THE ART OF PAINTING.

OBSERVATIONS ON THE Art of Painting OF Charles Alphonse du Fresnoy.

PAinting and Poesy are two Sisters, ¶1. The Number at the head of every Obser­vation serves to find in the Text the par­ticular Pas­sage on which the Observati­on was made. &c. 'Tis a receiv'd truth, that the Arts have a cer­tain relation to each other. "There is no Art (said Tertullian in his Treatise of Idola­try) which is not either the Father or the near Relation of another. And Cicero in his Oration for Archias the Poet, says, That the Arts which have respect to human life, have a kind of Alliance a­mongst themselves, and hold each other (as we may say) by the hand." But those Arts which are the nearest related, and claim the most ancient Kin­dred with each other, are Painting and Poetry; [Page 80] and whosoever shall throughly examine them, will find them so much resembling one another, that he cannot take them for less than Sisters.

They both follow the same bent, and suffer them­selves rather to be carry'd away, than led by their secret Inclinations, which are so many seeds of the Divinity. "There is a God within us (says Ovid in the beginning of his Sixth Book de Fa­stis, there speaking of the Poets) who by his A­gitation warms us. And Suidas says, That the fa­mous Sculptor Phidias, and Zeuxis that incompa­rable Painter, were both of them transported by the same Enthusiasm, which gave life to all their works." They both of them aim at the same end, which is Imitation. Both of them excite our Passions; and we suffer our selves willingly to be deceiv'd, both by the one, and by the other; our Eyes and Souls are so fixt to them, that we are ready to persuade our selves that the painted Bodies breath, and that the Fictions are Truths. Both of them are set on fire by the great Actions of Heroes; and both endeavour to eternize them: Both of them in short, are supported by the strength of their Imagination, and avail themselves of those licences, which Apollo has equally bestow'd on them, and with which their Genius has inspir'd them.

As Horace tells us in his Art of Poetry.

The advantage which Painting possesses above Poesie is this; That amongst so great a Diversi­ty of Languages, she makes her self understood by all the Nations of the World; and that she is neces­sary to all other Arts, because of the need which they have of demonstrative Figures, which often give more Light to the Understanding than the clearest discourses we can make.

Horace in the same Art of Poetry.

For both of them that they might contribute, &c.¶9. Poetry by its Hymns and Anthems, and Painting by its Statues, Altar-pieces, and by all those Decorati­ons [Page 82] which inspire Respect and Reverence for our Sacred Mysteries, have been serviceable to Religion. Gregory of Nice, after having made a long and beautifull Description of Abraham sacrificing his Son Isaac, says these words, "I have often cast my eyes upon a Picture, which represents this moving object, and could never withdraw them with­out Tears. So well did the Picture represent the thing it self, even as if the Action were then¶24.passing before my Sight." So much these Divine Arts have been always honour'd, &c. The greatest Lords, whole Cities and their Magistrates of Old (says Pliny lib. 35.) took it for an honour to obtain a Pi­cture from the hands of those great Ancient Painters. But this Honour is much fallen of late amongst the French Nobility: and if you will understand the cause of it, Vitruvius will tell you that it comes from their Ignorance of the charming Arts. Pro­pter ignorantiam Artis, virtutes obscurantur: (in the Preface to his Fifth Book.) Nay more, we should see this admirable Art fall into the last de­gree of Contempt, if our Mighty Monarch, who yields in nothing to the Magnanimity of Alexan­der the Great, had not shown as much Love for Painting as Valour in the Wars: we daily see him encouraging this noble Art, by the considerable Presents which he makes to hisMr. Le Brun. chief Painter. [Page 83] And he has also founded an Academy for the Progress and Perfectionating of Painting, which hisMr. Col­bert. first Minister honours with his Protection, his care, and frequent Visits: insomuch that we might shortly see the age of Apelles reviving in our Country, together with all the beauteous Arts, if our generous Nobility, who follow our incompa­rable King with so much Ardour and Courage in those dangers to which he exposes his Sacred Per­son for the Greatness and Glory of his Kingdom, would imitate him in that wonderfull Affection which he bears to all who are excellent in this kind. Those Persons who were the most considerable in Ancient Greece, either for Birth or Merit, took a most particular care, for many ages, to be instru­cted in the Art of Painting: following that lau­dable and profitable custom which was begun and establish'd by the Great Alexander, which was to learn how to Design. And Pliny who gives te­stimony to this in the tenth Chapter of his 35th. Book tells us farther (speaking of Pamphilus the Master of Apelles) That it was by the authority of A­lexander, that first at Sicyon, and afterwards thro' all Greece, the young Gentlemen learn'd before all o­ther things to design upon Tablets of Boxen-wood; and that the first place among all the Liberal Arts was gi­ven to Painting. And that which makes it evident, [Page 84] that they were very knowing in this Art, is the love and esteem which they had for Painters. Demetrius gave high testimonies of this when he besieg'd the City of Rhodes: For he was pleas'd to employ some part of that time, which he ow'd to the care of his Arms, in visiting Protogenes, who was then drawing the Picture of Ialisus. This Ia­lisus, , (says Pliny) hinder'd King Demetrius from taking Rhodes, out of fear, lest he should burn the Pictures; and not being able to fire the Town on any other side, he was pleas'd rather to spare the Painting, than to take the Victory which was already in his hands. Protogenes at that time had his Work-house in a Garden out of the Town, and very near the Camp of the Enemies, where he was daily fi­nishing those Pieces which he had already begun; the noise of Soldiers not being capable of inter­rupting his studies. But Demetrius causing him to be brought into his Presence, and asking him what made him so bold as to work in the midst of Enemies: He answer'd the King, That he un­derstood the War which he made, was against the Rho­dians and not against the Arts. This oblig'd Deme­trius to appoint him Guards for his Security, be­ing infinitely pleas'd that he could preserve that hand, which by this means he sav'd from the barbarity and insolence of Soldiers. Alexander [Page 85] had no greater pleasure, than when he was in the painting room of Apelles, where he commonly was found. And that Painter once receiv'd from him a sensible Testimony of Love and Esteem which that Monarch had for him: for having caus'd him to paint naked (by reason of her admirable beauty) one of his Concubines call'd Campaspe, who had the greatest share in his affections, and perceiving that Apelles was wounded with the same fatal dart of Beauty, he made a present of her to him. In that age so great a deference was pay'd to Paint­ing, that they who had any Mastery in that Art, never painted on any thing but what was porta­ble from one place to another, and what could be secur'd from burning. They took a particu­lar care, says Pliny, in the place above-cited, not to paint any thing against a Wall, which could onely belong to one Master, and must always remain in the same place; and for that reason could not be remov'd in case of an accidental Fire. Men were not suffer'd to keep a Picture, as it were in Prison, on the Walls: It dwelt in common in all Cities, and the Painter himself was respected, as a Common Good to all the World. See this Excellent Author, and you shall find that the 10th. Chapter of his 35th. Book is fill'd with the praises of this Art, and with the Honours which [Page 86] were ascrib'd to it. You will there find that it was not permitted to any but those of noble Blood to profess it. Francis the First, as Vasari tells us, was in love with Painting to that degree, that he allur'd out of Italy all the best Masters, that this Art might flourish in his own Kingdom. Amongst o­thers Leonardo da Vinci, who after having continu­ed for some time in France, died at Fontainbleau, in the Arms of that great King, who could not behold his death, without shedding Tears over him. Charles the Fifth has adorn'd Spain with the noblest Pictures which are now remaining in the World. Ridolphi in his life of Titian, says, that Emperor one day took up a Pencil, which fell from the hand of that Artist, who was then drawing his Picture, and upon the Compliment which Titian made him on that occasion, he said these words, Titian has de­serv'd to be serv'd by Caesar. And in the same life 'tis remarkable, That the Emperour valued himself not so much in subjecting Kingdoms and Provinces, as that he had been thrice made immortal by the hand of Titian. If you will but take the pains to read this famous life in Ridolphi, you will there see the relation of all those honours which he receiv'd from Charles the Fifth. It would take up too much time here to recount all the particulars: I will onely observe that the greatest Lords who compos'd the Court [Page 87] of that Emperour, not being able to refrain from some marks of Jealousy, upon the preference which he made of the Person, and Conversation of Titian, to that of all his other Courtiers; he freely told them, That he could never want a Court or Courtiers, but he could not have Titian always with him. Accordingly he heap'd Riches on him, and whensoever he sent him Money, which, ordi­narily speaking, was a great Summ, he always did it with this obliging Testimony, That his design was not to pay him the value of his Pictures, because they were above any price. After the example of the Worthies of Antiquity, who bought the rarest Pictures with Bushels of Gold, without counting the weight or the number of the pieces, In nummo aureo, mensurâ accepit, non numero, says Pliny, speak­ing of Apelles. Quinctilian inferrs from hence, that there is nothing more noble than the Art of Paint­ing; because other things for the most part are Merchandice, and bought at certain Rates; most things for this very reason, (says he) are vile be­cause they have a price, Pleraque hoc ipso possunt videri vilia, quod pretium habent: see the 34th. 35th. and 36th. Books of Pliny. Many great persons have lov'd it with an extream Passion, and have exercis'd themselves in it with delight. Amongst others, Lelius Fabius, one of those famous Ro­mans, [Page 88] who, as Cicero relates, after he had tasted painting and had practis'd it, would be call'd Fabius Pictor: as also Turpilius a Roman Knight; Labco Praetor & Consul, Quintus Pedius, the Poets Ennius and Pacuvius; Socrates, Plato, Metrodorus, Pirrho, Commodus, Nero, Vespasian, Alexander Seve­rus, Antoninus, and many other Kings and Empe­rours, who thought it not below their Majesty to employ some part of their time in this honou­rable Art.

¶37. The principal and most important part of Painting, is to find out and thoroughly to understand what Nature hath made most beautifull and most proper to this Art, &c. Observe here the rock on which the greatest part of the Flemish Painters have split: most of that Nation know how to imitate Nature, at least as well as the Painters of other Countries, but they make a bad choice in Nature it self; whe­ther it be, that they have not seen the Ancient pieces to find those beauties; or that a happy Genius, and the beautifull Nature is not of the growth of their Country. And to confess the truth, that which is naturally beautifull is so very rare, that it is discover'd by few persons; 'tis difficult to make a choice of it, and to form to our selves such an Idea of it, as may serve us for a Model.

