I cannot finde in my heart to transcribe all such expressions, for feare of being too tedious. I wil only for further proofe of their accuratenesse in this point, adde a few examples more.

Zeuxis made Penelope, in whom he seemeth to have painted her manners. Plin. xxxv. 9.

Echion made a new maried and notably shame-faced wo­man. Plin. xxxv. 10.

Aristides Thebanus painted a running chariot drawn with foure horses: he made also a Suppliant, in a manner expres­sing his voice it selfe. Plin. xxxv. 10.

Antiphilus is commended for a boy blowing the fire, and a faire house beginning to glitter, but especially for the lads mouth. He is likewise commended for a picture of spindle worke, wherein the threads of every spinning woman seem to make very great haste. Plin. xxxv. 11.

Boëthus his Babe doth wonderfully strangle a goose. Pli­ny xxxiv. 8.

Philoxenus Eretrius made the picture of Wantonnesse; wherein three Silenusses do most riotously banquet. Pliny, xxxv. 10.

Parrhasius made two very famous pictures, knowne by the name Hoplitides, pictures of armed men: the one doth so runne his race, as that hee seemeth to sweat; the other putting off his armor, may be perceived to draw his breath with much difficulty. Plin. xxxv. 10.

Praxiteles made two figures expressing severall effects: the one representeth a weeping matron, the other resem­bleth a rejoycing whore. It is thought that it is Phryne, and many doe perceive in her the love shee bore the Artificer, and a reward withall in the countenance of the whore, Plin. xxxiv. 8.

[Page 299] Euphranor made Alexander Paris: and it is wonderfull in this picture, That Paris may be understood at once, to be a Judge of the goddesses, a wooer of Helena, and yet a killer of Achilles. Plin. xxxiv. 8.

§ 4. This was a great point, and mightily studied of the Antients; seeing the whole labour of art, wanting this life of manners, is but a dry, barren, and unpleasant toile, without either soule or spirit. Neither is there any thing which can adde a more lively and forcible grace to the worke, than the likenesse of an outward motion, procee­ding from the inward commotions of the minde. Socrates therefore doth urge this very much, in his most excellent discourse held with Parrhasius the Painter, and with Clito the Statuarie. See Xenophon, lib. III Apomnem. When I say that this point was much studied of the Antients, my meaning is not that an Artificer should keepe himselfe too busie about these affections and passions of the minde. The heate of our stirred thoughts, sayth Quintilian Lib. X, o­rat. instit. cap. 3., doeth most commonly do more in these things than diligence. And who­soever presumeth to beat out the true images of all manner of affections and passions, by an immoderate eagernesse of thinking, the same shall questionlesse finde himselfe decei­ved. Study and diligence will never furnish us with such images as must readily flow out of the nature and constitu­tion of the matter in hand. An Artificer therfore who de­sireth to moove the spectator with his worke after it is fini­shed, had need first to be mooved himselfe when hee goeth about to conceive and to expresse his intended worke. A minde rightly affected and passionated is the onely foun­taine whereout there doe issue forth such violent streames of passions, that the spectator, not being able to resist, is carried away against his will, whithersoever the force of [Page 300] such an Imperious Art listeth to drive him. See Hor. in art. poët Afflicted folks, their griefe beeing as yet fresh, sayth Quin­tilian Li. vi. orat. Instit. ca. 2., seem to cry out some things most eloquently. So doth anger sometimes make unlearned men well spoken; and that for no other reason, but because the force of their thorowly stirred minde worketh in them the truth of such passions. If therefore we do desire to come neer the truth, it is requisite that we should finde our selves even so affected as they are who suffer indeed. Nothing can be inflamed without fire; nothing can wet us with­out moisture; neither is there ought which giveth unto another thing the colour it hath not. Whatsoever therefore wee would have prevaile with others, must first prevaile with us: and wee shall endeavor in vain to moove others, unlesse wee do finde our selves first moved. But how shal this come to passe that we should be mooved, seeing these commotions are not in our power? Phantasie doth so represent unto our mind the images of things absent, as if we had them at hand, and saw them before our eyes. Whosoever therefore conceiveth these images aright, propoun­ding unto himselfe the truth of things and actions, the same is likely to be most powerfull in all manner of affections: seeing his endeavors shall bee waited upon by a vertue knowne by the Greeke name Energia. Tully calleth it Evidence and Perspi­cuitie. This vertue seemeth to shew the whole matter; and it bringeth to passe, that the affections follow us with such a live­ly representation, as if we were by at the doing of the things ima­gined.

Philostratus, Iconum lib. II. in the pictures of Ajax, Lo­crus, and Thessalia, giveth us examples of this Energia. See the yonger Philostratus also in the picture of Pyrrhus.

Aristides Thebanus was the first who painted the mind, expressing all the affections and perturbations. One of his pieces contained the picture of an infant, which in a surpri­sed [Page 301] city crept to the breast of his mother that was a dying of a wound. The mother may be understood to haue some feeling of it, and she seemeth to feare lest the childe finding no milke, should sucke up the bloud. Plin. xxxv. 10.

Parrhasius painted two boyes, in whom you may see the securitie and simplicitie of those yeares. Plin. xxxv. 10.

Nicearchus painted Hercules sad for shame of his frenzy. Plinie xxxv, 11.

Antiphilus painted Hippolytus frighted with the sea­monster, Plinie xxxv, 10.

Ctesilas made a wounded man fainting, so that one may understand by him how much life there is as yet left in him, Plinie xxxiv, 8. There are also among Apelles his workes di­verse images of men that are a dying, Plinie xxxv, 10.

Leocras made an eagle which felt in Ganymedes what he ravished, and unto whom he was to carry it; with-holding his clawes so carefully, as not to pierce his garment by grap­pling, Plinie xxxiv, 8.

Myron made a Satyr admiring the pipes, Pline xxxiv, 8.

Naucerus made a Wrastler fetching of his winde, Plinie xxxiv, 8.

Alcamenes his Vulcan is very much commended at Athens: for though he standeth still and is apparelled, yet doth there gently appeare in him a certaine kinde of well-favoured lamenesse, Cicero lib. I, de Nat. Deorum: see likewise Valer. Maximus lib. VIII, cap. 11, ex. ext. 3.

Ctesilochus made himselfe knowne by a wanton picture, having painted Jupiter as he was in labour of Bacchus a­mong diverse Goddesses that played the mid-wives; hee groneth most pittifully after the manner of women in tra­vell, and his head is wrapped about in a coife used by sicke folkes, Plinie xxxv, 11.

[Page 302] Theodorus painted Leontium, Epicurus his sweet-heart, meditating, Plinie xxxv, 11.

Lysippus is famous for a drunken woman playing upon a Fluit, Plinie xxxiv, 8. Myron, who was much commended for working in brasse, made at Smyrna a very famous olde drunken woman, Plinie xxxvi, 5. The ancient carvers made Hercules sometimes with a drinking pot, reeling and stagge­ring after the fashion of a drunken man; not onely because he is reported to have beene a great drinker, but also &c. see Ma­crob. lib. V. Saturnal. cap. 21. Stratonicus is more truely sayd to have gently laid downe in a cup a Satyre overcome with sleepe, then to have engraved him, Plinie xxxiii, 12. Diodorus did lay the Satyr a sleepe, and not engrave him, sayth Plato Lib. IV. cap. 12. Anthol. Graec. Epi­gramm., you shall waken him, if you stirre him never so little. Philostratus in the picture of the sleeping Ariadne, behold A­riadne, sayth he Lib. I, Ico­num., or rather sleepe it selfe. And againe in Mi­das his picture, the Satyr sleepeth, sayth he Ibidem., let us speake soft­ly, least he doe awake out of his sleepe, and spoile the whole sight.

§ 5. It were an easie matter to alleadge many other ex­amples of that same successe the ancient Masters had in their passionate expressing of all manner of passions, but that we know they should not be beleeved: if therefore any one in his reading of good authors meeteth with some such like re­lations that may seeme incredible, let him observe here by the way that these great Artificers have had many helps of Art unknown unto us. When Aristonidas would expresse the quailing of Athamas his mad fit, together with his repentance, sayth Plinie Lib. xxxiv, cap. 14., for having throwne downe his owne sonne Lear­chus; he mixed iron and brasse, that the rustinesse of the iron shining thorough the clearenesse of brasse might represent a shamefaced rednesse. Plutarch doth report that a certaine Artificer who made the statue of Jocasta, found a way to [Page 303] mixe in her face some silver with the brasse, knowing that the brasse would draw from the languishing silver such a co­lour as might serve the present occasion: see Plutarch lib. V Sympos. quaest. 1. Aegypt dyeth silver also, that it might be­hold his Anubis in the vessells: silver is stained there, not en­graven: the materiall is turned from thence to the triumphall statues, and it is wonderfull that the price of a darkened bright­nesse should be so much heightened. Antonius the Triumvir his pennies were mixed with iron; and it is admirable that we de­sire nothing so much in this Art as to learne the way of corrup­ting Art: these adulterated and corrupted pennies are most greedily sought after; so that men sticke not to buy one falsified pennie with many good ones. Plinie xxxiii, 9. If some lead be added to the brasse of Cyprus, there is made a purple colour in the borders of such statues as have that kinde of gowne which was called Toga praetexta, Plinie xxxiv, 9. Brasse being con­founded with gold and silver, received in times past a good mix­ture, sayth the same Plinie Lib. xxxiv, cap. 2., and yet was the Art more preci­ous: whereas now it may be questioned whether the Art or the materiall be worse: it is very strange that the Art should be so much decayed, seeing the price of all manner of rare workeman­ship is infinitely raised. It was most of all discovered in the times of Nero the Emperour that the ancient Art of casting in brasse was utterly lost: for Zenodorus the Statuarie, who in that age was held never a whit inferiour to any of the an­cients, making a Colosse of C X feet after the image of Ne­ro, could not reach the art of tempering the metalls as it was used by the ancients, though the Emperour shewed himselfe readie enough to bestow so much gold and silver upon the worke as might be required: see Plinie lib. xxxiv, sub finem capitis Septimi.

§ 6. As it is then cleare, that the ancients by this rare [Page 304] skill of tempering the metalls did sometimes infuse a more notable force of life in their workes; so did they more fre­quently, without any such mixing of the materials, expresse both in statues and pictures the livelinesse mentioned by Callistratus in his description of Bacchus his statue cast by Praxiteles. So sayth the same author in his description of the dissolutely running and revelling Baccha made by Scopas in marble, The stone having no life in it selfe, hath livelinesse, &c. And againe in the description of Orpheus his statue, his haire is so gallant and maketh such a jollie shew of life and spirit, that it deceiveth the sense, &c It will be worth your paines to see in Callistratus how he maketh these descriptions at large; and you shall learne that it is a singular perfection of Art, when there is in the worke such a lively expression of passi­on, when there is in the whole bodie such a sweet swelling softnesse, and such a neere resemblance of the truth that the image cannot well be discerned from the thing it self whose image it beareth. Damagetus Lib. IV, Anthol. E­pigr. Graec. cap. 8. calleth Hercules his fight with Antaeus wrought in brasse, a living workmanship. There was at Pergamus a famous image of Cephissodorus, represen­ting two boyes clipping and kissing one another; the very bodies themselves, sayth Plinie Lib. xxxvi cap. 5., and not the marble receive the true prints of the fingers: the ivorie image carved by Pyg­malion giveth us another example of this softnesse; for Pyg­malion standing well affected to the fabricke of his owne hands, sayth Ovid Lib. X. Me­tamorph., was apt to perswade himselfe that nothing but a modest shame withheld her from mooving: he beleeved that his fingers did sinke into the touched parts; fearing least her bodie might grow black and blew where it should be pressed somewhat too hard. The same Ovid Lib. VI, Metam., when he describeth the rape of Europa woven by Arachne addeth among the rest, you would thinke the Bull to be a true Bull, and the Sea to be the true Sea. [Page 305] So sayth Petronius Arbiter In Satyrico, I was surprised with a certaine kind of horror when I took in hand Protogenes his rudiments, which did strive with the truth of Nature it selfe. Art there­fore is never better, but when shee is likest unto Nature: Art is then perfect, sayth Dionisius Longinus Desubilim orat. § 19., when shee see­meth to be Nature. This was the reason why Apelles mistru­sting the judgement of partiall censurers, did appeale from them to the very beasts: for having perceived, sayth Plinie Lib. xxxv, cap. 10., that his emulators were like to prevaile by some favour prepa­red with great sute, he shewed every one his worke unto some hor­ses that were brought into the roome: but the horses did onely neighe to Apelles his horse: and this was ever after held to be a triall of Art: see Aelian. var. hist. lib. II, cap. 3. and Valer. Maximus lib. VIII, cap. 11. exemplo externo 4. Such Pain­ters on the the contrary as did mistrust their owne skill, and found themselves to come farre short of Nature, could never abide that their pictures should be compared with that truth of life which is in things naturall. A certain Pain­ter therefore, as Plutarch De discr­adul. & amici. reporteth, who painted cockes most unluckily, gave his boy great charge, to chase the true cockes away from his picture.