[Page 89] ¶39. And that a choice of it may be made according to the gust and manner of the Ancients, &c. That is to say, according to the Statues, the Basso Relie­vo's, and the other Ancient Pieces, as well of the Grae­cians as of the Romans; Ancient (or Antique) is that which has been made from the time of Alexander the Great, till that of Phocas; during whose Em­pire the Arts were ruin'd by War. These Anci­ent works from their beginning have been the rule of Beauty; and in effect, the Authors of them have been so carefull to give them that perfecti­on, which is still to be observ'd in them, that they made use not onely of one single Body, where­by they form'd them, but of many, from which they took the most regular parts to compose from them a beautifull whole. "The Sculptors, says Maximus Tyrius in his 7th. Dissertation, with admirable Artifice chose out of many Bodies those parts which appear'd to them the most beauti­full, and out of that diversity made but one Statue: But this mixture is made with so much prudence and propriety, that they seem to have taken but one onely perfect Beauty. And let us not imagine that we can ever find one natural Beauty which can dis­pute with Statues, that Art which has always some­what more perfect than Nature." 'Tis also to be presum'd, that in the choice which they made of [Page 90] those parts, they follow'd the opinion of the Phy­sicians, who at that time were very capable of instructing them in the rules of Beauty: Since Beauty and Health ordinarily follow each other. "For Beauty, says Galen, is nothing else but a just Accord and mutual Harmony of the Members, a­nimated by a healthfull constitution. And men, said the same Author, commend a certain Statue of Polycletus, which they call the rule, and which deserves that name for having so perfect an agree­ment in all its parts, and a proportion so exact, that it is not possible to find a fault in it." From what I have quoted, we may conclude, that the Anci­ent Pieces are truly beautifull, because they re­semble the Beauties of Nature; and that Nature will ever be beautifull which resembles those Beau­ties of Antiquity. 'Tis now evident upon what account none have presum'd to contest the pro­portion of those Ancient Pieces, and that on the contrary, they have always been quoted as Mo­dels of the most perfect Beauty. Ovid in the 12th. Book of his Metamorphosis, where he describes Cyl­larus, the most beautifull of all the Centaures, says, That he had so great a Vivacity in his Countenance, his Neck, his Shoulders, his Hands and Stomach were so fair, that it is certain the manly part of him was as beautifull as the most celebrated Statues. And [Page 91] Philostratus in his Heroiqnes, speaking of Protesi­laus and praising the beauty of his face, says, "That the form of his Nose was square, as if it had been of a Statue;" and in another place speaking of Euphorbus, he says, "That his beauty had gain'd the affections of all the Greeks, and that it resem­bled so nearly the beauty of a Statue, that one might have taken him for Apollo." Afterwards also speaking of the Beauty of Neoptolemus, and of his likeness to his Father Achilles, he says, "That in beauty, his Father had the same advantage over him, as Statues have over the beauty of living Men."

This ought to be understood of the fairest Statues, for amongst the multitude of Sculptors which were in Greece and Italy, 'tis impossible but some of them must have been bad work-men, or rather less good: for though their works were much inferiour to the Artists of the first form, yet somewhat of greatness is to be seen in them, and somewhat of harmonious in the distribution of their parts, which makes it evident; that at this time they wrought on Common Principles, and that every one of them avail'd himself of those Princi­ples according to his Capacity and Genius. Those Statues were the greatest Ornaments of Greece; we need onely open the Book of Pausanias to find [Page 92] the prodigious quantity of them, whether within or without their Temples, or in the crossing of Streets, or in the Squares and publique Places, or e­ven the Fields, or on the Tombs, Statues were ere­cted to the Muses, to the Nymphs, to Heroes, to great Captains, to Magistrates, Philosophers and Poets: In short, they were set up to all those who had made themselves eminent either in defence of their Country, or for any noble action which deserv'd a recompence; for it was the most ordinary and most authentique way, both amongst the Greeks and Romans, thus to testifie their gratitude. The Romans when they had conquer'd Graecia, tran­sported from thence, not onely their most admira­ble Statues, but also brought along with them the most excellent of their Sculptors, who instructed others in their Art, and have left to posterity the immortal Examples of their knowledge, which we see confirm'd by those curious Statues, those Vases, those Basso-Relievo's, and those beautifull Columns call'd by the names of Trajan and Anto­nine: They are those Beauties which out Author proposes to us for our Models. And as the true Fountains of Science, out of which both Painters and Statuaries are bound to draw for their own use, without amusing themselves with dipping in streams which are often muddy, at least troubled; [Page 93] I mean the manner of their Masters, after whom they creep, and from whom they are unwilling to depart, either through negligence, or through the meanness of their Genius. "It belongs onely to heavy minds, says Cicero, to spend their time on streams, without searching for the Springs from whence their materials flow in all manner of abun­dance."

¶40. Without which all is nothing, but a blind and rash barbarity, &c. All that has nothing of the An­cient gust, is call'd a barbarous or Gothique man­ner, which is not conducted by any rule, but onely follows a wretched fancy, which has no­thing in it that is noble: we are here to observe, that Painters are not oblig'd to follow the Antique as exactly as the Sculptors, for then their Picture would favour too strongly of the Statue, and would seem to be without Motion. Many Pain­ters, and some of the ablest amongst them, be­lieving they do well, and taking that Precept in too literal a Sence, have fallen thereby into great inconveniencies; it therefore becomes the Painters to make use of those Ancient Patterns with discre­tion, and to accommodate the Nature to them in such a manner, that their Figures which must seem to live, may rather appear to be Models for the Antique, than the Antique a Model for their figures.

[Page 94] It appears that Raphael made a perfect use of this conduct, and that the Lombard School have not precisely search'd into this Precept, any fur­ther than to learn from thence how to make a good choice of the Nature, and to give a certain grace and nobleness to all their works, by the ge­neral and confus'd Idea, which they had of what is beautifull; as for the rest, they are sufficiently licentious, excepting onely Titian, who, of all the Lombards has preserv'd the greatest purity in his works. This barbarous manner of which I spoke, has been in great vogue from the year 611 to 1450. They who have restor'd Painting in Germany, (not having seen any of those fair Re­liques of Antiquity) have retain'd much of that barbarous manner. Amongst others Lucas van Leyden, a very laborious man, who with his Scholars has infected almost all Europe with his designs for Tapestry, which by the ignorant are call'd Ancient Hangings, (a greater honour than they deserve:) these I say are esteem'd beautifull by the greatest part of the World. I must acknow­ledge that I am amaz'd at so gross a stupidity, and that we of the French Nation should have so barbarous a Tast, as to take for beautifull those flat, childish and insipid Tapestries. Albert Du­rer, that famous German, who was contempora­ry [Page 95] to that Lucas, has had the like misfortune to fall into that absurd manner, because he had ne­ver seen any thing that was beautifull. Observe what Vasari tells us in the life of Marc Antonio (Ra­phael's Graver) having first commended Albert for his skill in graving, and his other Talents: "And in truth, says he, if this, so excellent, so exact, and so universal a Man, had been born in Tus­cany, as he was in Germany, and had form'd his studies according to those beautifull pieces which are seen at Rome, as the rest of us have done, he had prov'd the best Painter of all Italy, as he was the greatest Genius, and the most accomplish'd which Germany ever bore."

¶45. We love what we understand, &c. This period informs us, that though our inventions are never so good, though we are furnish'd by Nature with a noble Genius, and though we follow the impulse of it, yet this is not enough, if we learn not to un­derstand what is perfect and beautifull in Nature, to the end that having found it, we may be able to imitate it, and by this instruction we may be capacitated to observe those errors which she her self has made, and to avoid them, so as not to copy her in all sorts of subjects; such as she ap­pears to us without choice or distinction.

[Page 96] ¶50. As being the Sovereign Iudge of his own Art, &c. This word of Sovereign Iudge or Arbiter of his own Art, presupposes a painter to be fully instructed in all the parts of Painting; so that being set as it were above his Art, he may be the Master and Sovereign of it, which is no easie matter. Those of that profession are so seldom endow'd with that supreme Capacity, that few of them arrive to be good Judges of Painting: and I should many times make more account of their judgment, who are men of Sence, and yet have never touch'd a Pencil, than of the opinion which is given by the greatest part of Painters. All Painters therefore may be call'd Arbiters of their own Art, but to be Sovereign Arbiters belongs one­ly to knowing Painters.

¶52. And permit no—transient Beauties to escape his observation, &c. Those fugitive or transient Beau­ties are no other than such as we observe in Nature with a short and transient view, and which remain not long in their subjects. Such are the Passions of the Soul. There are of these sort of Beauties which last but for a moment; as the different Aires of an Assembly, upon the Sight of an un­expected and uncommon Object, some particu­larity of a violent Passion, some gracefull Action, a Smile, a Glance of an Eye, a disdainfull Look, [Page 97] a Look of Gravity, and a thousand other such like things; we may also place in the Catalogue of these flying Beauties, fine Clouds, such as or­dinarily follow Thunder or a Shower of Rain.

¶54. In the same manner that bare practice destitute of the Lights of Art, &c. We find in Quinctilian, that Pythagoras said, "The Theory is nothing with­out the practice. And what means (says the young­er Pliny) have we to retain what has been taught us," if we put it not in practice: we would not allow that Man to be an Orator who had the best thoughts imaginable, and who knew all the rules of Rhetorique if he had not acquir'd by ex­cercise the Art of using them, and of composing an excellent Discourse. Painting is a long Pil­grimage; what avails it to make all the necessa­ry preparatives for our Voyage, or to inform our selves of all the difficulties in the rode, if we do not actually begin the journey, and travel at a round rate, we shall never arrive at the end of it. And as it would be ridiculous to grow old in the study of every necessary thing, in an Art which comprehends so many several parts; so on the other hand to being the practice without knowing the rules, or at least with a light Tincture of them is to expose our selves to the scorn of those who can judge of Painting, and to make it apparent [Page 98] [...]o the World that we have no care of our repu­tation. Many are of opinion, that we need one­ly work and mind the practical part to become skilfull and able Painters; and that the Theory onely incumbers the mind, and tyes the hand: Such Men do just like the Squirrel, who is perpetually turning the Wheel in her Cage; she runs apace and wearies her self with her continual Motion, and yet gets no ground. 'Tis not enough for doing well to walk apace, says Quinctilian, but it is enough for walking apace to do well. 'Tis a bad excuse to say, I was but a little while about it: That gracefull Easiness, that celestial Fire which animates the work, proceeds not so much from having often done the like, as from having well understood what we have done. See what I shall farther say, in the 51st. Rule, which concerns easiness. Others there are who believe the Precepts and Spe­culation, to be of absolute necessity, but as they were ill instructed, and what they knew rather en­tangl'd than clear'd their understanding, so they oftentimes stop short; and if they perform a work, [...]tis not without Anxiety and Pain. And in truth, they are so much the more worthy of Compassi­on because their intentions are right, and if they advance not in knowledge as far as others, and are sometimes cast behind, yet they are ground­ed [Page 99] upon some sort of reason; for 'tis belonging to good [...]ence, not to go over fast when we appre­hend our selves to be out of the way, or even where we doubt which way we ought to take. Others on the contrary, being well instructed in good Maximes, and in the rules▪ of Art, after having done fine things yet spoil them all by endeavou­ring to make them better, which is a kind of o­ver-doing, and are so intoxicated with their work and with an earnest desire of being above all o­thers, that they suffer themselves to be deceiv'd with the appearance of an imaginary good. A­pelles one day admiring the prodigious Labour which he saw in a Picture of Protogenes,Pliny 35. 10. and knowing how much sweat it must have cost him, said, That Pro­togenes and himself were of equal strength; nay, that he yielded to him in some parts of Painting, but in this he surpass'd him, that Protogenes never knew when he had done well, and could never hold his hand; he also added in the nature of a Precept, that he wish'd all Painters would imprint this lesson deeply in their Me­mory, that with over-straining and earnestness of finish­ing their Pieces they often did them more harm than good.10. 3.There are some (says Quinctilian) who ne­ver satisfie themselves, never are contented with their first Notions and Expressions, but are continually chang­ing all, till nothing remains of their first Ideas. Others [Page 100] there are (continues he,) who dare never trust them­selves, nor resolve on any thing, and who being as it were intangl'd in their own Genius, imagine it to be a laudable correctness, when they form difficulties to them­selves in their own work. And to speak the truth, 'tis hard to discern whether of the two is in the greatest Error; he who is enamour'd of all he does, or he whom no­thing of his own can please. For it has happen'd to young Men, and often even to those of the greatest Wit, to waste their Spirits, and to consume themselves with Anxiety and Pain of their own giving, so far as even to doze upon their work with too much eagerness of doing well; I will now tell you how a reasonable man ought to carry himself on this occasion: 'Tis certain that we ought to use our best endeavour to give the last Perfection to our works; yet it is always to be un­derstood, that we attempt no more than what is in the compass of our Genius, and according to our Vein: for to make a true Progress, I grant that diligence and stu­dy are both requisite, but this study ought to have no mixture, either of Self-opinion, Obstinacy, or Anxiety; for which reason, if it blows a happy Gale we must set up all our Sails, though in so doing it sometimes happens that we follow those Motions where our natural heat is more powerfull than our care and our correctness, provided we abuse not this licence, and suffer not our selves to be deceiv'd by it, for all our productions cannot fail to [Page 101] please us at the moment of their Birth, as being new to us.

Because the greatest Beauties cannot always be experss'd for want of terms, ¶61. &c. I have learn'd from the mouth of Monsieur du Fresnoy, that he had oftentimes heard Guido say, That no man could give a rule of the greatest Beauties, and that the knowledge of them was so abstruse, that there was no manner of speaking which could express them. This comes just to what Quinctilian says, Declam. 19. That things incredible wanted words to express them: for some of them are too great and too much elevated to be comprehended by human discourse. From hence it proceeds that the best Iudges when they admire a noble Picture, seem to be fasten'd to it; and when they come to themselves you would say they had lost the use of Speech.

Pausiacâ torpes, insane, Tabellâ, says Lib. 2. Sat. 7. Horace, and Lib. 10. Ep. 22. Symmachus says, that the greatness of astonish­ment hinders men from giving a just applause. The I­talians say Opera da stupire, when a thing is wonder­fully good.

Those Master-pieces of Antiquity, which were the first Examples of this Art, &c.¶63. He means the most knowing and best Painters of Antiquity, that is to say, from the last two Ages to our times.

And also moderates that fury of the Fancy,¶66. &c. There is in the Latine Text, which produces onely [Page 102] Monsters, that is to say, things out of all proba­ble resemblance. Such things as are often found in the works of Pietro Testa: It often happens, says Dionysius Longinus, a grave Author, That some men imagining themselves to be possess'd with a divine Fu­ry; far from being carry'd into the rage of Baccha­nalians, often fall into toys and trifles which are only Puerilities.

¶69. A subject beautifull and noble, &c. Painting is not onely pleasing and divertising, but is also a kind of Memorial of those things which Antiqui­ty has had the most beautifull and the noble in their kinds, re-placing the History before our Eyes; as if the thing at that time were effectually in A­ction, even so far that beholding the Pictures wherein those noble deeds are represented, we find our selves stung with a desire of endeavour­ing somewhat which is like that Action there ex­press'd, as if we were reading it in the History. The Beauty of the subject inspires us with Love and Admiration for the Pictures. As the fair mixture causes us to enter into the subject which it imitates and imprints it the more deeply into our Imagination and our Memory: these are two Chains which are interlink'd, which contain, and are at the same time contain'd, and whose matter is equally precious and estimable.

[Page 103] And well season'd, ¶72. &c. Aliquid salis, somewhat that is ingenious, fine and picquant, extraordina­ry of a high relish, proper to instruct and to clear the Understanding. The Painters ought to do like the Orators, De Opt. Gen. Orat. says Cicero. Let them instruct, let them divertise, and let them move us; this is what is properly meant by the word Salt.

On which the whole Machine (as it may be call'd) of the Picture is to be dispos'd, &c.¶74. 'Tis not with­out reason, nor by chance, that our Author uses the word Machine. A Machine is a just assembling or Combination of many pieces to produce one and the same effect. And the Disposition in a Pi­cture is nothing else but an Assembling of many parts, of which we are to foresee the agreement with each other: And the justness to produce a beautifull effect, as you shall see in the fourth Precept, which is concerning the Oeconomy. This is also call'd the Composition, by which is meant the distribution and orderly placing of things, both in general and in particular.

Which is what we properly call Invention, &c.¶75. Our Author establishes three parts of Painting, the INVENTION, the DESIGN or DRAWING, and the COLOURING, which in some places he also calls the CRO­MATIQUE. Many Authors who have writ­ten [Page 104] of Painting, multiply the parts according to their pleasure; and without giving you or my self the trouble of discussing this matter, I will onely tell you, that all the parts of Painting which others have nam'd, are reducible into these three which are mention'd by our Author.

For which reason, I esteem this division to be the justest: and as these three parts are Essential to Painting, so no man can be truly call'd a Painter who does not posses them all together: In the same manner that we cannot give the name of Man to any Creature which is not compos'd of Body, Soul, and Reason, which are the three parts necessarily constituent of a Man. How there­fore can they pretend to the Quality of Painters, who can onely copy and purloyn the works of others who therein employ their whole industry, and with that onely Talent would pass for able Painters. And do not tell me that many great Ar­tists have done this; for I can easily answer you that it had been their better course, to have abstain'd from so doing; that they have not thereby done themselves much honour, and that copying was not the best part of their reputation. Let us then conclude that all Painters ought to acquire this part of Excellence; not to do it, is to want cou­rage and not dare to shew themselves. 'Tis to [Page 105] creep and grovel on the ground, 'tis to deserve this just reproach, O imitatores servum pecus: 'Tis with Painters, in reference to their productions, as it is with Orators. A good beginning is al­ways costly to both: much sweat and labour is requir'd, but 'tis better to expose our works and leave them liable to censure for fifteen years, th [...]n to blush for them at the end of fifty. On this account 'tis necessary for a Painter to begin early to do somewhat of his own, and to accustom him­self to it by continual excercise; for so long as endea­vouring to raise himself, he fears falling, he shall be always on the ground. See the following ob­servation.

Invention is a kind of Muse, ¶76. which being possess'd of the other advantages common to her Sisters, &c. The Attributes of the Muses are often taken for the Muses themselves; and it is in this sence, that Invention is here call'd a Muse. Authors ascribe to each of them in particular the Sciences which they have (say they) invented; and in gen [...]ra [...] the belle lettere, because they contain almost all th [...] others. These Sciences are those advantages [...] which our Author speaks, and with which h [...] would have a Painter furnish himself sufficiently and in truth, there is no man, though his under standing be very mean who knows not and who [Page 106] finds not of himself how much Learning is neces­sary to animate his Genius, and to compleat it. And the reason of this is, that they who have stu­died, have not onely seen and learn'd many ex­cellent things in their course of studies, but that also they have acquir'd by that exercise a great Facility of profiting themselves by reading good Authors. They who will make profession of Painting, must heap up treasures out of their read­ing and there will find many wonderfull means of raising themselves above others, who can onely creep upon the ground, or if they elevate them­selves, 'tis onely to fall from a higher place, be­cause they serve themselves of other Men's Wings, neither understanding their Use nor Vertue: 'Tis true that it is not the present Mode for a Painter to be so knowing: and if any of them in these times be found to have either a great Wit or much Learning, the multitude would not fail to say, that it was great pity, and that the Youth might have come to somewhat in the practical part, or it may be in the Exchequer, or in the Families of some Noble-men. So wretch'd is the Destiny of Painting in these later ages. By Learning 'tis not so much the knowledge of the Greek and Latine Tongue, which is here to be understood as the [...]eading of good Authors, and understanding those [Page 107] things of which they treat: for Translations being made of the best Authors, there is not any Painter who is not capable in some sort of understand­ing those Books of Humanity, which are com­prehended under the name of the belle lettere. In my opinion the Books which are of the most ad­vantage to those of the Profession, are these which follow.

The Bible.

The History of Iosephus.

The Roman History of Coeffeteau, (for those who understand the French,) and that of Titus Li­vius, translated by Vigenere, with the Notes which are both curious and profitable. They are in two Volumes.

Homer, whom Pliny calls the Fountain-head of Invention and noble thoughts.

Virgil, and in him, particularly his Aeneids.

The Ecclesiastical History of Godeau, or the Abridgement of Baronius.

Ovid's Metamorphoses, translated into French by Du Rier, and in English by Sandys.

Tableaux. The Pictures of Philostratus.

Plutarch's Lives, translated from the Greek by several hands, in 5 Volumes.

Pausanias, though I doubt whether that Author be translated. He is wonderfull for giving of [Page 108] great Ideas; and chiefly, for such as are to be plac'd at a distance, (or cast behind) and for the com­bining of Figures. This Author in conjunction with Homer, make a good mingle of what is plea­sing and what is perfect.

The Religion of the Ancient Romans, by Du Choul; and in English, Godwin's Roman Antiqui­ties.

Trajan's Pillar, with the discourse which ex­plains the Figures on it, and instructs a Painter in those things with which he is undispensibly to be acquainted. This is one of the most prin­cipal and most learned Books, which we have for the Modes, the Customs, the Arms, and the Reli­gion of the Romans. Iulio Romano made his chief studies on the Marble it self.

The Books of Medals.

The Bass-Reliefs of Perrier and others, with their Explanations at the bottom of the Pages, which give a perfect understanding of them.

Horace's Art of Poetry, by the Earl of Rosco­mon, because of the relation which there is betwixt the Rules of Poetry and those of Painting.

And other Books of the like Nature, the read­ing of which are profitable to warm the Imaginati­on: such as in English, are Spencer's Fairy Queen; The Paradise lost of Milton; Tasso translated by [Page 109] Fairfax; and the History of Polybius, by Sir Hen­ry Shere.

Some Romances also are very capable of en­tertaining the Genius, and of strengthening it by the noble Ideas which they give of things; but there is this danger in them, that they almost al­ways corrupt the truth of History.

There are also other Books which a Painter may use upon some particular occasions and onely when he wants them: Such are,

The Mythology of the Gods.

The Images of the Gods.

The Iconology.

The Tables of Hyginus.

The practical Perspective.

And some others not here mention'd.

Thus it is necessary, that they who are desirous of a name in Painting, should read at leisure times these Books with diligence, and make their obser­vations of such things as they find for their pur­pose in them, and of which they believe they may sometime or other have occasion; let the Imagi­nation be employ'd in this reading, and let them make Sketches and light Touches of those Ideas which that reading forms in their Imagination. Quinctilian, Tacitus, or whoever was the Author of that Dialogue which is call'd in Latine De cau­sis [Page 110] corrup [...]ae eloquentiae, says, That Painting resem­bles Fi [...]e which is [...]ed by the Fuel, inflam'd by Moti­on, and ga [...]hers strength by burning: For the pow­er of the Genius is onely augmented by the abundance of matter to supply it; and 'tis impossible to make a great and magnificent work, if that matter be wanting or not dispos'd rightly. And therefore a Painter who has a Genius, gets nothing by long think­ing and taking all imaginable care to make a noble Composition if he be not assisted by those studies which I have mention'd. All that he can gain by it, is onely to weary his Imagina­tion, and to travel over many vast Countries without dwelling on any one thing, which can give him satisfaction.