§ 7. Though our present discourse hath busied it selfe sufficiently with this point of Life and Motion, yet may we not leave it so, unlesse we doe first touch their error a little who cannot be perswaded that there is any life and spirit in their works, unles they fill them with a shew of I know not what laborious and painfull endeavors of severall actions: for seeking the Art where it is not to be fought, and so mis­sing the true way of Art, they fall into a youthfull and light­headed kind of trifling, proceeding from an unexperienced unskilfulnesse of what is good and decent Plutarch Ad princi­pem ineru­ditum. there­fore doth justly reproove those unadvised carvers, who [Page 306] thinke that their colossie works shall seeme greater and lu­stier, if they make them stretching of themselves immode­rately, striding furiously, and gaping fearefully. This im­perfection is well and properly called parenthyrsus: and it is nothing else but an unseasonable and vaine passion, sayth Longinus De sublimi orat. § 2., where there needs no passion; or else an immoderate passion, where a moderate might serve the turne: for some, as if they were besotted with drink, use many passions of their own, or else brought out of the schooles, never regarding whether they be proper for the matter in hand.


DEMOCRITUS was of opinion, that Co­lours are nothing in their owne nature; but that the mixtures made of them do then one­ly stirre our phantasies, when upon a meete and proportionable application there appea­reth in them order, figure, and disposition Stobaeus E­clog. physic. cap. 19.. It is certaine therefore that colours being laid on after a seasonable and good order, doe sometimes make up whole figures which never shall be able to affect our minde, meerly for lacke of a good Disposition. This same Disposition must be obser­ved as well in a picture consisting of one figure, as in a pi­cture containing many figures. What an unseemely and o­dious sight would it be, to see the picture of a man in grave and stately robes standing with his head upon the ground? it is true that Pauson, as Plutarch Cur Pythia nune non red­dat oracula carmine. reporteth, being desired to make a tumbling and wallowing horse, made it running; [Page 307] and when he that bespoke the worke did expostulate with him for not having performed his promise, Turne the pi­cture, sayd Pauson, and you shall have your desire: but this was a meere tricke of the Painter, who having painted the bare horse without either ground or skie, made it an indif­ferent thing to represent the horse running or wallowing, seeing the turning of the pictures upside downe did alter the whole Disposition. A picture containing many figures refuseth to be so dallied with: every scheme or figure must have his proper posture and place according to the present occasion: so is there also a singular delight in such a varie­tie; whereas on the contrary things never altering their shew, as Theodoretus speaketh Serm. II, de Providentiâ., doe quickly wearie us. No wonder then if wee are most taken with pictures of a full and co­pious argument, seeing such kinde of pictures doth as it were put on a new face almost in every figure, suggesting still unto our greedie eye some fresh matter to feed on; e­specially, if so many and severall schemes are well and or­derly digested. The nature of man cannot name any other thing so usefull and faire as order, sayth Xenophon In Oecono­mico.: a tumultuous and casually confused piece of worke doth never deserve a­ny admiration: that picture is likely to ravish us, wherein every part is not onely perfect in it selfe, but agreeth with the whole also by a naturall and well-disposed collocation and connexion: every good thing is best in his owne place, sayth Cassiodorus Variarum v. 22., and whatsoever is praise-worthie, looseth the glory it hath, unlesse it doe meete with his right place.

§ 2. This is a mightie point, and requireth the care of a quicke and cleare braine: it is not enough that a man inten­ding to build, should bring lime, stones, and other materi­als together, unlesse he take further care that all the conge­sted stuffe might be well and orderly digested by a skilfull [Page 308] hand: even so in picture, the plentifull copiousnesse of a most rich and fertile argument shall be nothing else but an unpleasant heap of wildly scattered figures, unlesse Disposi­tion tie them together by a good and decent order. Let all the joynts and members of a brasen figure be readie caste, yet shall they never make up a statue, not being fitted to their peculiar places; and if then any one part chance to be misplaced, if an eare standeth in place of the nose, if a leg be put where the arme should be, the whole figure will pre­sently seem monstruous and prodigious: all the parts of our bodie, being but lightly put out of joynt, doe instantly lose the use they had before: so do disordered Armies most com­monly feele the want of order. Nature it selfe seemeth to be upholden by order: and as it is certain that nothing, which wanteth this support, can subsist; so must Picture needs run at random, roving and wandering without any guide, af­ter the fashion of those who straying in unknowne and dark places cannot tell where to beginne and where to end their journey, suffering themselves rather to be guided by chance then counsell: whosoever on the contrary hath but once framed in his minde a disposition of the conceived matter, the same, if he be but a tolerable Artificer, shall dis­patch the rest with a wonderfull ease: The matter being con­sidered of aforehand, sayth Horace De Arte Poeticâ., words use to follow with an unconstrained facilitie. The ancient Commentator in­stancing upon these words of the Poët, Menander, sayth he, having made the disposition of a fable, though he had not yet trimmed it up with verses, was wont to say that he had alreadie accomplished it.

§ 3. Seeing then that the very framing and ordering of a conceived Disposition doth in a manner accomplish the worke, it behooveth us to goe earnestly about it and dili­gently [Page 309] to consider what helps there are affoorded us to the furthering of this point But here we are first to distinguish the Disposition as it is annexed to the Invention, from the Disposition as it is the worke of an accurate Proportion. Disposition as it is an exed to the Invention, doth expresse a lively image of that order which the nature of the inven­ted things imprinteth in our mind: this is a worke of great consequence, and it requireth singular care: for if the an­cients had knowne a certaine way of Disposition which might have fitted all matters, a good many should have ex­celled in it: Apelles especially, that same bright lode-starre of Art, should have attained this praise above all the rest: who now, not daring to ascribe this glory unto himselfe, was compelled to yeeld unto Amphion: see Plinie lib. xxxv, cap. 10. For as much then as there hath alwayes been and ever shall be an infinite sort of images, seeing also that ne­ver any man as yet could meet with an argument which in all things was like unto another argument; it is evident that an Artificer, who is loath to mistake, must be circumspect, vigilant, judicious, full of invention, and apt to advise him­selfe according as the severall occasions of the matter in hand shall require. I cannot deny in the meane time but that there are some observations which in such a tickle point may stand for Rules, and these I will not omit.

§ 4. The chiefest helpe of Disposition consisteth there­in, that wee acquaint our thoughts with the very presence, as it were, of the conceived matter: for if the history doth but once beginne to plant her image in our imagination, the very handling of the matter and the reentring into the presence of things will instantly suggest into us a readie and sure way how to order and place every figure: but we must suffer our understanding to be directed to the well-head of [Page 310] the history it selfe, that from thence gathering the full in­tention of the conceit, wee might at one view, rightly ap­prehend the whole argument: for if wee doe but under­stand it by halfe & confusedly, the Disposition must needs be lame and imperfect: Wee must fix our minde, not upon one thing onely, sayth Quintilian Lib. X. o­rat. instit. cap. 7., but upon many continued things at once: even as when we cast our eyes thorough a straight way, wee see all at once what is in it and about it: wee doe not onely see the end, but to the end. There is most commonly in every copious and historicall argument a first, second, and third sense: neither is it enough that wee labour to settle them in order, but wee must moreover endeavour to joyne and to connect them so cunningly, that it might not be per­ceived where and how they are joyned, as being now no more parts and members, but an entire bodie: which will be performed most prosperously, if we having ripely con­sidered the naturall agreement of things, doe not joyne re­pugnant figures, but such onely as hold together: for by this means shall diverse things out of sundry places, though never so unacquainted, meet after a friendly manner; they shall not dashe one against another, but rather unite and consociate themselves with what goeth before and follow­eth after; even as if they were made one, not so much by an artificiall composition, as by a naturall continuation, Quintil. VII, 10.

§ 5. It is then in any wise necessary that wee should fit and frame the whole structure of our Disposition to the order which was kept in the things themselves when they were adoing. Himerius urgeth this point in that most ex­cellent picture conceived and disposed by himselfe, where­in he would have the Painter expresse the tragicall historie of a rich man murdering a poore mans sonne whom he had [Page 311] adopted, and found him afterwards committing of adultery with his mother. Get a Painter, sayth Himerius Apud Pho­tium., of a tra­gicall hand, but of a more tragicall minde: bid him keepe that order in his picture, which was the order of my mis-fortunes, &c. vide locum. Observe onely that the methode of a pain­ted history must not alwayes betyed to the lawes of a pen­ned historie: an historiographer discourseth of affaires or­derly as they were done, according as well the times as the actions: but a Painter thrusteth himselfe into the very mid­dest, even where it most concerneth him: and recoursing from thence to the things fore-past, preventing likewise the things to come, he maketh his Art all at once represent things alreadie done, things that are adoing, and things which are as yet to be done. Picture pourtrayeth what is al­readie done, what is adoing, and what as yet is to be done; sayth Philostratus Iconum lib. I, in Bospore., not by their multitude slightly passing o­ver the truth, but perfiting in every one of these things what is most proper for them, as if shee busied her selfe but about that same one thing.

§ 6. Every picture consisting of many figures must needs have some historicall part in it, seeing it is but a dull and un­profitable thing when many schemes are heaped up toge­ther without either sense or learning: it is ever requisite that the very figures which are represented in the worke, should teach us by a speechlesse discourse what connexion there is in them: but because in every historicall relation the things that are a doing are ever most remarkable, so is it that an understanding and warie Artificer doth ever as­signe the principall place unto the principall figures which have the chiefest hand in the represented action. Wee are e­ever to beginne with what is chiefe, sayth Quintilian Orat. instit. lib. III, cap. 9., neither doth any man, that is to make a picture or statue, take his be­ginning [Page 312] at the feet. As for the other circumstances, he fitteth them afterwards unto severall places, representing them a farre off in smaller figures, and sometimes also involving them and shutting them up as it were in a certaine kinde of mist: The Painter hath shed a mist about the other things, sayth Philostratus Iconum lib. II, in In­sulis., that they might rather resemble things alreadie done, then things that are a doing. Wee need not insist any longer upon this point, seeing it is cleare enough. Thus much onely doe wee thinke it good to advertise the Artifi­cer, that it is alwayes his safest course to make an end of the principall figures whilest his minde is readie and fresh; see­ing Euphranor his mis-hap may teach him how dangerous it is to delay any of the principall figures till the heat of his first spirit be consumed and spent upon other figures: though Nature doth very often suffer Art to emulate her strength, sayth Valer. Maximus Lib. VIII. cap. 11. ex. ext. 5., yet sometimes doth shee frustrate and shame the Art tired with an unprofitable toile. Euphranor his hand felt this: for when he did paint the twelve Gods at Athens, he did bestow the most excellent colours of majestie upon Nep­tunes image, intending to make Jupiter his picture somewhat more majesticall; but having spent the wholforce of his thoughts about the former worke, he could never raise his latter endea­vours to the intended height.