All the Books which I have named may be ser­viceable to all sorts of Persons as well as to Pain­ters. As for those Books which were of particu­lar use to them, they were unfortunately lost in those Ages which were before the Invention of Printing. Neglecting the Copyers probably out of ignorance to transcribe them, as not finding themselves capable of making theThat is to the Eye by Diagrams and ske [...]ches, &c. demonstrative Figures. In the mean time, 'tis evidently known by the reltaion of Authors, that we have lost fifty Vo­lumes of them at the least. See Pliny in his 35th. Book; and Franc. Iunius in his 3d. Chapter of [Page 111] the 2d. Book of the Painting of the Ancients. Ma­ny Moderns have written of it with small suc­cess, taking a large compass without coming di­rectly to the point, and talking much without saying any thing: yet some of them have acquit­ted themselves successfully enough. Amongst o­thers Leonardo da Vinci (though without method;) Paulo Lomazzo, whose Book is good for the great­est part, but whose discourse is too diffusive and very tiresome. Iohn Baptist Armenini, Franciscus Iunius, Monsieur de Cambray, to whose Preface I rather invite you than to his Book; we are not to forget what Monsieur Felebien has written of the Picture of Alexander by the hand of Monsieur Le Brun: besides that the work it self is very elo­quent, the Foundations which he establishes for the making of a good Picture are wonderfully so­lid. Thus I have given you very near the Libra­ry of a Painter, and a Catalogue of such Books as he ought either to read himself or have read to him, at least if he will not satisfie himself with possessing Painting as the most sordid of all Trades and not as the noblest of all Arts.

'Tis the business of a Painter in his choice of Po­stures, &c.¶77. See here the most important Precept of all those which relate to Painting. It belongs pro­perly to a Painter alone, and all the rest are bor­row'd [Page 112] either from Learning, or from Physick, or from the Mathematicks, or in short, from other Arts, for it is sufficient to have a natural Wit and Learning to make that which we call in Painting a good Invention, for the design we must have some insight into Anatomy, to make Buildings, and other things in Perspective, we must have know­ledge in the Mathematicks, and other Arts, will bring in their Quota's to furnish out the matter of a good Picture; but for the Oeconomy or ordering of the whole together, none but onely the Painter can understand it, because the end of the Artist is plea­singly to deceive the Eyes, which he can never accomplish if this part be wanting to him. A Picture may make an ill effect, though the Inven­tion of it be truly understood, the Design of it cor­rect and the Colours of it the most beautifull and fine that can be employ'd in it. And on the con­trary we may behold other Pictures ill invented, ill design'd and painted with the most common Colours, which shall make a very good effect, and which shall more pleasingly deceive; No­thing pleases a man so much as order, In Oecono­mico. says Xenophon: And Horace, in his Art of Poetry.

This Precept is properly the use and applica­tion of all the rest; for which reason it requires much judgment. You are therefore, in such manner to foresee things, that your Picture may be painted in your Head: i. e. before it come up­on the Canvas. When Manander (says a cele­brated Authour)Comm. vetus. had order'd the Scenes of his Co­medy, he held it to be, in a manner, already made; though he had not begun the first Verse of it. 'Tis an undoubted truth, that they who are endu'd with this foresight, work with incredible pleasure and facility; others on the contrary are perpetually changing and rechanging their work, which when it is ended leaves them but anxiety for all their pains. It seems to me that these sorts of Pictures remind us of those old Gothique Castles, made at several times, and which hold together onely as it were by Rags and Patches.

It may be inferr'd from that which I have said, that the Invention and the Disposition are two several and distinct parts in effect, though the last of them depends upon the first, and that common­ly 'tis comprehended under it: yet we are to take [Page 114] take great care that we do not confound them. The Invention simply finds out the subjects, and makes a choice of them suitable to the History which we treat; and the Disposition distributes those things which are thus found each to its pro­per place, and accommodates the Figures and the Grouppes in particular, and the Tout Ensemble (or whole together) of the Picture in general: so that this Oeconomy produces the same effect in relation to the Eyes, as a Consort of Musick to the Ears.

There is one thing of great consequence to be observ'd in the Oeconomy of the whole work, which is, that at the first Sight we may be given to un­derstand the quality of the subject: and that the Picture at the first Glance of the Eye, may in­spire us with the principal passion of it: for Ex­ample, if the subject, which you have undertaken to treat be of joy, 'tis necessary that every thing which enters into your Picture should contribute to that Passion, so that the Beholders shall im­mediately be mov'd with it. If the Subject be mournfull, let every thing in it have a stroke of sadness; and so of the other Passion and Quali­ties of the Subjects.

Let your Compositions be conformable to the Text of Ancient Authors, ¶81. &c. Take care that the Licences. [Page 115] of Painters be rather to adorn the History, than to corrupt it. And though Horace gives permis­sion to Painters and Poets to dare every thing,Art of Po [...]try. yet he encourages neither of them, to make things out of nature or verisimility; for he adds immediate­ly after,

The Thoughts of a Man endued with good Sence are not of kin to visionary madness; Men in Feavers are onely capable of such Dreams. Treat then the Subjects of your Pictures with all possible faithfulness, and use your Licences with a becoming boldness, provided they be ingeni­ous, and not immoderate and extravagant.

Take care that whatsoever makes nothing to your Subject, ¶83. &c. Nothing deadens so much the Com­position of a picture, as Figures which are not appertaining to the Subject: We may call them pleasantly enough, Figures to be let.

This part of Painting so rarely met with, and so difficult to be found, ¶87. &c. That is to say, Invention.

[Page 116] Which was stollen by Prometheus, &c.¶89. The Po­ets feign that Prometheus from'd out of Clay, so fair a Statue, that Minerva one day having long admir'd it, said to the workman, that if he thought there was any thing in Heaven which could add to its perfection, he might ask it of her; but he being ignorant of what might be most beautifull in the Habitation of the Gods, de­sir'd leave that he might be carry'd thither, and being there to make his choice. The Goddess bore him thither upon her Shield, and so soon as he had perceiv'd that all Celestial things were animated with Fire, he stole a Parcel of it, which he carry'd down to Earth, and applying it to the stomach of his Statue enliven'd the whole Bo­dy.

That it happens not to every one to see Corinth,¶92. &c. This is an Ancient Proverb which signefies, that every man has not the Genius not the Dispo­sition that is necessary for the Sciences, neither yet a Capacity fit for the undertaking of things which are great and difficult. Corinth was hereto­fore the Centre of all Arts, and the place whither they sent all those whom they would render ca­pable of any thing.Pro lege Man. Cicero calls it the Light of all Graeci [...].

[Page 117] It arriv'd at length to that height of perfection, ¶95. &c. This was in the time of Alexander the Great, and lasted even to Augustus; under whose reign Paint­ing fell to great decay. But under the Emperors, Domitian, Nerva and Trajan, it appear'd in its primitive lustre, which lasted to the time of Phocas the Emperor, when vices prevailing over the Arts, and War being kindled through all Europe, and especially in Lombardy, (occasion'd by the irruption of the Hunns,) Painting was totally ex­tinguish'd. And if some few in the succeeding Ages strain'd themselves to revive it, it was ra­ther in finding out the most glaring, gawdy and costly Colours, than in imitating the harmoni­ous Simplicity of those illustrious Painters who preceded them. At length, in the fourteenth Century, some there were who began to set it again on foot. And it may truly be said, that about the end of the fifteenth Age, and the be­ginning of our Sixteenth it appear'd in much Splendor by means of many knowing Men in all parts of Italy, who were in perfect possession of it. Since those happy times which were so fruitfull of the noble Arts, we have also had some knowing Painters but very few in number, because of the little inclination which Sovereign Princes have had for Painting: but thanks to the zeal of our [Page 118] Great Monarch, and to the care of his first Mi­nister, Monsieur Colbert, we may shortly behold it more flourishing than ever.

Though they are not very much inferior, ¶102. &c. Our Author means this of Michael Angelo, and other able Sculptors of that time.

A Posture therefore must be chosen according to their gusto, ¶103. &c. This is the second part of Painting, which is call'd Design or Drawing; as the Ancients haue sought as much as possible whatsoever con­tributes to the making of a perfect Body, so they haue diligently examin'd in what consists the beau­ty of good postures, as their works sufficiently in­form us.

The parts of it must be great, ¶104. &c. Yet not so great as to exceed a just proportion. But he means that in noble posture, the greatest parts of the Body ought to appear foremost rather than the less, for which reason in another passage he vehe­mently forbids the foreshortinings, because they make the parts appear little, though of themselves they are great.

Large or ample, ¶104. &c. To avoid the dry man­ner, such as is most commonly the Nature which Lucas van Leyden and Albert Durer have imi­tated.

[Page 119] Unequal in their Position, ¶105. so that those which are before must contrast or oppose those others which are him­dermost, and all of them be equally balanc'd on their Centre, &c. The Motions are never natural, when the Members are not equally balanc'd on their Centre: and these Members cannot be ba­lanc'd on their Centre in an equality of weight, but they must contrast each other. A Man who dances on the Rope, makes a manifest Demon­stration of this Truth. The Body is a weight balanc'd on its Feet, as upon two Pivots, And though one of the Feet most commonly bears the weight, yet we see that the whole weight rests Centrally upon it. Insomuch, that if, for Exam­ple, one Arms is stretched out, it must of necessity be either that the other Arm, or the Leg be cast backward, or the Body somewhat bow'd on the opposite Side, so as to make an Equilibrium, and be in a Situation which is unforc'd. It may be, though seldom (if it be not in old Men) that the Feet bear equally; and for that time half the weight is equally distributed on each Foot. You ought to make use of the same Prudence, if one Foot bear three parts in four of the Burthen, and that the other Foot bore the remaining part. This in general is what may be said of the Balance, and the Libration of the Body. In particular, there [Page 120] may many things be said which are very usefull and curious, of which you may satisfie your selves in Leonardo da Vinci. He has done wonder­fully well on that subject, and one may truly say that the Ponderation, is the best and soundest part of all his Book of Painting. It begins at the 181st. Chapter, and concludes at the 273d. I would also advise you to read Paulo Lomazzo in his 6th. Book, Chapter 4th. Del moto del Corpo humano, that is, the motions of a human Body. You will there find many things of great profit; for what concerns the Contrast, I will onely say in general, that no­thing gives so much grace and life to Figures. See the 43d. Precept, and what I say upon it in the Remarks.

The parts must have their out lines in Waves re­sembling Flames, ¶107. or the gliding of a Snake upon the ground, &c. The reason of this proceeds from the action of the Muscles, which are as so many Well-buckets; when one of them acts and draws, 'tis necessary that the other must obey; so that the Muscles which act, drawing always towards their principle, and those which obey stretching in length and on the side of their insertion, it must needs follow that the parts must be design'd in Waves: but beware lest in giving this form to the parts you do not break the Bones which su­stain [Page 121] them and which always must make them appear firm.

This Maxim is not altogether so general, but that actions may be found where the masses of the Muscles are situate one over against another, but this is not very common. The out-lines which are in waves, give not only a grace to the Parts, but also to the whole Body, when it is only sup­ported on one Leg. As we see in the Figures of Antinous, Meleager, the Venus of Medices, that of the Vatican, the two others of Borghese, and that of Flora, of the Goddess Vesta, the two Bacchus's of Borghese, and that of Ludovisio, and in fine of the greatest number of the Ancient Figures, which are standing, and which always rest more upon one Foot than the other. Besides, that the Figures and their Parts, ought almost always to have a ser­pentine and flaming form naturally, these sorts of out-lines have, I know not what of life and see­ming motion in them, which very much resem­bles the activity of the Flame, and of the Serpent.

According to the knowledge of them, ¶112. which is given us by Anatomy, &c. This part is nothing known at present amongst our modern Painters. I have shewn the profit and even the necessity of it in the Preface of a little Epitome which I have made, and which Monsieur Torrebat has Publish'd. I [Page 122] know there are some who think this Science a kind of Monster, and believe it to be of no Advan­tage, either because they are mean spirited, or that they have not consider'd the want which they have of it; nor reflected as they ought, on its importance: contenting themselves with a certain track, to which they have been us'd. But cer­tain it is, that whoever is capable of such a thought, will never be capable of becoming a great Designer.