§ 7. Although wee doe hold that a full and copious ar­gument is most capable of a neat and praise-worthy Dispo­sition, yet can we not thinke that those make good use of the plenteousnesse of the conceived matter, who finding great varietie of persons, places, and actions, picke out one or other thing wherein their imperfect skill might chiefly exercise and hide it selfe, studying alwayes upon every oc­casion to patch up their defective Disposition with some­thing they are best used to: A poore and ridiculous Painter, [Page 313] who kn [...]w almost nothing else but how to paint a Cypresse tree, sayth Acron In Hor. de Arte., being desired by one that had suffered ship­wracke, to draw him, and the whole resemblance of his most mi­serable mis-fortune, asked instantly, whether he would not have a Cypresse tree painted among the rest. But this is not the way of Art; a sound and uncorrupt way of art is best allowed of, when it useth all the strength it hath, when it leaveth no­thing unattempted, but goeth boldly in hand with the whole matter. It is therefore an infallible signe of a confes­sed weakenesse, when a painter meeting with an aboundant and pleasant history, findeth himselfe so much frighted and overcharged with the very weight of the matter, as that he dareth not undertake to beautifie every part of that order which floweth out of the nature of things, but bestoweth all his skil & care upon the shield of some famous Captain offered in the story, or else upon a cave delicately oversha­dowed with Ivy, Lawrel, Myrtle. These shifts & by-ways, sayth Quintil. Orat. instit. li. i [...], cap. 2. are meer refuges to shelter our infirmitie: even as they who canot make their course good by running out-right, are put to it to help themselves by turning and winding. Others though they doe not intend to abuse the spectators, and to divert their eyes by such gay and glorious toyes, from spy­ing the defaults of their disposition, yet doth their grosse ig­norance drive them unto the same inconveniences; Beeing like unto a servingman newly inriched with an inheritance lately left him by his Master, sayth Lucian De con­scrib. hist., that knows not how to put on a goodly coat handsomely, and transgresseth the lawes of banqueting upon every occasion, falling hastily to his victu­als, as if he meant to burst his belly with some plain houshold pottage and course salt meats: wheras he might very well feed upon pullets, pork, hare.

§ 8. A true Artist maketh choice of a full and copious [Page 314] argument, because hee findeth it more agreeable with his vast and unstayed understanding, to entertaine the freenes of his phansie, and to exercise the excellencie of his Art in every part of the conceived matter. Hee shrinketh at no­thing, but loveth to goe boldly and confidently over the whole history. He cannot abide to have his phansie pinned up within the narrow compasse of a poor and needy inven­tion; assuring himselfe, that in such an abundance of things his wit and skill shall shew themselves more aboundantly. So doth Philostratus Icon. li. II. in Rhodog. teach us, That this variety of schemes and actions addeth unto the picture a most pleasant grace­fulnesse. Those painters likewise were ever held in greatest admiration, which adventured to adde the grace of a judicious and orderly disposition, to the most gracefull and commendable varietie of matter. Whereas others, though never so excellent in small pieces, are always to seek when one or other occasion putteth them upon a more co­pious argument. They are not able to save their former credit, when they doe meet with any more grave & serious matter. Being like unto some small creatures, sayth Quintili­an Orat. in stit. li. xii. cap. 2., which are exceeding quick and nimble in narrow places, but are caught in an open field. Demetrius Phalereus his words are very remarkeable: Nicias the painter maintained, sayth he De elocut. § 76., That it is no small part of the art of painting, to take a matter sufficiently great, and so to paint, without min­cing the art into small parcels, as little birds or flowers. Hee held therefore that a rare workman had better busie his skill a­bout some famous horse-battels or sea-fights, wherein many se­verall postures of horses might be expressed, some running, some standing upright, some falling downe upon their knees; some horsemen also shooting, some falling downe to the ground. For he was of opinion, that the argument it selfe is as well a part of [Page 315] Picture, as Fables are granted to be a part of Poësie.

§ 9. It is then certaine, that an extraordinary force of Art sheweth it selfe most in an extraordinary argument, so loveth the best skill alwayes to busie it selfe about the best matter. But seeing the Artificers intend nothing so much with the whole labour of their art, as to leave unto the fol­lowing Ages an opinion of wit and art; it is likewise evi­dent, that the worke requireth a round, and not interrup­ted continuance: all the parts of it must be connected, easi­ly rolling on, and gently flowing or rather following one another, after the manner of them that goe hand in hand to strengthen their pace; they hold and are held. For a Workeman shall never be esteemed judicious and witty, so long as there appeare in his work some broken and abrupt­ly dismembred passages. Even as they are deservedly laugh­ed at, who going about to tell a tale doe nothing but stutte and stammer, belching out some abrupt & pittifully chopt speeches. Where naked joynts are propounded, sayth Seneca Lib. I. con­trov. in pro­oemio., it is instantly manifest, if either the number or the order have not their due. What in other works useth to be rude, loose, and scattered, is ever in a good and perfect worke, well grounded, finely framed, and strongly trussed up together. The whole period and compasse of the represented history is so delightsome for the equable roundnesse of compositi­on, and so grave for the seemely simplicity of handling and framing the matter, that it may bee perceived even of the least, liked of the most, understood and judged only of the Learned. Which default, when as some endeavor to salve and recure in their workes; they patch up the holes with pieces and ragges borrowed of other mens inventions, cor­rupting the whole frame of their worke, and making it like unto an ill relished gallamaufrey or hodge-podge, of several [Page 316] and very much disagreeing things.

Yet can these men finde in their hearts to boast, as if some instinct of an elevated spirit had newly ravished them a­bove the meannesse of common capacities. But sometimes, being in the middest of their bravery, suddenly either for want of matter, or skill in ordering the matter, sometimes also for having lost their former conceit loosely hanging together, they are very much pained and travelled in their remembrance, not knowing which way to turne them­selves. To let these ragged and raking painters alone, I wil content my selfe to say thus much onely, That a picture is so much the worse, how much the better the sence and art of the scattered parts might bee if they were well ordered; seeing the neglects committed in the disposition, are disco­vered by the lightsomenesse of the things themselves; and whatsoever doth not hang well together, bewrayeth it selfe as well by an inequalitie of colour, as by the clefts and gaps appearing in a mis-joyned worke. Quintil. xii. 9.

§ 10. Moreover, when we recommend a most copi­ous argument unto the laborious care of an ingenious and industrious artificer, we do not commend their arrogance, who disdaine to meddle with any meane matters, seeing a man may very well shew his wit in small matters also, sayth Paulus Silentarius, lib. IV, Graec. Epigrammatum, cap. 32.

Neither do we thinke well of them, which meeting with a thin and spare argument, use to besmeare it round about with many fine by-workes, set forth in glorious and glaring colours; sometimes also piecing and inlarging it in the mid­dest with a great number of farre fetcht additions, altoge­ther disagreeing from the matter in hand: for all such things spoyle the whole frame of the worke, and make it totter, though they seeme to strengthen and augment it. See Ho­race [Page 317] in his Art Poëticall. And Dionysius Longinus de sublimi Oratione, §. 8.

Great masters use sometimes to blaze and to pourtray in most excellent pictures, not onely the dainty lineaments of beauty, but they use also to shadow round about it rude thickets and craggy rockes, that by the horridnesse of such parts there might accrue a more excellent grace to the prin­cipall: even as a discord in musicke maketh now and then a comely concordance: and it falleth out very often, that the most curious spectators finde themselves, I know not how, singularly delighted with such a disorderly order of a counterfeited rudenesse. If therefore any one loveth to follow the example of that same Pamphilus, who, as Tully Lib. III, de Orat. reporteth, was wont to paint greatmatters in the middest of some garlands and labels, even as if they had been some childish recreations and pastimes, let him see how he speedeth with it. Great and exquisite masters chuse rather to unfold great matters of argument covertly, than professing it, not to be able to performe it accordingly. They do not study to produce smoke out of light, but light out of smoke, sayth Horace De Arte Poet., to the end that they might effect specious miracles. And again in the same treatise; I shall take ordinary matters in hand, that every one may hope to doe the same. And yet is he likely to sweat much, and to lose all his labour, whosoever dareth attempt it: so much grace doe mean and ordinary things receive from a good and orderly cannexion.

§ 11 The chiefest benefit Picture receiveth by a good and orderly collocation of the figures, is Perspicuitie: and sure it is, that a neat and convenient disposition doth no lesse advance the evidence and perspicuitie of the Worke, than Life and Motion is able to doe. Let perspicuitie shew it self every where in the worke, sayth Lucian De Con­scrib. hist., procured by [Page 318] the mutuall connexion of things: for it will make every thing compleat and perfect. The first being wrought, bringeth in the second which followeth: and this second is so linked together with the first: that there is no interruption between them both; no more are they severall narrations joyned together, seeing the first doth keepe such good neighborhood and correspondence with the second, that their extremities communicate and mix them­selves one with another. Plutarch having related how Ara­tus freed the Pellenenses from the invasion of the Thessali­ans, This was accounted a very famous deed, sayth hee In Arato., and Timanthes the painter made the battell most apparantly to be seen, for the good disposition used in the worke. The younger Philostratus also in his picture of the Huntsmen, commen­deth that piece principally for the perspicuous disposition it had. Good gods, sayth he In Venat., how wonderfull and how sweet is the perspicuitie of the picture! it is easie to see therein every one his fortune. The seat suddenly made of nets cast in heapes, receiveth the chiefest masters of the sport, which are five. You cannot but marke the middlemost, how he row sing himselfe tur­neth to his fellowes, as if he meant to acquaint them with what he had done, and how he had first thrown down one of the Deere, &c. Who listeth, may see in the elder and younger Philo­stratus many most accurat expressions of pictures commen­dable for their elegancie of disposition.

§ 12. Disposition, as it is the worke of an accurate proportion, observeth more particularly the distance of the figures, and of the severall parts of figures. The neerenesse that is betweene this kinde of disposition and proportion, mooved Pliny to call it by the name of Symmetry. Apelles, sayth he Lib. xxxv. cap. 10., was mightily taken with Asclepiodorus his Sym­metry. For in saying so, hee doth insinuate nothing else, but that Apelles could not come neere Asclepiodorus for [Page 319] measures, that is, what distance there ought to be betweene fi­gure and figure, as the same Pliny speaketh a little before. What concerneth this Disposition, we have no rule for it, our eye must teach us here what to do When the Artificers put many figures together upon one boord, sayth Quintil. Li. viii. c. 5. they distinguish them by their severall places, lest the shadows should fall upon the bodies. But these places, fayth the same Author elsewhere Lib. ix, c. 4., being here of great force, doe not admit any other judgement but the judgement of our eyes. Having therefore al­ready set downe some rules for that same generall dispositi­on, which floweth out of the nature of the invented mat­ter, wee should now likewise adde something concerning this particular Disposition, but that we find it wholly to be the worke of a most curiously diligent and judicious eye. So doth the neatnesse and handsomnesse of this disposition chiefely discover the Artificers judicious industry, or ra­ther his laborious paine, as Philostratus speaketh: Let us consider the laborious paine of the painter, sayth he Icon. lib. 1. in Pelope., for it is no small trouble, in my opinion, to geare foure horses together, and not so much as to confound any of their legges, howsoever their gentlenesse be not without fiercenesse. The one standeth stil, shewing himself loth to stand: the other goeth about to carvet. In the third you may see a ready willingnesse to obey. The fourth rejoyceth in Pelops his beauty, inlarging his nosthrils as if he were a neighing, &c.