Design'd after the manner of the Graecians, ¶113. &c. that is to say, according to the Ancient Statues, which for the most part come from Greece.

Let there be a perfect relation betwixt the parts and the whole, ¶114. &c. or let them agree well together, which is the same thing. His meaning in this place, is to speak of the justness of proportions; and of the harmony which they make with one another. Many famous Authours have thorough­ly treated this matter. Amongst others Paulo Lomazzo, whose first Book speaks of nothing else: But there are so many subdivisions, that a Reader Must have a good Brain, not to be turn'd with them. See those which our Author has remark'd in general, on the most beautifull Statues of the Ancients. I believe them to be so much the bet­ter, as they are more conformable to those, [Page 123] which Vitruvius gives us, in the first Chapter of his third Book: And which he tells us, that he learn'd from the Artists themselves: because in the Pre­face to his Seventh Book, he makes his boast to have had them from others, and particularly from Architects and Painters. ‘The Measures of a Humane Body.’

The Ancients have commonly allow'd eight Heads to their Figures; though some of them have but [...]even. But we ordinarily divide the Fi­gure intoThis depends on the Age & Quality of the persons. The Apollo and Venus of Me­dices have more than ten Faces. ten Faces: that is to say, from the Crown of the Head to the Sole of the Foot in the following manner.

From the Crown of the Head to the Forehead, is the third part of a Face.

The Face begins, at the root of the lowest Hairs, which are upon the Forehead; and ends at the bottom of the Chin.

The Face is divided into three proportionable parts; the first contains the Forehead, the second the Nose, and the third the Mouth and the Chin.

From the Chin, to the pit betwixt the Collar­bones are two lengths of a Nose.

From the pit betwixt the Collar-bones, to the bottom of the Breast one Face.

[Page 124] The Appolo has a Nose more. From the bottom of the Breasts, to the Na­vel one Face.

The Apollo has half a Nose more: and the upper half of the Ve­nus de Med [...] ­ces is to the lower part of the Belly, and not [...]o the Pri­vy parts. From the Navel to the Genitories, one Face.

From the Genitories to the upper part of the Knee, two Faces.

The Knee contains half a Face.

From the lower part of the Knee to the Anckle, two Faces.

From the Anckle to the Sole of the Foot, half a Face.

A Man, when his Arms are stretch'd out, is, from the longest Finger of his Right hand, to the longest of his left, as broad as he is long.

From one side of the Breasts to the other, two Faces.

The bone of the Arm call'd Humerus is the length of two Faces, from the Shoulder to the Elbow.

From the end of the Elbow to the root of the little Finger, the bone call'd Cubitus, with part of the Hand, contains two Faces.

From the box of the Shoulder-blade, to the pit betwixt the Collar-bones, one Face.

If you would be satisfy'd in the Measures of breadth, from the extremity of one Finger to the other; so that this breadth shou'd be equal to the length of the Body, you must observe that the [Page 125] boxes of the Elbows with the Humerus, and of the Humerus with the Shoulder-blade, bear the proportion of half a Face, when the Arms are Stretch'd out.

The Sole of the Foot is the sixth part of the Figure.

The Hand is the length of a Face.

The Thumb contains a Nose.

The inside of the Arm, from the place where the Muscle disappears, which makes the Breast, call'd the Pectoral Muscle, to the middle of the Arm, four Noses.

From the middle of the Arm to the begining of the Hand, five Noses.

The longest Toe, is a Nose long.

The two utmost parts of the Teats, and the pit betwixt the Collar-bones of a Woman make an equailateral triangle.

For the breadth; of the Limbs no precise mea­sures can be given; because the measures them­selves are changeable according to the quality of the persons; and according to the movement of the Muscles.

If you wou'd know the Proportions more par­ticularly, you may see them in Paulo Lomazzo: 'tis good to read them, once at least, and to make Remarks on them; every man according to his [Page 126] own judgment, and according to the occasion which he has for them.

Though Perspective cannot be call'd a certain Rule, ¶117. &c. That is to say, purely of it self, without pru­dence, and discretion. The greatest part of those, who understand it, desiring to practise it too re­gularly, often make such things as shock the sight, though they are within the Rules. If all those great Painters, who have left us such fair Plat­forms, had rigorously observ'd it in their Figures, they had not wholly found their account in it. They had indeed made things more regularly true, but withall very unpleasing. There is great appearance that the Architects, and Statuaries of former times, have not found it to their purpose always; nor have follow'd the Geometrical Part so exactly as Perspective ordains. For He who wou'd imitate the Frontispiece of the Rotunda ac­cording to Perspective, wou'd be grosly deceiv'd; since the Columns which are at the extremities have more diameter, than those which are in the middle. The Cornish of the Palazzo Farnese, which makes so beautifull an effect below, when view'd more nearly, will be found not to have its just measures. In the Pillar of Trajan, we see that the highest Figures are greater than those be­low; and make an effect quite contrary to Per­spective, [Page 127] increasing according to the measure of their distance. I know there is a Rule which teaches a way of making them in that manner; and which though 'tis to be found in some Books of Perspective, yet notwithstanding is no rule of Perspective. Because 'tis never made use of, but onely when we find it for our purpose; for if (for example) the Figures which are at the top of Trajan's Pillar, were but as great as those which are at the bottom, they wou'd not be for all that against Perspective: and thus we may say, with more reason, that it is a rule of Decorum in Perspective to ease the sight, and to render ob­jects more agreeable: 'Tis on this general obser­vation, that we may establish in Perspective, the rules of Decorum (or convenience) whensoever occasion shall offer. We may also see another Example in the base of the Farnesian Hercules; which is not upon the level, but on an easie de­clivity on the advanc'd part, that the feet of the Figure may not be hidden from the sight, to the end that it may appear more pleasing: which the noble Authors of these things have done, not in contempt of Geometry and Perspective, but for the satisfaction of the Eyes, which was the end they propos'd to themselves in all their works.

[Page 128] We must therefore understand Perspective, as a Science which is absolutely necessary; and which a Painter must not want: Yet without Sub­jecting our selves so wholly to it, as to become slaves of it. We are to follow it, when it leads us in a pleasing way, and that it shows us pleasing things; but for some time to forsake it, if it lead us through mire, or to a precipice. Endeavour af­ter that which is aiding to your Art, and conve­nient, but avoid whatsoever is repugnant to it; as the 59th rule teaches.

Let every Member be made for its own Head,¶126. &c. That is to say, you ought not to set the Head of a Young man on the Body of an Old one; nor make a white Hand for a wither'd Body. Not to habit a Hercules in Taffeta; nor an Apollo in course stuff: Queens and persons of the first qua­lity, whom you wou'd make appear Majestical, are not to be too negligently dress'd or indisha­bile, no more than Old men: The Nymphs are not to be overcharg'd with drapery: in fine, let all that which accompanies your Figures, make them Known for what effectively they are.

Let the Figures to which Art cannot give a Voice,¶128. imitate the Mutes in their Actions, &c.

Mutes having no other way of speaking (or expressing their thoughts) but onely by their ge­stures. [Page 129] and their actions, 'tis certain that they do it in a manner more expressive than those who have the use of Speech, for which reason the Pi­cture which is mute ought to imitate them, so as to make it self understood.

Let the principal Figure of the Subject, ¶129. &c. 'Tis one of the greatest blemishes of a Picture, not to give knowledge at the first Sight of the Subject which it represents. And truly nothing is more perplexing, than to extinguish as it were, the prin­cipal Figure by the opposition of some others, which present themselves to us at the first view, and which carry a greater lustre. An Orator, who had undertaken to make a Panegyrick on Alexan­der the Great, and who had emply'd the strong­est Figures of his Rhetorique in the praise of Buce­phalus, would do quite the contrary to that which was expected from him; Because it would be be­liev'd that he rather took the Horse for his Sub­ject than the Master. A Painter is like an Orator in this. He must dispose his matter in such sort, that all things may give place to his principal Subject. And if the other Figures, which accom­pany it, and are onely as Accessaries there, take up the chief place, and make themselves most remarkable, either by the Beauty of their Colours, or by the Splendour of the Light, which strikes upon them, they will catch the Sight, they will [Page 130] Stop it short, and not suffer it to go further than themselves, till after some considerable space of time to find out that which was not discern'd at first. The principal Figure in a Picture is like a king among his Courtiers, whom we ought to know at the first Glance, and who ought to dim the Lustre of all his Attendants. Those Painters who proceed otherwise, do just like those who in the relation of a story ingage themselves so foolishly in long digressions, that they are forc'd to conclude quite another way than they began.

Let the Members be combin'd in the same manner as the Figures are, ¶132. &c. I cannot better compare a Grouppe of Figures than to a Consort of Voices, which supporting themselves all together by their different parts make a Harmony, which pleasing­ly fills the Ears and flatters them; but if you come to separate them, and that all the parts are equally heard as loud as one another, they will stun you to that degree, that you would fancy your Ears were torn in pieces. 'Tis the same of Figures; if you so assemble them, that some of them sustain the others, and make them appear; and that all together they make but one entire Whole, then your Eyes will be fully satisfied: But if on the contrary, you divide them, your Eyes will suffer by seeing them all together dis­pers'd, [Page 131] or each of them in particular. All together, because the visual Rays are multiply'd by the Multiplicity of Objects. Each of them in particular; because, if you six your Sight on one, those which are about it will strike you and attract your Eyes to them, which extremely Pains them in this sort of Separation and Diversity of Ob­jects, The Eye, for example, is satisfied with the Sight of one single Grape, and is distracted, if it carries it self at one view, to look upon many se­veral Grapes which lie Scatter'd on a Table, we must have the same regard for the Members; they aggrouppe and contrast each other in the same manner as the Figures do. Few Painters have observ'd this Precept as they ought, which is a most solid Foundation for the Harmony of a Picture.

The Figures in the Grouppes ought not to be like each other in their Motions, ¶137. &c. Take heed in this con­trast to do nothing that is extravagant, and let your Postures be always natural. The Draperies, and all things that accompany Figures, may enter into the contrast with the Members, and with the Figures themselves: And this is what our Poet Means in these words of his Verses, Caetera frangant.

[Page 132] One side of the Picture must not be void, ¶145. while the other is fill'd &c. This sort of Symmetry, when it appears not affected, fills the Picture pleasing­ly; k [...]eps it in a kind of balance; and infinitely delights the Eyes, which thereby contemplate the Work with more repose.

As a Play is seldom good, ¶152. in which there are too many Actors, &c. Annibal Caracci did not be­livee that a Picture cou'd be good, in which there were above twelve Figures. It was Albano who told our Authour this, and from his mouth I had it. The Reasons which he gave were, first, That he belive'd there ought not be above three great Grouppes of Figures in any Picture; And Second­ly, That Silence and Majesty were of necessity to be there, to render it beautifull; and neither the one nor the other cou'd possibly be in a multitude and crowd of Figures. But nevertheless, if you are constrain'd by the Subject: (As for Example, If you Painted the Day of Iudgment, the Massacre of the Innocents, a Battel, &c.) On such occasions you are to dispose things by great masses of Lights and Shadows, and union of Colours, without trou­bling your self to finish every thing in particular, ind [...]pendently one of the other, as is usual with Painters of a little Genius; and whose Souls are uncapable of embracing a great Design, or a great Composition.

The Extremities of the Ioints must be seldom hidden, ¶162. and the Extremities or End of the Feet never, &c. These Extremities of the Joints are as it were the Hafts or Handles of the Members. For example, the Shoulders, the Elbows, the Thighs, and the Knees. And if a Drapery should be found on these ends of the Joints, 'tis the duty of Science and of Decorum, to mark them by Folds, but with great discretion; for what concerns the Feet, though they should be hidden by some part of the Drapery; nevertheless, if they are mark'd by Folds, and their shape be distinguish'd, they are suppos'd to be seen. The word never, is not here to be taken in the strictest Sense; he means but this, so rarely, that it may seem we should [Page 134] avoid all occasions of dispensing with the Rule.

The Figures which are behind others, ¶164. have neither Grace nor Vigour, &c. Raphael and Iulio Roma­no, have perfectly observ'd this Maxime, and Ra­phael especially in his last Works.

Avoid also those Lines and Contours which are e­qual, ¶169. which make Parallels, &c. He means prin­cipally to speak of the Postures so order'd, that they make together those Geometrical Figures which he condemns.

Be not so strictly tied to Nature, ¶176. &c. This Precept is against two sorts of Painters; first a­gainst those who are so scrupulously tied to Na­ture, that they can do nothing without her, who copy her just as they believe they see her, without adding or retrenching any thing, though never so little, either for the Nudities or for the Drape­ries. And secondly, against those who Paint e­very thing by Practice, without being able to subject themselves to retouch any thing, or to examine by the Nature. These last, properly speaking, are the Libertines of Painting, as there are Libertines of Religion; who have no other Law but the vehemence of their Inclinations which they are resolv'd not to overcome: and in the Same man­ner the Libertines of Painting, have no other mo­del but a Rhodomontado Genius, and very irragu­lar, [Page 134] which violently hurries them away. Though these two sorts of Painters, are both of them in vicious Extremes, yet nevertheless the former sort seems to be the more supportable; because though they do not imitate Nature as she is accompa­ny'd by all her Beauties, and her Graces, yet at least they imitate that Nature, which we know and daily see. Instead of which the others show us a wild or salvage Nature, which is not of our acquaintance, and which seems to be of a quite new Creation.

Whom you must have always present as a witness to the truth, ¶178. &c. This passage seems to be won­derfully well said. The nearer a Picture ap­proaches to the truth, The better it is; and though the Painter, who is its Author, be the first Judge of the Beauties which are in it, he is nevertheless ob­lig'd not to pronounce it, till he has first consult­ed Nature, who is an irreproachable evidence, and who will frankly, but withall truly tell you its Defects and Beauties, if you compare it with her Work.

And of all other things which discover to us the Thoughts and inventions of the Graecians,¶188. &c. As good Books, such as are Homer and Pausanias; the prints which we see of the Antiquities, may extremely contribute to from our Genius, and to [Page 136] give us great Ideas; in the same manner as the Writings of good Authors, are capable of form­ing a good Style in those who are desirous of writing well.

If you have but one single Figure to work upon, ¶193. &c. The reason of this is, That there being nothing to attract the Sight but this onely Figure, the Visual Rays will not be too much divided by the Diver­sity of Colours and Draperies; but onely take heed to put in nothing, which shall appear too sharp or too hard; and be mindfull of the 4th. Precept, which says, that two Extremities are ne­ver to touch each other either in Colour or in Light; but that there must be a mean, partaking of the one and of the other.

Let the Drapery be nobley Spread upon the Body; ¶195. let the Folds be large, &c. As Raphael practis'd, after he had forsaken the manner of Pietro Perugi­no, and principally in his latter Works.

And let them follow the order of the parts, ¶196. &c. As the fairest pieces of Antiquity will show us. And take heed, that the folds do not only follow the order of the parts, but that they also mark the most considerable Muscles; because that those Fi­gures, where the drapery and the naked part are seen both together, are much more gracefull than the other.

[Page 137] Without sitting too streight upon them, &c. Paint­ers ought not to imitate the Ancients in this cir­cumstance; the ancient Statuaries ma [...] their Draperies of wet Linen, On purpose to make them sit close and streight to the parts of their Figures, for doing which they had great reason; and in following which the Painters would be much in the wrong: and you shall see upon what grounds those great Genius's of Antiquity, finding that it was impossible to imitate with Marble the fineness of stuffs or garments which is not to be discern'd but by the Colours, the Reflexes, and more espe­cially by the Lights and Shadows, finding it I say out of their power to dispose of those things, thought they could not do better nor more pru­dentially, than to make use of such Draperies as hinder'd not from seeing through their Folds, the delicacy, of the Flesh, and the purity of the Out­lines; things which truly speaking they possest in the last perfection, and which in all appearance were the subject of their chief study. But Painters, on the contrary, who are to deceive the Sight, quite otherwise than Statuaries, are bound to imi­tate the different sorts of Garments, such as they naturally seem; and such as Colours, Reflexes, Lights and Shadows (of all which they are Ma­sters) can make them appear: Thus we see that [Page 138] those who have made the nearest imitations of Nature, have made use of such Stuffs (or Gar­ments) which are familiar to our Sight, and these they have imitated with so much Art that in beholding them we are pleas'd that they de­ceive us; such were Titian, Paul Veronese, Tin­toret, Rubens, Van Dyck, and the rest of the good Colourists, who have come nearest to the truth of Nature: Instead of which, others who have scru­pulously tied themselves to the practice of the An­cients, in their Draperies, have made their works crude and dry; and by this means have found out the lamentable secret how to make their Fi­gures harder than even the Marble it self. As An­drea Mantegna, and Pietro Perugino have done, and Raphael also had much of that way in his first Works, in which we behold many small foldings often repleited, which look like so many Whip­cords. 'Tis true these repetitions are seen in the Ancient Statues, and they are very proper there. Because they who made use of wet Linen, and close Draperies, to make their Figures look more tender, reasonably foresaw that the Members would be too naked, if they left not more than two or three Folds, scarce appearing such as those sorts of Draperies afford the Sight, and therefore have us'd those Repetitions of many Folds, yet [Page 139] in such a manner that the Figures are always soft and tender, and thereby seem opposite to the hardness of Marble. Add to this, that in Scul­pture, 'tis almost impossible that a Figure cloath'd with course Draperies, can make a good effect on all the sides; and that in Painting the Draperies of what kind soever they be, are of great advan­tage, either to unite the Colours and the Grouppes, or to give such a ground as one would wish to unite or to separate, or farther, to produce such reflections as set off, or for filling void spaces, or in short for many other advantages, which help to deceive the Sight, and which are no ways ne­cessary to Sculptors, since their Work is always of Relievo.

Three things may be inferr'd from what I have said concerning the rule of Draperies. First, that the Ancient Sculptors had reason to cloath their Figures as we see them. Secondly, that Painters ought to imitate them in the order of their Folds, but not in their quality nor in their num­ber. Thirdly, That Sculptors are oblig'd to follow them as much as they can, without desi­ring to imitate unprofitably or improperly the manners of the Painters, and to make many ample Folds, which are insufferable hardnesses, and more like a Rock than a natural Garment. [Page 140] See the 211th. Remark about the middle of it.

And if the parts be too much distant from each o­ther, ¶202. &c. 'Tis with intent to hinder (as we have said in the rule of Grouppes) the visual Rays, from being too much divided, and that the Eyes may not suffer by looking on so many objects, which are separated. Guido was very exact in this observation. See in the Text the end of the Rule which relates to Draperies.

And as the Beauty of the Limbs consists not in the quantity and rising of the Muscles, ¶204. &c. Raphael in the beginning of his Painting, has somewhat too much multiply'd the Folds; because being with reason charm'd with the graces of the Ancients, he imitated their Beauties somewhat too regularly; but having afterwards found that this quantity of Folds glitter'd too much upon the Limbs, and took off that Repose and Silence which in Paint­ing are so friendly to the Eyes; he made use of a contrary conduct in the works which he painted afterwards, which was at that time when he began to understand the effect of Lights, of Grouppes, and the oppositions of the Lights and Shadows, so that he wholly chang'd his manner, (this was about eight years before his death) and though he always gave a Grace to whatsoever he painted, yet he made appear in his latter works, a Great­ness, [Page 141] a Majesty, and a Harmony quite other than what we see in his first manner: And this he did by lessening the number of his Folds, making them more large and more opposing them, and by making the Masses of the Lights and Shadows, greater and more disentagl'd. Take the pains to examine these his different man­ners in the Prints which we see of that Great Man.

As supposing them to be Magistrates, ¶210. their Drape­ries ought to be large, &c. Yet make not your Draperies so large that they may be big enough to cloath four or five Figures, as some there are who follow that method. And take heed that the folding be natural and so dispos'd, that the Eye may be directed to discover the Folds from the beginning of them to the end. By Magistrates, he means all great and grave Persons, and such as are advanc'd in age.

If Ladies or Damsels, light and soft, ¶211. &c. By this name of Ladies, Maids, or Damsels, he means all young persons, slender, finely shap'd, aery and delicate. Such as are Nymphs, and Naiades, and Fountains. Angels are also comprehended under this head, whose Drapery should be of pleasing Colours, and resembling those which are seen in the Heavens, and chiefly when they are suspended in the Air. They are only such [Page 142] sorts of light habits as are subject to be ruffl'd by the Winds, which can bear many Folds; yet so that they may be freed from any hardnesses. 'Tis easie for every one to judge that betwixt the Dra­peries of Magistrates, and those of young Maids; there must be some mediocrity of Folds, such as are most commonly seen and observ'd, as in the Draperies of a Christ, of a Madonna, of a King, a Queen, or a Dutchess, and of other persons of Consideration and Majesty; and those also who are of a middle age with this distinction, that the Habits must be made more or less rich, accor­ding to the dignity of the Persons; and that Cloth Garments may be distinguish'd from those of Silk, Sattin from Velvets, Brocard from Embroidery, and that in one word the Eye may be deceiv'd by the truth and the difference of the Stuffs. Take no­tice if you please, that the light and tender Drape­ries having been onely given to the Female Sex, the Ancient Sculptors have avoided as much as they could to cloath the Figures of Men, because they thought, (as we have formerly said) that in Scul­pture Garments could not be well imitated, and that great Folds made a very bad effect. There are almost as many examples of this truth, as a­mongst the Ancients there are Statues of na­ked men. I will name only that of Laocoon, which [Page 143] according to all probability ought to have been cloath'd: And in effect what likelihood can there be, that the Son of a King, and the Priest of Apollo should appear naked in the actual Cere­mony of Sacrifice. For the Serpents pass'd from the Isle of Tenedos to the Trojan Shore, and sur­priz'd Laocoon and his Sons while they were sa­crificing to Neptune on the Sea Shore, as Virgil witnesses in the second of his Eneids. Notwith­standing which, thePolydorus, Athenodorus, and Agesander, all Rhodians. Sculptors who were Au­thors of this noble work had well consider'd, that they could not give Vestments suitable to the qua­lity of the Persons represented, without making as it were a heap of Stones, whose Mass would rather be like a Rock, than those three admirable Figures, which will ever be the Admiration of all Ages. And for this reason of two inconveni­ences, they judg'd that of Draperies to be great­er, than that which was against the truth it self.

This observation well confirms what I have said in the 200th. Remark. It seems to me, that it deserves you should make some reflection on it; and to establish it the better in your mind, I will tell you, that Michael Angelo, following this Ma­xim, has given the Prophets which he painted in the Chappel of the Pope, such Draperies whose [Page 144] Folds are large, and whose Garments are course, instead of which the Moses, which he has made in Sculpture, is habited with a Drapery much more close to the parts and holding more of the Ancients. Nevertheless he is a Prophet as well as those in the Chappel, a man of the same quality, and to whom Michael Angelo ought to have given the same Draperies, if he had not been hinder'd by those very reasons which have been given you.