You may observe in the picture of Menaecus a world of schemes rightly placed. The walls for all that of the City Thebes yeeld us a most notable example of this particular Disposition. The painters device is very sweet and pleasant, sayth the elder Philostratus Icon. lib. 1. in Menaec., for having filled the city wals with armed men, he maketh it so, that some are seen at their ful length, the legs of some are hidden, others do but shew their [Page 320] halfe bodies, their breasts, their heads, their head-pieces, their spear-heads. These things are nothing els but a certaine kinde of Proportion, seeing the eye must be beguiled after this manner whilst it passeth on through and with a convenient distance of such circles. Though all the figures represented in the pi­cture of Hesione kept their just distance, yet was there a more peculiar way of art observed in the disposition of the several parts of the sea-monster: The sea-monster winding it selfe, sayth the younger Philostratus In Hesio., not in one round, but with many and severall turnings, some parts of it were seen in the water, refusing to be accurately discerned by reason of their deepnesse; some againe did rise to such a height, that any one who is unexperienced in sea matters, would have taken them for little Islands, &c. The properties belonging to the disposition of things seene in the water, are more fully expressed in the following words: The colours of the fishes ap­pear in the azure-coloured sea, sayth the elder Philostratus Icon. lib. I. in Piscator.: the uppermost seem to be black: the next to them come somwhat short of that blacknes: the rest deceiveth our fight, being first shadowy, then waterish, and at length conceivable only. For our sight descending deep into the water, groweth dim, and will not suffer us to discern accuratly what is underneath. The same Philostratus in the description of Olympus his picture doth also teach us, That it is no small piece of workmanship to hit the true posture of such figures as do represent their owne image in the water. Of the inversion of the figures repre­sented in the water or in a looking glasse, see Ausonius, in Mosella. And Agell. lib. xvi. noct. Attic. cap. 18.


SOme things, though they are very pleasing in their severall parts, sayth Quintilian Orat. instit. lib. IV, cap. 2., yet doth not the whole accord with the parts. A pi­cture therefore may very well bee com­mended for the excellencie of invention, Proportion, Colour, Life, Disposition, and yet want that comely gracefulnesse, which is the life and soule of Art. These five heads, handled immediately before, do not suffer themselves to be severed; one alone will not serve; no more will two, or three, or four of them; they must go all joyntly hand in hand: if there bee but one wanting, it is to small purpose that wee should busie our selves over-much about the rest. The consummation of a picture consisteth chiefely therin, that these five heads con­curring, and lovingly conspiring, should breath forth a certain kinde of grace, most commonly called the aire of the picture: which in it selfe is nothing else but a sweet consent of all manner of perfections heaped up in one piece: the best collection of the best things.

Like divers flours, whose divers beauties serve
To deck the earth with his well-coloured weed,
Though each of them his privat form preserve,
Yet joyning forms, one sight of beauty breed:

sayth a noble and famous Poët Sir Philip Sidney in the third Booke of his Arcadia.. Seeing then that a witty invention doth gently allure our minde, a neat proportion doth readily draw our eyes, a convenient colour doth pleasingly beguile our phansie, a lively motion doth forci­bly [Page 322] stirre our soul, an orderly disposition doth wonderfully charme all our senses; how shall not that picture have great power over our mind and spirits, in the which all these per­fections are most sweetly united into one? The body of a man is not instantly esteemed gracefull and comely, when as every part of it seemeth to bee of a goodly feature; but when the perfection of every part produceth a perfectly well favoured comelinesse in his whole shape and posture. A body therefore may very well be faire, and yet want this gracefull comelinesse, which ravisheth the eye of the be­holders, by beautifying beauty it selfe. So doth Ovid Lib. II, de Arte. say, That there was in the beauty of Venus a sufficient mixture of grace. And Suetonius In Nerone, cap. 51. reporteth of Nero, That his body was rather faire than comely. Beauty doth not alwayes beget liking; it is onely Grace which maketh faire ones fairer than faire, by the lovely and delicate sweetnesse of a winning favour. In beautifull bodies grace is the life of beauty. Catullus observeth this difference in a comparison he maketh betweene Quintia and Lesbia. Many, sayth he Carm. 87., hold Quintia to be fairer: she is in my opinion, white, tall, and streight. These particulars I do confesse; as for the whole, that she should be beautifull, I deny that; seeing in such a great body of hers there is no comelinesse at all, no not one crum of plea­santnesse. Lesbia is beautifull indeed; for as shee is perfectly fair, so hath she likewise stollen away all manner of graces from them that are most beautifull. Tibullus Lib. iv. Eleg. 2. doth also commend the beauty of Sulpitia, for the most comely demeanour it had; seeing she could do nothing, she could stir no where, but that her beauty was still waited upon by a certain kinde of lovely grace, which did stealingly accompany her in all her actions, adding a most sweet and pleasing life to her na­tive perfections. Claudia Rufina an English Lady endued [Page 323] with many extraordinary gifts of nature, is likewise com­mended by Martial Lib. xi. E­pigr. 54., for having added to these good parts all the Graces which either Greece or Rome were able to affoord. The case standeth even thus with picture: unlesse there bee in the worke that same ayre and comely Grace, which is made up by the concord and agreement of severall accomplished parts, it cannot please the beholder. Even as a lute cannot delight the hearer, unlesse all the strings from the highest to the lowest being well tuned, strike the eare with the sweet harmony of a disagreeing agreement. Apelles was excellent at this: for though that age wherein he lived was very well stored with all manner of rare workemen, yet did he attribute this glory especially unto himselfe: having therefore commended the other Artificers sufficiently, hee did not sticke to say, that they did lacke this Grace, though they had all other good qualities belonging to that art. See Pliny, xxxv. 10. Where the peerelesse artificer under­standeth by this Grace, nothing else but a peculiar perfecti­on of the Invention, Proportion, Colour, Motion, Dispo­sition, so diffused through the whole work, that the picture we see doth not so much ravish our senses with the Inven­tion, Proportion, Colour, Motion, Disposition, as they are compleat and perfect in themselves, but rather as they bring all their peculiar perfections together, to atchieve the high­est perfection of an universall Grace indifferently, shewing it selfe in the whole worke, and in every part of it.

§ 2. This is questionlesse that grace, which readily and freely proceeding out of the Artificers spirit, cannot be taught by any rules of art: no more can assiduity of impor­tunate studies helpe us to it. Whatsoever is excessive is faul­ty, sayth Quintilian Orat. instit. li. viii. cap. 3.. Too much care therefore is rather like to spoyle the comely sweetnesse of this Grace, than to [Page 324] advance it; and whensoever we doe but begin to streighten the freenesse of it by an unseasonable and over curious nice­nesse of studying, the decent comelinesse of the work is in­stantly gone and lost. Whatsoever doth not become the mat­ter, cannot please, sayth Quintilian Orat. instit. lib. I, c. 11.. Every thing therefore which filleth the nature of the matter well enough, sayth the same Author elsewhere Orat. instit. lib. XI, cap. 1., loseth the grace it hath, unlesse it be tempered with a certaine kinde of moderation: and a man may sooner feele the observation of this point in his own privat judgement, than learne it by precepts. What is sufficient, and how much the present argument may receive, cannot be prescri­bed by measure and weight; seeing it is here as it is with meats, the one filleth us more than another. Hence it is that many, upon whom Nature hath somewhat niggardly bestowed her best gifts, make good shift to use them soberly and wise­ly, so at least that they might not mis-become them, sayth Tul­ly Lib. I, de Oratore.; for this is most of all to be avoided, and it is not easie to give precepts of this one thing. Roscius sayth often in my hea­ring, that to become is the principal point of art, and this is the only thing which cannot be procured by Art. It is true, that art cannot procure this, yet doth it ever proceed & flow out of the force of a hidden and warily concealed art: seeing, No­thing can be effected without art, and decencie doth alwayes ac­company Art. Do we not see how those darts fly most handsom­ly, which are hurled out most cunningly? Such archers likewise as have the surest hand, use withall to loose their arrowes in a more comely manner, sayth Quintilian Orat. instit. lib. IX, cap. 4.. It remaineth then that we hold this grace to be the worke of a wisely dissem­bled art. But if any man wil needs beleeve, that such a high perfection is the fruit of a fertile and forward nature, the same must for all that grant us, that in this nature it self there shall be some kind of art, as the same Quintilian speaketh Ibidem.. [Page 325] For these two, I mean Nature and Art, are so close coupled together, that the one may not be separated from the other, if we doe intend to save the comelinesse of the worke: and whosoever meaneth to expresse the nature of this mightie and most characteristicall vertue, the same must call it with Dionysius Halicarnassensis In Lysia., either a certaine felicitie of Na­ture, or a worke of labour and Art, or else a habit and facultie arising out of the mixture of them both: even as Dionysius Lon­ginus De sublimi orat. § 32. maintaineth that the perfection consisteth in a mutuall coherence of these two: see the fourth Chapter of our First booke, where wee doe speake something more of Nature and Art concurring to the constitution & accomplishment of the Art.

§ 3. It is then most evident what a hard taske they un­dertake, which go about to recommend their memories to the following age by one or other absolute piece of work­manship: seeing that this gracefull comelinesse is not suffi­cient to the worke, unlesse there doe moreover appeare in it some succesfull effects of a bold and confident Facilitie. After that Plinie, as it is quoted in the first section of this present chapter, hath related how Apelles did challenge un­to himselfe the chiefest praise in this point of Grace above all other Artificers, he goeth further on to something else; Apelles did also take on him another praise, sayth he, when he did admire Protogenes his worke done with excessive paines and too much care: for he said that Protogenes in all other things was equall with him, or rather better then he thought himselfe to be: but that Protogenes in one thing was farre in­ferior to him, because he knew not when to hold his hand: insi­nuating by this memorable precept, that too much diligence is oftentimes hurtfull. Plutarch doth likewise make a distin­ction betweene the fore-mentioned Grace and this same [Page 326] bold Facilitie: the verses of Antimachus, sayth he In Timole­onte., and the pictures of Dionysius, who both were Colophonians, having vehemencie and intension, seeme to be forcibly expressed and too much belaboured: but Nicomachus his pictures and Homer his verses have this also besides all the other efficacie and grace which is in them, that you would thinke them made out of hand with much ease. Soth doth then this excellent perfection of Grace waxe more gracefull, when it is accompanied with an unconstrained Facilitie proceeding out of the unstayed motions which use to stirre and to impell the free spirit of a most resolute Artificer; whereas an unresolved and timo­rous lingerer doth on the contrary deface and utterly over­throw all the hope of Grace. Wee are to consider in every thing, How farre forth it is to be followed, sayth Tullie In Oratore., for although every thing ought to consist within its owne measure; what is too much useth for all that to offend us more, than what is too little. Apelles therefore was wont to say, that those Pain­ters mistake themselves in this point, who know not what is e­nough. Apollodorus the clay-worker being most diligent in his art, had such an ill opinion of himselfe, that he did of­tentimes breake finished images, not being able to satisfie his desire of Art: he was therefore surnamed Apollodorus the mad, Plinie xxxiv, 8. Callimachus was ever wont to finde fault with his works, and knew no end of diligence; he was therefore called Cacozitechnus; leaving us a memorable ex­ample of moderating our care. He made the dancing Lace­daemonian women; a most accomplished worke, sayth Plinie in the same place, but that diligence defaceth in it the whole Grace of the workmanship. Picture therefore must follow a bold and carelesse way of art, or it must at least make a shew of carelesnesse in many things. Philostratus propoundeth unto us a lively example of this same secure and unlaboured [Page 327] Facilitie, when he describeth the picture of many little Cu­pids wantonly hunting a hare, and carelesly tumbling on heaps for the eagernesse of their sportfull chace; the Cupids doe laugh and fall downe, sayth he Iconum lib. I, in Amo­ribus., one on his side, another on his face, some on their backes, and all of them in postures shew­ing how they missed their prey. It cannot be conceived other­wise, but that the Grace of this picture was infinitly graced with the confused falls of the lascivious and pampered little ones, as they were negligently represented in the worke by such another seeming error of a temerary and confidently carelesse Art.

§ 4. A heavie and difficult diligence doth then marre and quite kill the grace of the worke; whereas a light and nim­ble Facilitie of working addeth life to the worke: and it concerneth an Artificer very much that he should resolve to do with ease whatsoever he doth: see our second book, cap. XI, § 7, where we touch this point a little. I must needs adde thus much onely, that never any Painter was ranked with the better sort of Artists, except learning, studie, and exercitation had first enabled him with this Facilitie, sayth Quintilian Orat. instit. lib. XII, cap. 9.. A plaine and unaffected simplicitie, sayth the same Author Lib. VIII, cap. 3., is commendable for a certain kinde of pure or­nament it hath, and for a certain kind of neatnesse which see­meth to proceed out of a slender diligence, and is lovely even in women. The Assyrian Semiramis, as Aelianus Var. hist. lib. VII, cap. 1. reporteth, was the fairest of all women living, though shee did very much neglect her beautie: there is a certaine kind of negli­gent diligence, sayth Tullie In Oratore., so doth want of ornament make many women more comely. Beautie when it is set forth too carefully, is no beautie. Wee are therefore above all things to take good heed that there do not appeare in our works a laborious gaynesse and an over-curious affectation of grace; [Page 322] [...] [Page 323] [...] [Page 324] [...] [Page 325] [...] [Page 326] [...] [Page 327] [...] [Page 328] since it is most certaine that such a poore and silly affectati­on of finenesse doth but weaken and breake the generous endeavours of a thoroughly heated spirit; besides that too much diligence useth to make the worke worse. Things not farre fetched are alwayes best; because they doe best agree with the simplicitie and truth of Nature. Whatsoever doth on the contrary bewray an excessive care and studie, can ne­ver be gracefull and comely; because it dazeleth our senses with the resplendent beames of gay-seeming things, not suffering them to see what is in the worke; even as ranke grasse doth sometimes over-spread a whole field in such a­bundance, that all the good corne being choked up cannot so much as peepe out. Amending it selfe, sayth Quintilian Orat. instit. lib. X, ca. 4., must have an end: there are some which return to every part of their worke, as if all were faultie; they thinke better of every thing which is not the same, even as if it were unlawfull that the first conceits should ever be good: they doe altogether follow the practice of those Physicians which seeke worke by slashing and cutting what was sound and whole: it falleth out therefore that their workes are full of skars, void of bloud, and never a whit the better for all the care bestowed upon them. It is then fit that there should be something at length which might please us, or at least content us; that all our filing might be found rather to po­lish the worke then to weare it out: see the younger Plinie lib. IX, epist. 35. To be short; as in many other Arts the maine strength of Art doth principally consist in the warie concealement of Art; so doth the chiefest force and power of the Art of painting especially consist therein, that it may seeme no Art. But we cannot endure this, sayth Orat. instit. lib. IV, cap. 2. Quintilian, and we thinke the Art lost, unlesse it doe appeare; whereas it doth rather cease to be an Art, when it is too apparent. Ovid doth well and properly expresse this point in the fable of [Page 329] Pygmalion x. Metam., attributing the cause of the heart-ravishing force which was in that image to Pygmalion his skill of con­cealing the Art in such a notable piece of Art.

§ 5. It is now evident enough that the chiefest comeli­nesse of this Grace consisteth in a readie and unconstrained Facilitie of Art: and if wee doe but marke it, there are in this gracefull facilitie such hidden treasures of all manner of contentment, that even the better sort of men love to feed their greedy eyes with such a goodly sight. A picture there­fore which stirreth no admiration in the heart of the be­holders, doth hardly deserve the name of a picture; even as men of understanding hold him onely to be Artificer, who is able to expresse abundantly, accuratly, pleasantly, lively, and distinctly, whatsoever his learned Invention hath sug­gested unto him. This is that vertue which gathereth great rings of amazed spectators together; which carrieth them into an astonished extasie, their sense of seeing bereaving them of all other senses; which by a secret veneration ma­keth them stand tongue-tyed, the greatnesse of admiration leaving no place for many applauses, sayth Symmachus Lib. 10. Epist. 22.. In­credible things finde no voice; sayth Quintilian Decl. xix., somethings are greater, then that any mans discourse should be able to com­passe them. Marke Damascius, I pray you, and learne of him what strange effects the sight of Venus dedicated by Herodes wrought in him. I fell into a sweat, sayth he Ap. Photiū., for the very horror and perplexitie of my mind: I felt my soule so much tou­ched with the lively sense of delightsomnesse, that it was not in my power to goe home; and when I went, I found my selfe forced to caste backe mine eyes now and then to the sight. It chanceth therefore very often that the truest Lovers of art, meeting with some rare piece of workmanship, stand for a while speechlesse: see Callistratus in his second description of [Page 330] Praxiteles his Cupid: yet afterwards, having now by little and little recovered their straying senses, they breake vio­lently forth in exclaming praises, and speake with the most abund nt expressions an eye-ravished spectator can possibly devise. When they observe in the picture of Pasiphaë how the little Cupids busie themselves with sawing the timber; the Cupids that are a sawing, say they, surpasse all apprehension and art which may be performed by the hands of men and by co­lours: marke well, I pray you, the sawe goeth into the wood, and is now alreadie drawne thorough it: these Cupids draw it; and one of them standeth on the ground, the other upon a frame, &c. see Philostratus, Iconum lib. I, in Pasiphaë. Having conside­red in the picture of Pindarus his nativitie the severall ef­fects of a most exquisite art, they cannot forbeare to give unto the standers by a little smack of that sweetnesse which doth so much affect their senses; you cannot but wonder at the bees, say they, so delicatly painted, &c. see Philostratus, Iconum lib. II, in Pindaro. The picture of Penelope likewise doth not only take them with the sight of that famous web, but they fall also upon a little spider which sheweth it selfe hard by; to represent the spider so delicatly after the life, say they, and to paint her laborious net, is the worke of a good Ar­tificer, and of such a one as is well acquainted with the truth of things &c. see Philostratus Iconum lib. II, in Telis. They doe in the picture of the dying Panthia amazedly observe, how her nailes are sweeter than any picture. Philostratus Iconum lib. II, in Panthiâ: and Philostra. junior in Venatoribus. They shew in the picture representing an ivory Venus, how the dancing Nymphs are most divinely expressed. Philostratus Iconum lib. II, in Venere. When they see the golden gar­ment of Venus, they finde themselves most of all ravished with the seame of her coates, which may sooner be conceived [Page 331] than seene. Philostr. junior in Ludibundis. They perceive in the marble image of the revelling Baccha all the properties of a distracted mind; there did shine in her such notable signes of the passion, tempered by an unspeakable way of art. Callistra­tus in Bacchae statuâ. Narcissus his marble image maketh them Narcissus-like astonished; it cannot be expressed with words, say they, how a stone should be so loosened as to represent the good plight of youthfull vigour, exhibiting a bodie contrary to its owne substance: for being of a more solide nature, it engen­dreth in our minde the sense of a soft and delicate tendernesse, being gently diffused and made to rise after the manner of a swelling bodie. Callistratus in Narcissi statuâ. When they behold the brasen statue of Cupid; doe not you see, say they, how the brasse admitteth a tender fluidnesse, unfeisably fore­going the hardnesse of his nature and suffering it selfe to be sof­tened to the likenesse of a full-fleshed bodie? Callistratus in pri­mâ descriptione Cupidinis Praxitelici.

§ 6. Pictures which are judged sweeter then any pi­cture, pictures surpassing the apprehension and Art of man, workes that are sayd to be done by an unspeakable way of Art, delicatly, divinely, unfeisably, &c. insinuate nothing els but that there is something in them which doth not pro­ceed from the laborious curiositie prescribed by the rules of Art, and that the free spirit of the Artificer marking how Nature sporteth her selfe in such an infinite varietie of things, undertooke to doe the same. The hand of Myron, sayth Statius Papinius Lib. I, Sylv in Tiburti­to Manli Vepisci., played in brasse. Myron therefore, when he wrought, seemed but to play: no more did his workes professe a laborious and painfull way of Art, but a man might perceive in them such a sweet Grace of an unaffected Facilitie, as if the Artificer youthfully playing had made them. The younger Philostratus useth the same manner of [Page 332] speaking; the Painter, sayth he In Orphco., playeth youthfully: see Cal­listratus also in his description of the statue of Memnon: for Philostratus and Callistratus use both one word; which signifieth, to doe a thing with such courage, pleasantnesse and ease, that the worke may be perceived to proceede out of a lusty and vigorous youthfulnesse: and certainly, the chiefest and most lively force of Art consisteth herein, that there appeare in the worke that same prosperously prompt and fertile Facilitie which useth to accompany our first en­deavours: this is the very life and spirit of Art; which if it be extinguished with too much care of trimming, the whole work wil be but a dead & lifelesse thing We did speak hither­to, sayth Plinie Li. [...]xxv. cap. 5., of the dignitie of the dying Art: he speaks wel & properly, when he calleth the Art as it was a decaying, a dying Art: seeing we have shewed above, lib. II. cap 6. that these Arts being anciently perfited by the study and care of many & most consummate artificers, came so low about the times of August, that they were ready to give their last gasp: for in that very time, the vices prevailing, the Art perished; and when the Artificers, leaving the simplicitie of the anci­ents, beganne to spend themselves in garnishing of their works, the art grew stil worse & worse, til it was at last over­throwne by a childishly frivolous affectation of gaynesse.