The Marks or Ensigns of Vertues, ¶215. &c. That is to say of the Sciences and Arts. The Italians call a man a Vertuoso, who loves the noble Arts, and is a Critick in them. And amongst our French Painters, the word Vertueux, is understood in the same Signification.

But let not the work be too much enrich'd with Gold or Iewels, ¶217. &c. Clemens Alexandrinus relates, That Apelles having seen a Helena,Lib. 2. Paedag. cap. 12. which a young Scholar of his had made and adorn'd with a great quan­tity of Golden Ornaments and Iewels, said to him, My good Friend, though thou couldst not make her beauti­full, at least thou hast made her rich. Besides that, these glittering things in Painting, as precious Stones prodigally strew'd over the habits are de­structive to each other, because they draw the Sight to several places at the same time, and that [Page 145] they hinder round Bodies from turning and ma­king their due effect; 'tis the very quantity which often makes us judge that they are false. And be sides it is to be presum'd, that precious things are always rare.Plutarch. Corinna, that learned Theban Lady, reproach'd Pindar, whom she had five times overcome in Poetry, that he scatter'd through all his works the Flowers of Parnassus too pro­digally, saying to him, That men sow'd with the Hand, and not with the Sack: for which reason a Painter ought to adorn his Vestments with great discretion. And precious Stones look exceed­ingly well, when they are set in those places which we would make to come out of the Picture; as for example, on a Shoulder, or an Arm to tie some Drapery, which of it self is of no strong co­louring. They do also perfectly well with white and other light Colours, which are us'd in bring­ing the Parts or Bodies forward, because Jewels make a show and glitter through the opposition of the great Lights in the deep brown, which meet together.

'Tis very expedient to make a model of those things which we have not in our Sight, ¶220. and whose nature is difficult to be retain'd in the Memory, &c. As for example, the Grouppes of many Figures, the Po­stures difficult to be long kept, the Figures in [Page 146] the Air, in Ceilings, or much rais'd above the Sight; and even of Animals, which are not ea­sily to be dispos'd.

By this rule we plainly see how necessary it is for a Painter to know how to model, and to have many Models of soft Wax. Paul Veronese had so good store of them, with so great a quantity of different sorts, that he would paint a whole histori­cal Composition on a perspective Plan, how great and how diversified soever it were. Tinto­ret practis'd the same, and Michael Angelo (as Giovan. Bapt. Armenini relates) made use of it, for all the Figures of his day of Iudgment. 'Tis not that I would advise any one who would make any very considerable work, to finish after these sorts of Models, but they will be of vast use and advantage to see the Masses of great Lights, and great Shadows, and the effect of the whole together. For what remains, you are to have a A Figure made of wood or cork, turning upon joints. Lay-man almost as big as the life, for every Figure in particular, besides the natural Figure before you, on which you must also look, and call it for a witness, which must first confirm the thing to you, and afterwards to the Spectators as it is in reality.

You may make use of these Models with de­light, if you set them on a Perspective Plan, which [Page 147] will be in the manner of a Table made on purpose. You may either raise or let it down according to your convenience; and if you look on your Fi­gures through a hole so contriv'd, that it may be mov'd up and down, it will serve you for a point of Sight and a point of Distance, when you have once fix'd it.

The same hole will further serve you to set your Figures in the Ceiling and dispos'd upon a Grate of Iron-wire, or supported in the Air by little Strings rais'd at discretion, or by both ways together.

You may joyn to your Figures what you see fitting, provided that the whole be proportion'd to them; and in short what you your self may judge to be of no greater bigness than theirs. Thus, in whatsoever you do there will be more of truth seen, your work it self will give you infinite de­light, and you will avoid many doubts and dif­ficulties which often hinder you, and chiefly for what relates to lineal perspective, which you will there infallibly find, provided that you remember to proportion all things to the greatness of your Figures and especially the points of Sight and of Distance; but for what belongs to aerial perspe­ctive, that not being found, the judgment must supply it. Tintoret, as Ridolphi tells us in his life, [Page 148] had made Chambers of Board and Past board, proportion'd to his Models with Doors and Win­dows, through which he distributed on his Fi­gures artificial Lights, as much as he thought reasonable, and often pass'd some part of the night to consider and observe the effect of his Compo­sitions. His Models were of two Foot high.

We are to consider the places where we lay the Scene of the Picture, ¶221. &c. This is what Monsieur de Chambray, calls, to do things according to Decorum. See what he says of it, in the Interpretation of that word in his Book of the Perfection of Painting. 'Tis not sufficient that in the Picture there be nothing found which is contrary to the place, where the action which is represented, passes; but we ought besides, to mark out the place and make it known to the Spectator by some particular Address, that his mind may not be put to the pains of discovering it, as whether it be Italy, or Spain, or Greece, or France; whether it be near the Sea shore, or the Banks of some River, whether it be the Rhine, or the Loyre; the Po, or the Tyber; and so of other things, if they are essential to the History. "Nealces, a man of Wit and an inge­nious Painter, L [...]. 25. 12. as Pliny tells us, being to paint a Naval Fight betwixt the Egyptians and the Per­sians, and being willing to make it known that the [Page 149] Battle was given upon the Nile, whose waters are of the same Colour with the Sea, drew an Ass drink­ing on the Banks of the River, and a Crocodile en­deavouring to surprize him."

Let a Nobleness and Grace, ¶222. &c. It is difficult enough to say what this Grace of Painting is; 'tis to be conceiv'd and understood much more easi­ly than to be explain'd by words. It proceeds from the illuminations of an excellent Mind, which cannot be acquir'd, by which we give a certain turn to things which makes them pleasing. A Figure may be design'd with all its proporti­ons, and have all its parts regular, which not­withstanding all this, shall not be pleasing, if all those parts are not put together in a certain manner, which attracts the Eye to them, and holds it fix'd upon them: For which reason there is a difference to be made betwixt Grace and Beauty. And it seems that Ovid had a mind to distinguish them, when he said (speaking of Venus)

And Suetonius speaking of Nero, says, he was rather beautifull than gracefull. Vultu pulchro, [Page 150] magis quam venusto. How many fair women do we see, who please us much less than others, who have not such beautifull Features? 'Tis by this grace that Raphael has made himself the most re­nown'd of all the Italians, as Apelles by the same means carry'd it above all the Greeks.

This is that in which the greatest difficulty consists, ¶233. &c. For two reasons, both because great study is to be made as well upon the ancient Beauties and on noble Pictures, as upon nature it self: and also because that part depends entirely on the Ge­nius, and seems to be purely the gift of Heaven, which we have receiv'd at our Birth, upon which account our Author adds, Undoubtedly we see but few, whom in this particular, Jupiter has regarded with a gracious Eye, so that it belongs only to those elevated Souls, who partake somewhat of Divinity to work such mighty wonders. Though they who have not altogether receiv'd from Heaven this pre­cious Gift, cannot acquire it without great La­bour, nevertheless 'tis needfull in my opinion, that both the one and the other should perfectly learn the character of every Passion.

All the Actions of the sensitive Appetite are in Painting call'd Passions, because the Soul is agi­tated by them, and because the Body suffers through them, and is sensibly alter'd. They are [Page 151] those divers Agitations and different Motions of the Body in general, and of every one of its parts in particular, that our excellent Painter ought to understand, on which he ought to make his stu­dy, and to form to himself a perfect Idea of them. But it will be proper for us to know in the first place, that the Philosophers admit eleven, Love, Hatred, Desire, Shunning, Ioy, Sadness, Hope, Despair, Boldness, Fear and Anger. The Painters have multiply'd them not onely by their different Degrees, but also by their different Species, for they will make, for example, six persons in the same degree of Fear, who shall express that Pas­sion all of them differently. And 'tis that diver­sity of Species which distinguishes those Painters who are able Artists, from those whom we may call Mannerists, and who repeat five or six times over in the same Picture the same Hairs of a Head. There are a vast number of other Passions, which are as the Branches of those which we have nam'd: we might for example, under the Notion of Love, comprehend Grace, Gentle­ness and Civility; Caresses, Embraces, and Kisses, Tranquillity and Sweetness; and without exami­ning whether all these things which Painters com­prize under the name of Passions, can be reduc'd to those of the Philosophers, I am of opinion that [Page 152] every one may use them at his pleasure, and that he may study them after his own manner; the name makes nothing. One may even make Pas­sions of Majesty, fierceness, Dissatisfaction, Care, A­varice, Sloathfulness, Envy, and many other things like these. These Passions (as I have said,) ought to be learnt from the life it self, or to be studied on the Ancient Statues and excellent Pictures: we ought to see, for example, all things which belong to Sadness, or serve to express it to design them carefully, and to imprint in our Memories after such a manner, as we may distinctly understand seven or eight kinds of them more or less, and im­mediately after draw them upon Paper without any other Original than the Image which we have conceiv'd of them. We must be perfect Masters of them: but above all, we must make sure of pos­sessing them throughly. We are to know that it is such or such a stroke, or such a Shadow stronger or weaker, which make such or such a Passion in this or that degree. And thus, if any one should ask you, what makes in Painting the Majesty of a King, the Gravity of a Hero, the Love of a Christ, the Grief of a Madonna, the Hope of the good Thief, the Despair of the bad One, the Grace and Beauty of a Venus, and in fine the Character of any Passion whatsoever, you may answer posi­tively, [Page 153] on the spot, and with assurance, that it is such a Posture or such lines in the parts of the Face, form'd of such or such a fashion, or even the one and the other both together: for the parts of the Body separately, make known the Passions of the Soul or else conjoyntly one with the other. But of all the parts the Head is that which gives the most of Life, and the most of Grace to the Passion, and which alone contributes more to it, than all the rest together. The others separately can onely express some certain Passions, but the Head expresses all of them; nevertheless there are some which are more particular to it; as, for ex­ample, Humility, which it expresses by the stoop­ing or bending of the Head. Arrogance, when it is lifted, or as we say, toss'd up. Languishment, when we hang it on one side, or lean it upon one Shoulder. Obstinacy (or as the French calls it O­piniatreté,) with a certain stubborn, unruly, bar­barous Humour, when 'tis held upright, stiff, and poiz'd betwixt the Shoulders. And of the rest, there are many marks more easily conceiv'd than they can be express'd; as, Bashfulness, Admiration, Indignation, and Doubt. 'Tis by the Head that we make known more visibly our Supplications, our Threatnings, our Mildness, our Haughtiness, our Love, our Hatred, our Ioy, our Sadness, our [Page 154] Humility; in fine, 'tis enough to see the Face, and to understand the Mind at half a word. Blushing and Paleness speak to us, as also the mixture of them both.

The parts of the Face do all of them contri­bute to expose the Thoughts of our Hearts; but above the rest, the Eyes, which are as it were the two Windows through which the Soul looks out and shows it self. The Passions which they more particularly express, are Pleasure, Languish­ment, Disdain, Severity, Sweetness, Admiration and Anger. Ioy and Sadness may bear their parts, if they did not more especially proceed from the Eye-brows and the Mouth. And the two parts last nam'd agree more particularly in the expres­sion of those two Passions; nevertheless if you joyn the Eyes as a third, you will have the Product of a wonderfull Harmony for all the Passions of the Soul.