§ 7. Having now seene alreadie wherein the chiefe comelinesse of Grace doth consist, and how by a glorious conquest it doth sweetly enthrall and captivate the hearts of men with the lovely chaines of due admiration and a­mazement; having likewise considered by the way that this Grace hath no greater enemy than affectation; it is left one­ly that we should examine, by what means it may be obtai­ned: although we dare not presume to give any precepts of it; which in the opinion of Tully and Quintilian is altoge­ther [Page 333] impossible: since it is certaine, that this grace is not a perfection of art proceeding meerley from art, but rather a perfection proceeding from a consummate art, as it busi­eth it selfe about things that are sutable to our nature. So must then art and nature concur to the constitution of this Grace. A perfect art must be wisely applied to what we are most given to by nature. Whosoever hath perfect skill in these Arts loveth alwayes to be doing: and though a good artificer be likely to doe well, or at least tolerably, in every thing he taketh in hand; yet is it certaine, that he shall doe better, and come neerest to this comelinesse of Grace, when the excellencie of his art busieth it selfe, not with such things as he loatheth, nor with such things as hee is indiffe­rently affected unto; but with such things as are most agree­able with his nature & inward disposition. We are to follow our own nature, sayth Tul. Li. I. de Offic. and we are to measure our studies by the rule of our nature: for it is to no purpose, that we should strive against nature, and follow a thing we canot attain to. This makes it also more appear, what maner of comlinesse this is, see­ing nothing can be decent & comly in spight (as the cōmon say­ing is) of Minerva, that is, our nature not giving way to it. Up­on this contemplation we had need to examine what every one hath of his own, & to make use of that, without trying any fur­ther how the things which are peculiar to other men might becom us: for that becoms every man best, what is most his own. Let e­very man therefore know his owne nature, and be a severe judge of what is good and bad in himselfe; lest the Scenicall artificers peradventure might seem warier than we: seeing they doe not always chuse the best fables, but such as are fittest for them. They that do rely upon their voyce, chuse Epigonos and Medea. They that do rely upon their gesture, chuse Menalippa, Clytemne­stra. Rupilius did alwayes act Antiopa. Aesopus did seldom [Page 334] act Ajax. We shall therefore chiefely bestow our labour about these things, to the which we do find our selves aptest. If in the mean time one or other necessary occasion driveth us to those things which are somwhat abhorring from our nature, wee are then to bend all our care, meditation, diligence, that we might do these things, if not decently, yet with as little undecency as pos­sibly can be; studying always more to shun faults, than to hunt after such vertues as are not affoorded us by nature. See the fourth chapter of our first booke, where wee do insist more generally upon this point.


WE have seene that the height of Art doth chiefely consist in the fore-mentioned Grace; and that this Grace must proceed from the perfections of an accurate inven­tion, Proportion, Colour, Life, Dispositi­on, not onely as each of them is perfect in it selfe severally, but as generally out of the mutuall agree­ment of them all, there doth appeare in the whole worke, and in every part of it, a certaine kinde of gracefull plea­santnesle: We have seene likewise, that this Grace is not the worke of a troublesome and scrupulous study, but that it is rather perfected by the unaffected facility of an excel­lent art and forward nature equally concurring to the worke; so is it most certaine, that never any artificer could attaine the least shadow of this grace, without the mutuall support of Art and Nature: nature is to follow the directi­ons [Page 335] of art, even as art is to follow the prompt readinesse of our forward nature. Seeing then that this grace can never be accomplished, unlesse all these things doe meet in the worke; so is it likewise evident, that even the selfe same things are requisite to the discovering of the Grace. The way of begetting is the onely way of judging. Whatsoever is not sought in his owne way, sayth Cassiodorus De divin. lection. ca. 28, can ne­ver be traced perfectly. They therefore doe exceedingly mistake, who thinke it an easie matter to finde out and to discerne such a high poynt of these profound arts. This in­imitable grace, equally diffused and dispersed through the whole worke, as it is not had so easily, cannot be discerned so easily. Whether a picture be copious, learned, magnifi­cent, admirable, sufficiently polished, sweet, whether the af­fections and passions are therin seasonably represented, can­not bee perceived in any one part; the whole worke must shew it. Dionys. Longinus speaketh well to the purpose when he sayth De subl. O­rat. § 1., We see the skil of invention, the order and disposition of things, as it sheweth it self, not in one or two parts only, but in the whole composition of the worke, and that hard­ly too.

§ 2. A way then with all those, who thinke it enough if they can but confidently usurpe the authority belonging onely to them that are well skilled in these arts: it will not serve their turne, that they doe sometimes with a censori­ous brow reject, & somtimes with an affected gravity com­mend the workes of great masters: the neat and polished age wherein we live will quickly finde them out. So did the selfe-conceited Megabyzus, when hee was sitting in Zeuxis his shop, presume to prattle something about matters of art, even as if his big lookes and purple coat should have made his unadvised discourses good; but he found himself very [Page 336] much deceived: seeing Zeuxis did not sticke to tell him to his face, that he was both admired & reverenced of all that saw him, as long as he held his peace: whereas now having begun to speake senselesly, hee was laughed at even of the boyes that did grinde colours. See Aelian. Var. hist. lib. II. cap. 2. This is then no jeasting matter, we must examine with a circumspect and judicious earnestnesse, whether the knitting together of severall things represented within the compasse of one table, be round without roughnesse, and learned without hardnesse: besides that, we are to consider more distinctly, how the perspicuous disposition flowing out of a grave and profitable invention, instructeth our judgements: how a proportionable designe trimmed up with pleasing colours delighteth our sences; how a lively resemblance of action and passion ravisheth our soule, alte­ring and transforming with a sweet violence the present state of our mind to what we see represented in the picture. For it goeth heere with painters, as it goeth with orators and Poëts, they must all teach, delight, and moove: It is their duty, sayth Tully De opt. gen. Orat., that they should teach; it is for their owne credit that they should delight; it is altogether requisite that they should moove and stirre our minde. Witty things teach us: curious things delight us: grave things moove us: and he is the best Artist, who is best provided of all these things. Who­soever on the contrary is meanly provided of them, he is but a meane one; even as he is the worst who hath small store of them: for naughty painters are in this sence as well called Painters, as the best. If any one in the meane time studying to be grave, lo­seth the opinion of wit: or if on the contrary, he had rather seem witty than gorgeous; the same, though he may be reckoned a­mong them that are tolerable, yet is he none of the better sort; seeing that is best onely, what hath all manner of praises.

[Page 337] § 3. I would not have a man so severe and peremptory in his judgement, as to examine every thing nicely according to the most exact course and apprehension of art: somthing must be indulged unto the wits of great Masters: provided onely that we doe excuse small mistakes in them, and not such faults as may seeme grosse and monstrous. Hee forget­teth his owne condition, and doth not remember himselfe a man, who will not beare with other mens errours. The good Homer doth somtimes slumber and oversee himselfe, sayth Horace in his Poëticall Art. Let the nature of man be never so perfect, sayth Diod. Siculus Lib. xxvi., yet can she not please in all things: For neither Phidias, though he was wonderful in his ivory works; nor Praxiteles, though he did most skilfully mixe the passions of the soule with his works of stone; nor Apelles and Parrhasius, though they did raise the Art of painting to the greatest height by their cunningly tempe­red colours; could attaine to this, that they should shew an unblameable patterne of their skill. They were men, and mistooke themselves often, by reason of that weakenesse which useth to be in man: besides that, they were somtimes overcome with the height and excellencie of the matters they ventured upon. Horace therefore giveth us good ad­vice, when he doth so highly commend this discreet mode­ration. Whosoever mixeth profit with pleasure, sayth hee De Arte., the same doth hit the principall point of art. Yet are there some oversights that deserve our pardon. Lute strings, do not alwayes sound as our hand and minde would have them, but they yeeld us very often a sharpe note, when we looke for a flat one. A bow doth not alwaies hit what we aime at. Even so where there are many things that do excell in the worke and make it shine. I shal never be offended at a few spots, caused either by heedlesnesse, or else by that weaknesse which is incident to the nature of man. The [Page 338] younger Pliny studieth to induce us to the same moderati­on by another similitude. Though every one of us useth in the ordinary course of banquets to forbeare many dishes, sayth he Lib. II, Epist. 5., yet do we all commend the whole feast: neither do the meats our stomack refuseth, lessen the pleasure of what we like. Wee are then to judge, and that rigorously enough, seeing it is expe­cted here, that every man should give a ready account of his owne liking and disliking, without suffering himselfe to be hurried about by the wavering opinions of other men: but neverthelesse must the severitie of our forward judge­ment be brideled by a circumspect and wary moderation, lest our unadvised rashnesse in judging make us like them that are esteemed prodigall and lavish of their judgements: they reject some things in the exquisite workes of the ra­rest workemen, as being puffed up; which in the opinion of more understanding spectators, are full of statelinesse and magnificence: they reprehend some things as beeing wan­ton, which in more sober minds are held commendable for their confident boldnesse: they condemne some things as being superfluous and immoderate, which in sound judge­ments doe but abound in a temperate plenteousnesse. Wee ought to take heed of this, seeing there is a great difference, as the younger Pliny speaketh Lib. IX, Epist. 26., Whether we do note blame­worthy or excellent things. All men perceive what sheweth it selfe above other; but it is to be discerned by a most earnest in­tention of the minde, whether that be excessive or lofty, whether it be high or enormous and altogether out of square.

§ 4. But because our judgment is likely to be seduced by the most uncertaine sence of seeing, unlesse we do looke about for all the succour that may be had; we must before all things take care that nothing bee wanting which might helpe our deceitfull sence. Our sight, that it may plainly dis­cern [Page 339] what it seeth, sayth Nemesius De Naturâ hominis, cap. 8., standeth in need of foure things; it requireth a sound instrument of seeing, some stirring or changing of place, answerable to the proportion of the things which are to be seen; a just distance, a pure and clear light. See Themistius also, and Alex. Aphrodisiensis, upon Arist. li. II, de Animâ. As for the first, Every one is not able to judge well of every thing, sayth the same Nemesius Cap. 18., but such a one as is skilfull, and well disposed to it by nature. It is to very small purpose, that a man should invite bleare-eyed folkes to a fine picture; none but quicke sighted people are fit for it. Aphlegmaticke eye is well pleased with shady and dul colours, sayth Plutarch In Phocio­ne., but it abhorreth all manner of bright and glaring colours. Tully joyneth the second with the first and third: We may then trust our sences best, sayth he Lib. IV, Academ. quaest., when we find them to be sound and healthy, and when all those things are remooved that may hinder them. We do ther­fore change the light often, we change the scituation also of the things we mean to see; we do deduct and contract the distances, leaving nothing unattempted that may assure unto us the judg­ment of our eyes. The fourth consisteth in this, that we doe set well painted pieces, as the same Tully speaks elswhere de Claris oratoribus., in a good light. And this is the reason why Vitruvius maintains, that galleries for pictures and such parts of the house as re­quire a constant immutability of light, must take their light from the North, because that part of the aire is never inlight­ned nor darkned too much, sayth he Lib. I, ca. 2., but it remaineth al­wayes certaine and unchangeable at all houres of the day. And in another place, Galleries for pictures, embroidering houses, and painters shops, must look towards the North, sayth he Lib. VI, cap. 7., that the colours in their worke, in regard of the constant light, might seem to keep the same quality. Philostratus In prooemio Iconum. for all that, speaketh of a Callery in the suburbs of Naples, [Page 340] looking toward the West, which was richly furnished with many good pieces. But to let this point alone, we had bet­ter pursue what we have begun; seeing we cannot but adde Horace his observation unto our former discourse. Some pi­ctures take us most, sayth he De Arte., when we stand nearer, others when we stand further off: some love duskie places, others wil be seen in a full light, nothing at all fearing the sharp censures of a peremptory judge: some please us if we do but once view them, others if we take them ten times in hand. See the old commen­tator upon these words.

§ 5. Having outwardly provided what may be good for our eyes, it is next that wee should seriously weigh and consider every part of the work, returning to it againe and again, even ten and ten times if need be. For our sense doth seldom at the first judg right of these curiosities, it is an un­wary Arbitrator, and mistaketh many things: all the sound­nesse and truth of our judgement must proceed onely from reason.

Although the several circumstances of all arts, and almost of our whole life, are occasioned by the ministery of our senses, saith Boëthius Li. I. Mu­sic. cap. 9., yet is there no certainty of judgement, nor appre­hension of truth in our sences, if they are not accompanied with reason. For our sense is alike corrupted with what is too great and too small; seeing it canot perceive the least things by rea­son of their smalnesse, and it is often confounded with the grea­test. And again in another place; Harmonica is a faculty, saith hee Li. v. ca. 1., by the which we do weigh with our sence and with reason, the differences betweene high and low tunes. Sence doth confusedly marke what commeth nearest unto the thing percei­ved; but Reason discerneth the sincerity therof, and busieth it selfe about the severall differences. Sence therefore as it fin­deth confused things, and things approaching unto the truth, so [Page 341] doth it receive his integritie from reason: but reason, as it fin­deth the integritie, so doth it receive from sense a confused simi­litude and a similitude approaching unto the truth: for sense conceiveth no integritie, but cometh as neere as can be: reason on the contrary doth discerne and determine: see Macrobius al­so lib. VII, Saturnal. cap. 14. This ought therefore to be our chiefest care, that wee should not onely goe with our eyes over the severall figures represented in the worke, but that we should likewise suffer our mind to enter into a live­ly consideration of what wee see expressed; not otherwise then if wee were present, and saw not the counterfeited image but the reall performance of the thing: which having well observed, the very picture it selfe will instantly lead us to the principall figures. Philostratus in the picture of Am­phiaraus seemeth to insinuate thus much: for having rela­ted many and strange adventures that befell unto severall warriers as they were a fighting under the walls and at the gates of the Citie Thebes; But these, sayth he Icon. lib. I., belong to ano­ther discourse, seeing the picture biddeth us looke upon Amphi­araus alone, as he flieth under the earth with his very garlands, and with his very laurell, &c. And againe in the picture of Panthia; as for the Citie walls, sayth he Icon. li. II., and the fired hou­ses, and the faire Lydian women, the Persians may carry and take what can be taken. Abradates and Panthia dying for his sake, seeing the picture doth intend that, are left to our conside­ration as being the chiefest argument in hand.

§ 6. By this it may be inferred that the most earnest in­tension of our curious mind ought chiefly to employ it selfe about the chiefest and most remarkable things. Philostratus in the picture of the Fishermen giveth us an evident exam­ple; not to goe over every little thing, sayth he Icon. li. I. in Piscat., it will be best to speake of such matters as may deserve our discourse, &c. see [Page 342] the description of that picture it selfe. The chiefest things therefore require our chiefest attention; and whosoever contenteth himself with some small things he fell upon first, the same doth little remember that stately magnificence the Lovers of Art must as well accustome themselves unto in judging, as the workmen in working: if any man doth not see the whole beauty of the Olympian Jupiter, which is so great and so wonderfull, sayth Lucian De Conscri­bendâ histo­ria., if he doth not commend it, nor report it to others that are ignorant of it, but stumbleth up­on the handsome workmanship of his well-carved foot-stoole and upon his well-proportioned pantofle, rehearsing these things ve­ry carefully; would not you thinke him like unto a man that doth not see the rose it selfe, but fixeth his whole contemplation upon the thornes and prickles which grow neere the roote? The true way how to consider pictures and statues, is most plainly set downe in the books of Images made by the elder and youn­ger Philostratus, as also in Callistratus his Description of sta­tues: whosoever readeth their workes with attention, shall questionlesse finde his desire fully satisfied. There are like­wise in many other ancient Authors divers curious and neat expressions to be found, able both to delight the reader and to informe his judgement in the right manner of exa­mining workes of Art: but among a thousand examples that might be alleadged here, wee shall insist onely upon Claudians description of Amphinomus and Anapus their sta­tues. Behold how the brothers sweat under a venerable burden, sayth he Epigr. 25., and how mount Aetna it selfe, wondering at such an attempt, keepeth his wandering flames from them. Though they support their parents with their neckes, yet doe they uphold them with their hands, confidently lifting up their heads & hastening their pace. The olde couple is mounted up on high and carried by two sonnes, entangling them with a sweet and lovely let. Doe [Page 343] not you see how the old man pointeth to the fire? how the frigh­ted mother calleth upon the Gods? Feare setteth their haire on end, the mettall it selfe growing pale in their amazed counte­nances. You may see in the young men a most couragious hor­ror, being fearelesse for themselves, though fearefull for their burden: their cloakes are borne backe by the winde: one of them lifteh up his right hand, being content to hold his father with the left: the other foldeth both his hands in a knot, remembring how the weaker sexe was to be saved by a more warie toile. It must not goe unobserved, what the hands of the Artificer brought quietly to passe in the worke: for though their consanguinitie maketh them very like one another; the one for all that cometh neerest unto the mother, the other unto the father: their unlike yeares receive such a temperature by the skill of Art, that the parents are represented in each of their countenances: and the workman making a new difference between two neerely resem­bling brothers, hath distinguished their countenances by the ef­fects of their pietie. It is apparent in this example how a skil­full and understanding spectator goeth over all that is re­markable in the worke: and as he cannot abide that his curiositie should spend it selfe about matters of small im­portance, so doth he very seriously observe the most strange miracles of the noble Art, as they doe display themselves in such a noble argument.

§ 7. As it is then evident that our curiositie may not busie it selfe too much about poore and frivolous matters, so must wee on the contrary endeavour to conceive the whole shew of the represented matters with a large and freely diffused apprehension; to the end that wee might compare the chiefest circumstances of the Argument with our premeditated and fore-conceived images: neither is it a hard and difficult worke to recollect our memory and to [Page 344] renew the remembrance of things upon the least sight of a represented image; it is done in an instant: our remembrance is a quicke and easie thing, sayth Maximus Tyrius Dissert. xxviii., for as bo­dies that are easily mooved must first be stirred by a hand or any thing which setteth them a going, and having once received such a beginning of their motion, they keepe it for a good while: even so the mind, having received of sense a small beginning of re­membrance, runneth on infinitly, remembring all what is to be remembred. Our senses therefore, which stand as it were at the entry of the mind, having received the beginning of any thing, and having proffered it to the mind; the mind likewise recei­veth this beginning, and goeth over all what followeth: the low­er part of a long and slender pike being but lightly shaken, the motion runneth thorough the whole length of the pike, even to the speares-head; and whosoever shaketh the beginning of a long stretched out rope, sendeth the motion to the ropes end; so doth our mind need but a small beginning to the remembrance of the whole matter.

When a table of huntings is represented to the sense, the mind also will suddenly enter into a most serious conside­ration of hunting affaires, and by a lively and active Imagi­nation represent to it selfe all the painefull pleasures of that manly pastime: the first thoughts will exhibite a frequent assembly of youthful gallants enflamed with exceeding love of that sport, preventing the light, even while every foote they set doth leave its print in the dewie grasse, some un­coupling the most assured finders, the dogs themselves with silent gestures craving freedome, some rounding and bea­ting the shadie woods, while the hounds with full libertie ranging the coverts doe by the diligent suite of quick-sen­ted noses catch a selfe-betraying sent. Others drive the rou­sed and affrighted deere with astonishing hallowings into [Page 345] the toyles which they had before spred wide for him: and now having obtained the chase, the victor calleth for a knife to take essay, and all having embrued their hands in the bloud in token of victory and the hounds diligence rewar­ded, some with ceremonious triumph beare home the waightie quarry, while the weary dogs mutely follow at the heeles of the sport-ravished hunters: see Libanius orat. xxxiii, where he doth describe most accuratly all the circum­stances of hunting.

§ 8. Wee have shewed already in the fift chapter of our first Booke, that Lovers of art ought to store up in their minde the perfect Images of all manner of things; to the end that they might have them alwayes at hand, when any workes of Art are to be conferred with them. Here it is furthermore required, that all those who meane to enter into a judicious consideration of matters of art, must by the means of these Images accustome their mind to such a live­ly representation of what they see expressed in the picture, as if they saw the things themselves and not their resem­blance onely. Theon, a most famous Painter, having made the picture of an armed man who seemed to runne most fu­riously on his enemies that depopulated the country round about, he did thinke it good not to propound the picture before he had provided a trumpetter to sound an alarme somewhere hard by; the trumpet therefore being heard, the picture was likewise brought forth suddenly at the same instant. The sound of the trumpet, sayth Aelian Li. II. var. hist. cap. ult., possessed the phantasies of the spectators with a more lively impression of a man desperately sallying out to ayd his Countrey. The most excellent Artificer conceived very well that the phan­tasie of the beholders would fasten soonest upon such a re­presentation, if it were first mooved by this dreadfull noise [Page 346] to exspect nothing else but an invasion of armed and despe­ratly resolved men. Philostratus commendeth unto us this way of considering pictures: for when he goeth about to teach a young lad how to looke upon pictures, he wisheth him to take this course: Will you, good youth, sayth he Iconum lib. II, in In­sulis., that wee discourse about these Ilands as out of a ship, even as if wee did saile round about them in the spring-time, when Zephyrus refresheth the Sea, gently stirring it with a coole blast of his owne? To the end therefore that you might willingly forget the shore, and that you might take all this to be the sea; not a swel­ling and boisterous one; neither altogether quiet and calme; but a navigable sea and filled with a good gale of winde; behold, wee are embarked already, &c.

Mark here, I pray, how Philostratus, a man exceeding well skilled in these things, taketh the spectator along with him­selfe a ship boord, willeth him forget the shore and view e­very one of the represented circumstances as out of a ship; esteeming that his mind could not apprehend the severall parts of the picture rightly, unlesse with an imaginary pre­sence it should first saile about, conferring the fresh and newly conceived Images with the picture it selfe. So may it likewise be inferred out of this, that they are likely to judge best of the resemblance of many things, who have some­times had the opportunitie to acquaint their eyes with the things themselves. It is prettie indeed and much condu­cing to this purpose, what Athenaeus Lib. XIII, Deipnosoph. in ipso statim initio. relateth; the comicall Poët Antiphanes reading one of his comedies to Alexander, found that he tooke but small liking in the worke; where­fore, when Alexander shewed by his slender attention that he did not greatly affect his Poëme, It is altogether need­full, O King, sayd Antiphanes, that a man whom these lines should take, be well acquainted with the things, having of­ten [Page 347] made his collation in the night-meetings of young roa­rers, sometimes giving and sometimes receiving good store of blowes for a wench.

§ 9. This frequent and attentive viewing of pictures engendreth in our minde an undeceivable Facilitie of jud­ging; the last brood of great experience, as Dionys. Longinus De sublimi orat. § 4. calleth it. The best marke of a gracefull elegancie consisteth in a certaine kinde of feeling wee can give no account of, sayth Dionys. Halicarnassensis De Demo­sthenis acu­mine ac vi., so doth this same unexpressible fee­ling require great exercitation, and a continuall instruction familiarly given by word of mouth: neither can Carvers and Painters, unlesse perchance they have gotten great experience by exercising their sight a good while about the workes of anci­ent Masters, discerne them easily: no more can they assuredly say, unlesse perchance they have received it by fame, this is Po­lycletus, this is Phidias, this is Alcamenes his worke: and againe, this is Polygnotus, this is Timanthes, this is Par­rhasius his hand. Seeing then that it is not for every man to understand the true propertie of that accurate Grace, which wee doe finde imprinted in every Artificers worke, as an infallible Character of his peculiar veine and spirit; it is likewise requisite that wee should study to attaine to this skill of discerning every one his manner of Art. Let twins be never so like one unto another, sayth Tullie Lib. IV, Academ. quaest., the mo­ther for all that discerneth them by a meere consuetude or accu­stomance of her eyes; and you shall in like manner be able to know the one from the other, if you doe but enure and accustome your eyes to it. Egges have such a neere resemblance one with another, that their similitude is turned into a proverbe; yet doe wee heare it reported that many at Delos, before it was ruined, feeding a multitude of hennes for gaine, were so well skilled in their trade as to know every egge upon sight, distinctly telling [Page 348] what henne had laid it. Even as Musicians therefore charge them that would be skilled in harmony, to accustome their eares not so much as to goe by the least division in the tunes, and to seeke no other more accurate marke of har­mony; so must all they that desire to understand where­in the Grace of these workes doth consist, studie to exer­cise their unexpressible feeling to this exactnesse with the ex­pence of much time, with a continuall practice, and by the means of a secret passion no bodie can give any account of, sayth Dio­nys. Halicarnassensis In Lysiâ.. As it is not enough to take a singular delight in musicall songs, sayth Boëthius Li. I. Mus. cap. I., unlesse we doe like­wise learne the proportionable joyning of many voices into one; so cannot skilfull men content themselves with a bare contem­plation of colours and figures, unlesse they doe furthermore con­ceive their peculiar properties.

§ 10. As many then as by a studious and daily exer­cise have accustomed their eyes to such a sure Facilitie in judging, use alway to shew their chiefest skill therein, that they doe most readily discerne originall pictures from the other that are copied; finding a perfect and natural force of grace in the originalls, whereas in the copies they can see nothing but an unperfect and borrowed comelinesse. Originals have in themselves a naturall grace and vigor, saith Dionys. Halicarnassensis In Dinarc., but Copies, though they attaine to the height of imitation, have alwayes something, which being studied, doth not proceed out of nature: and Rhetoricians doe not onely discerne Rhetoricians by this precept, but painters doe alsi by this rule distinguish Apelles his works from their works that imitate him. This is likewise the way for Statuaries, to finde out Polycletus his statues: and for Carvers to know Phi­dias his images. It is most wonderfull, how quickely those that have exercised their eyes, can know an originall from a [Page 349] copy; whereas others that are unexperienced in these things cannot perceive any difference. A copy doth alwayes differ from the originall, sayth Diog. Laërt. in Onesicrito. It may not be doubted, but truth hath alwayes the better of imi­tation, sayth Tully Li. III. de Orat.: An imitator doth never come neer the first author. This is the nature of things: a similitude com­meth ever far short of that truth which is in the things them­selves, sayth Seneca the Rhetorician Li. I. Con­trov. in pro­oemio.. Whatsoever is like unto another thing, sayth Quintilian Li, x. ca. 2., is nothing neere so good as the thing it doth imitate. What we take for a pattern, containeth in it selfe the nature and true force of the things themselves; the imitation on the contrary is but counterfeit, and forced to accommodate it selfe to another mans intent. Li­banius therefore speaking of those Artificers that doe suc­cesfully expresse ancient statues, doth not stick to affirme In Antio [...]., That the gods have bestowed something more upon them, than the nature of man is capable of. Painters represent a faire and absolute face most commonly to the worst, saith the younger Pliny Li. v. ep. 10. Those likewise that copy the most con­summate pieces of excellent Masters, can seldome doe it so well, but that perpetually they fall away from the original. For as it is hard to hit a similitude after the life, sayth the same Pliny elsewhere Li. 5. ep. 28., so is the imitation of an imitation much more hard and difficult.

§ II. This facilitie of judging, as it teacheth their ac­customed eyes to discerne betweene originals and copies; so doth it likewise inable them to see the difference which is betweene antient and moderne workes. Nothing commen­deth pictures so much, sayth Quintilian Li. viii, c. 3, as that authoritie given them by age, which no art can imitate. All are not of L. Mummius his minde, who was so ignorant in these busi­nesses, that hee made no difference betweene old and new [Page 350] workes. For when he at the taking of Corinth, agreed with some men to bring a world of rare & antient pictures & sta­tues into Italy; hee foretold them that undertooke the mat­ter, That they should take heed of losing any, which if they did, that they were then to restore new ones in stead of thē. See Vell. Paterc. lib. II. hist. cap. 13. But this was his gros­nesse. As for the other more refined and elegant men of that and the following ages, they knew well enough what difference there was between old and new workemanship, and how much the pleasantnesse of great and nimble wits is revived by these delightsome antiquities. They held them therefore in a reverend admiration, even as men use to adore groves consecrated for their antiquity, sayth Quintil. Li. x. cap. 1. in which the great and antient stumps do not so much draw our eyes with their pleasant shew, as with a religious horrour that striketh the heart of the beholders. Tully declareth himselfe to have beene of that minde. Antiquity is in great estimati­on with me, sayth he De perfecto Orat., neither doe I so much require what she wanteth, as I doe commend what shee hath; seeing I hold the things she hath, farre better than the things she wanteth. And againe in another place Lib. III. de Orat., It is no easie thing to tel the cause why we are soonest of all by a certaine kinde of loathing and sa­cietie, abalienated from such things as do at the first sight very much delight and vehemently stir our sences. How much more flour shing are all things for their gaynesse and variety in new pictures than in old ones? These things for all that, though wee are at the first very much taken with them, doe never delight us long. Whereas on the contrary in old pictures, we are most of all affected with their decaying horridnesse. Observe here in the meane time, that other Authors, though Tully thinketh it an hard matter, alledge a double reason of this respect wee beare the antient workes. Dionys. Halycarnassensis giveth [Page 351] us one reason, when he maintaineth In Isaeo., That the antient pictures in a wonderfull simplicity of colours drew their chiefest commendation from a more accurate and gracefull designe. The new pictures on the contrary being but care­lesly designed, stood most of all upon the manifold mixture of their colours, and upon an affectation of light and sha­dowes. See Themistius also, Orat. de Amic. where he tou­cheth the very same point. The other reason seemes to flow out of the former: for as the first reason preferreth the an­tient workes before the new, in regard of their graceful­nes, so doth the second attribute unto the old workes a cer­taine kinde of majesty, yet so, that it was their simplicitie made them majestical. Porph. sayth Lib. II. de abstinentiâ., That the new images of the gods are admired for the dignity of the work, but the ancient are reverenced for the simplicity of the worke, as being more sutable to the majesty of the gods. Pausanias likewise In Corinth. speaking of Daedalus, sayth that his works were not very handsome to looke on, but that there was in them a certaine kinde of divine majesty which did become them very much. Silius Italicus Sub finem lib. xiv. doth also note this peculiar property in the antient images of gods, That they kept as yet the godhead bestowed upon thē by art. As many therfore as had used their eyes to such sights, did easily discerne the old works from the new: so was there good reason they should labor to attain to this faculty of judging, because the Impo­stors and Cheaters were wonderful busy in those times, and it was an ordinary practise of many to couzen the unskilful buyers with a counterfeit shew of antiquitie. See Phaedr. l. v. Fab. in prol. See Martial likewise, lib. viii. Epigr. 6 & 34.

§ 12. Seeing therefore that the sayd consuetude or accustomance of our eyes doth so much enable us, as that wee can upon the first view readily discerne originall pi­ctures [Page 352] from Copies, and antient workes from moderne; we might be very well satisfied, esteeming the daily practice of a curious eye to be the chiefest meanes whereby we do at­taine to such a facilitie of judging: but that the king Theo­dericus propoundeth unto us another meanes, which being added to the former exercise, is likely to quicken our judg­ment much more, and to endue it with a most ready and unfallible facility of judging. Theodericus his words are taken out of a Writ directed to the President of Rome, a­bout the chusing of a sufficient Surveyor or Architect: The reputation of the Roman fabricke, sayth he Apud Cass. Var. lib. vii. sorm. 15., ought to have an expert Architect: that this wonderfull collection which is within the walls might be succoured by diligence, and that the moderne face of the worke might be well contrived and ordered. For our largesse doth not faile in this study, but that we resolve to renew antient workes, by supplying their defects, and to at­tyre new workes with the glory of antiquitie. These things ther­fore do require a most skilfull man, lest among so many most in­genious antient things, he himselfe seeme like unto the metall they are made of, and shew himselfe uncapable of what cunning Antiquity made palpable in them. Let him therefore reade the books of the Antients, and take some leisure to improve himself, lest he be found to know lesse than those in whose place he is sub­stituted.

It was a most worthy care this King tooke, to see the or­naments of the city every where renewed, and yet is it more, that he would not neglect to give his advice, how a skilfull overseer of antiquities should fit himselfe better to the charge he was to undergoe. Let him reade the Bookes of the Antients, sayth he, and draw further instruction out of them. It is right it should be so: for as wee shewed in the first chapter of this our third Booke, that no Artificer may [Page 353] ever hope to attaine to the perfection of these arts, unlesse he be thorowly instructed with all manner of arts and sci­ences; even so must we say here the same of lovers of Art, that they must be filled with great varietie of learning. It may be very well, that an unlearned lover of art should ap­prehend and discerhe the Artificers skil, out of his designe, colours, and such like things, delighting himselfe especially in these parts of picture: but much further he cannot go; it belongeth onely to them that are learned indeed, to judge moreover of the invention, to consider whether every fi­gure hath his due place, and bee inspired with such lively passions as the present occasion of the represented historie requireth. Without this purifying of our wit, enriching of our memory, enabling of our judgement, inlarging of our conceit, which is commonly called by the name of learning, we shall never be able to understand the drift of an histori­call invention aright, and it may be we shall approve of ma­ny impertinencies committed against the nature of the Ar­gument. The Ancients besides all this, as we have shewed before in the 6 Section of this present Chapter, inform and direct our judgements in the true way of judging; & which is more yet, there are scattered heere and there in their workes such compleat descriptions of beauty as may serve to worke after and to judge by. But of this point, which perchance may seeme somewhat paradoxicall, we have stu­died elsewhere to give sufficient proofe.

§ 13. What we have sayd already, may serve for an in­troduction into a setled way of judging, and wee would willingly end with this, if wee had not something to say a­bout the by-workes, commonly called Parerga in the anti­ent Greeke and Latine Authors. Parerga are called such things, sayth Quintilian Lib. II. cap. 3., as are added to the worke for to [Page 354] adorne it. Pliny doth likewise expresse the same: Protoge­nes, sayth he Lib. xxxv, cap. 10., when he painted at Athens in the porch of Mi­nerva's Temple that famous ship called Paralus, with another ship called Hemionis, he added also many other little Gallies among the things which painters call Parerga. Galen hath a more large expression: Good workemen, sayth he Lib. XI, de usu parti­um corporis humani., use to make some Parergon or by worke for a document of their Art, upon the bolts and shields: oftentimes also doe they make upon the sword hilts and drinking pots, some little images over and above the use of the worke, expressing Ivy branches, Cypresse trees, tendrels of a Vine, and other such like devices. Philo­stratus Iconum lib. I, in Pisca­torib. seemeth to call these additions, Sweet seasonings of picture. But because the Artificers goe over these workes slightly and with a light hand, so is it that we doe likewise for the most part examine them more negligently. We con­sider the by-works of workemen but slenderly, sayth Plutarch Cur Pythia nunc non red­dat oracula carmine., for they study onely to be pleasant in many of them; neither doe they alwayes avoyd in them what is to small purpose and super­fluous. If we doe finde in the meane while, That the Ar­tificers hit the true force and facilitie of grace better in these sudden things than in the worke it selfe, yet must wee never be so inconsiderate in our judgement, as to preferre the by-work before the work: Protogenes his example may teach us, how much the indiscretion of such spectators dis­courageth the Artificer. Among many excellent Donaries that did adorne the city Rhodes, the picture of Jalysus was much renowmed; a painted Satyr also standing neere a pil­lar, whereupon the picture of a Partridge was to be seene. The picture of the partridge being newly hung there, drew the eyes of all sorts of men so much, that the most excellent picture of Jalysus grew contemptible, and no body did any more regard it. Protogenes therefore finding himself much [Page 355] vexed, that the by-worke should be preferred before the worke it selfe, having asked leave of the Church-wardens, did put out the bird. See Strabo, lib. XIV, Geograph. Such another company of unadvisedly and impertinently jud­ging Spectators made Zeuxis likewise cry out, These men commend the mud of our Art. See Lucian in Zeuxide.


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