The Nose has no Passion which is particular to it, it onely lends its assistance to the others before nam'd, by the stretching of the Nostrils, which is as much mark'd in Ioy, as it is in Sad­ness. And yet it seems that Scorn makes us wrin­kle up the Nose and stretch the Nostrils also, at the same time, drawing up the upper Lip to the place which is near the corners of the Mouth. The [Page 155] Ancients made the Nose the seat of Derision; eum subdolae irr [...]sioni dicaverunt, says Pliny; that is, they dedicated the Nose to a cunning sort of Mockery. We read in the 3d. Satyre of Persius, Disce, sed ira cadat Naso, rugosaque sanna; Learn; but let your Anger fall from your Nose and the sneering Wrinkles be dismounted. And Philostratus in the Picture of Pan whom the Nymphs had bound, and scornfully insulted over, says of that God; "that before this, he was accustom'd to sleep with a peaceable Nose, softning in his slumbers the Wrinkles of it, and the Anger which commonly mounted to that part; but now his Nostrils were widen'd to the last degree of Fury." For my own part, I should rather believe that the Nose was the seat of Wrath in Beasts than in Mankind, and that it was unbecoming of any God but onely Pan, who had very much of the Beast in him, to wrinkle up his Nose in Anger, like other Ani­mals. The moving of the Lips ought to be but moderate, if it be in Conversation, because we speak much more by the Tongue than by the Lips: And if you make the Mouth very open, 'tis one­ly when you are to express the violence of Passion, and more properly of Anger.

For what concerns the Hands, they are the Ser­vants of the Head, they are his Weapons and his [Page 156] Auxiliaries; without them the action is weak, languishing, and half dead, their Motions which are almost infinite, make innumerable expressi­ons: Is it not by them, that we desire, that we hope, that we promise, that we call towards us, and that we reject? besides, they are the instruments of our Threats, of our Petitions, of the Horror which we show for things, and of the Praises which we give them: By them we fear, we ask Questions, we approve, and we refuse, we show our Ioy and our Sadness, our Doubts, and our Lamentations, our Concernments of Pity, and our Admirations. In short, it may be said, that they are the Language of the Dumb, that they contri­bute not a little to the speaking of the universal Tongue, common to all the World, which is that of Painting.

Now to tell you how these parts are to be dis­pos'd, so as to express the different Passions, is im­possible; no precise Rules can be given of it, both because the task it self is infinite, and also be­cause every one is left to the Conduct of his own Genius, and to the Fruit of his former Studies; onely remember to be carefull, that all the acti­ons of your Figures must be natural. "It seems to me, says Quinctilian, speaking of the Passions, That this part which is so noble and so great, is [Page 157] not altogether unaccessible, and that an easie way may be found to it; 'tis to consider nature and to copy her, for the Spectators are satisfied, when in artificial things they can discern that nature which they are accustom'd to behold." This passage of Quinctilian is perfectly explain'd by the words of an excellent Master which our Author proposes to us for a rule: they are these which follow. That the studied Motions of the Soul, are never so natural as those which we see in the transport of a true passion. These Motions will better be express'd, and be much more natural, if we enter into the same thoughts, become of the same piece, and imagine our selves to be in the same circumstances with those whom we would represent. "For Nature, says Horace in his Art of Poetry, disposes the in­side of Mankind to all sorts of Fortunes, sometimes she makes us contented, sometimes she drives us in­to Choler, and sometimes she so oppresses us with Grief, that she seems to tread us down and plunge us into mortal Anxieties; and on all these occasions, she drives outwards the Motions of the Heart by the Tongue which is her Interpreter." Now in­stead of the Tongue, let the Painter say by the Acti­ons, which are her Interpreters. "What means have we, (says Quinctilian,) to give a Colour to a thing if we have not the same Colour; 'tis ne­cessary [Page 158] that we our selves should first be touch'd with a Passion before we endeavour to move others with it. And how, continues he, can we be touch [...]d, since the Passions are not in our power? This is the way in my opinion; We must form to our selves the Visions and Images of absent things, as if they were in reality before our Eyes; and he who conceives these Images with the greatest strength of Imagination, shall possess that part of the Passions with the most advantage and the greatest ease." But we must take care, as I have already said, that in these visions, the Motions may be natural, for there are some who imagine they have given abun­dance of Light to their Figures, when they have made them do violent and extravagant Actions, which we may more reasonably call the Convulsi­ons or Contorsions of the Body, than the Passions of the Mind; and by this means often put themselves to much pains, to find a strong Passion, where no Passion is requir'd. Add to all that I have said concerning the Passions, that we are to have a very serious regard to the quality of the Persons who are to be express'd in Passions. The Ioy of a King ought not to resemble that of a Serving-man. And the Fierceness of a private Soldier must not be like that of an Officer. In these differences con­sists all the Fineness and Delicacy of the Passions. [Page 159] Paulo Lomazzo has written at large on every Passion in particular, in his second Book, but be­ware you dwell not too long upon it, and endea­vour not to force your Genius.

Some Reliques of it took Sanctuary under ground, ¶247. &c. All the ancient Painting that was in Italy perish'd in the Invasion of the Hunns and Goths, excepting those works which were hidden under ground or there painted, which by reason they had not been much expos'd to view, were pre­serv'd from the insolence of those Barbarians.

The Cromatique part or Colouring, ¶256. &c. The third and last part of Painting, is call'd the Cro­matique or Colouring. Its object is Colour, for which reason, Lights and Shadows are therein al­so comprehended, which are nothing else but white and brown (or dark,) and by consequence have their place among the Colours. Philostratus says in his life of Apollonius, "That it may be truly call'd Painting which is made only with two Colours, provided the Lights and Shadows be observ'd in it: for there we behold the true resemblance of things with their Beauties; we also see the Passions, though without other Colours: so much of life may be also express'd in it, that we may perceive even the very Bloud: the Colour of the Hair and of the Beard, are likewise to be discern'd, and we can distinguish [Page 160] without confusion, the fair from the black, and the young from the old, the differences betwixt the white and the flaxen hair; we distinguish with ease betwixt the Moors and the Indians; not onely by the Ca­mus Noses of the Blacks, their woolly Hair and their high Iaws, but also by that black Colour which is natural to them." We may add to what Phi­lostratus has said, that with two onely Colours, the Light and the Dark, there is no sort of Stuff or Habit but may be imitated; we say then, that the colouring makes its observations on the Masses or Bodies of the Colours, accompany'd with Lights and Shadows more or less evident by degrees of diminution, according to the Acci­dents. First of a luminous Body; as for exam­ple, the Sun or a Torch. Secondly, of a diapha­nous or transparent Body, which is betwixt us and the object, as the Air either pure or thick, or a red Glass, &c. Thirdly, of a solid Body illu­minated, as a Statue of white Marble, a green Tree, a black Horse, &c. Fourthly, from his part, who regards the Body illuminated, as be­holding it either near or at a distance, directly in a right Angle, or aside in an obtuse Angle, from the top to the bottom, or from the bottom to the top. This part in the knowledge which it has of the vertue of Colours, and the Friendship [Page 161] which they have with each other, and also their Antipathies, it comprehends the Strength, the Re­lievo, the Briskness, and the Delicacy which are ob­serv'd in good Pictures, the management of Colours, and the labour depend also on this last part.

Her Sister, ¶263. &c. That is to say, the Design or Drawing, which is the second part of Painting; which consisting onely of Lines, stands altoge­ther in need of the Colouring to appear. 'Tis for this reason, that our Author calls this part her Si­sters Procurer, that is, the Colouring shows us the Design, and makes us fall in love with it.

The Light produces all kinds of Colours, ¶267. &c. Here are three Theorems successively following, which our Author proposes to us, that from thence we may draw some conclusions. You may like­wise find others, which are in the nature of so ma­ny Propositions to which we ought to agree, that from thence we may draw the Precepts contain'd in the following part of this Treatise; they are all founded on the Sense of Seeing.

Which ought to be the most,¶280. &c. See the Remark of number 152.

That you may make the Bodies appear enlightned by the shadows which bound your Sight, ¶283. &c. That is properly to say, that after the great Lights, there must be great Shadows, which we call reposes: [Page 162] because in reality the Sight would be tired, if it were attracted by a Continuity of glittering ob­jects. The Lights may serve for a repose to the Darks, and the Darks to the Lights. I have said in another place, that a Grouppe of Figures ought to be consider'd, as a Choir of Musick, in which the Bases support the Trebles, and make them to be heard with greater pleasure. These reposes are made two several ways, one of which is Natural, the other Artificial. The Natural is made by an extent of Lights or of Shadows; which naturally and necessarily follow solid Bodies, or the Masses of solid Bodies aggroupp'd when the Light strikes upon them. And the Artificial consists in the Bo­dies of Colours, which the Painter gives to cer­tain things, such as pleases him; and composes them in such a manner, that they do no injury to the objects which are near them. A Drapery, for example, which is made yellow or red on some certain place, in another place may be brown, and will be more suitable to it, to pro­duce the effect requir'd. We are to take occa­sion as much as possibly we can, to make use of the first manner, and to find the repose of which we speak, by the Light and by the Shadow, which naturally accompany solid Bodies. But since the Subjects on which we work are not al­ways [Page 163] favourable to dispose the Bodies as we de­sire, a Painter in such a case may take his advan­tage by the Bodies of Colours, and put into such places as ought to be darken'd, Draperies or o­ther things which we may suppose to be natural­ly brown and sully'd, which will produce the same effect and give him the same reposes as the Shadows would which could not be caus'd by the disposition of the objects.

Thus, an understanding Painter will make his advantages both of the one manner and the other. And if he makes a design to be grav'd, he is to remember that the Gravers dispose not their Co­lours as the Painters do; and that by consequence he must take occasion to find the reason of his Design, in the natural Shadows of the Figures, which he has dispos'd to cause the effect. Ru­bens has given us a full information of this in those prints of his which he caus'd to be engrav'd; and I believe that nothing was ever seen more beau­tifull in that kind: the whole knowledge of Grouppes, of the Lights and Shadows, and of those Masses which Ti [...]ian calls a Bunch of Grapes, is there expos'd so clearly to the Sight, that the view of those Prints and the carefull observation of them, might very much contribute to the forming of an able Painter. The best and fairest [Page 164] of them are graven by Vorsterman, Pontius, and Bolsvert, all of them admirable Gravers, whose works Rubens himself took care to oversee, and which without doubt you will find to be excel­lent if you examine them. But expect not there the Elegance of Design, nor the Correctness of the Out-lines.

'Tis not but the Gravers can, and ought to imitate the Bodies of the Colours by the degrees of the Lights and Shadows, as much as they shall judge that this imitation may produce a good ef­fect: on the contrary, 'tis impossible in my opi­nion to give much strength to what they grave, after the works of the School, and of all those who have had the knowledge of Colours and of the Contrast of the Lights and Shadows, without imitating in some sort the Colour of the Objects, according to the relation which they have to the degrees of white and black. We see certain Prints of good Gravers different in their kinds, where these things are observ'd, and which have a won­derfull strength. And there appears in publick of late years, a Gallery of Arch-duke Leopold, which though very ill graven, yet shows some part of the Beauty of its Originals, because the Gravers who have executed it, though otherwise they were sufficiently ignorant, have observ'd in [Page 165] almost the greatest parts of their Prints, the Bo­dies of Colours in the relation which they have to the degrees of the Lights and Shadows. I could wish the Gravers would make some reflecti­on upon this whole Remark, 'tis of wonde [...]full consequence to them; for when they have at­tain'd to the knowledge of these reposes, they will easily resolve those difficulties which many times perplex them: And then chiefly when they are to engrave after a Picture, where neither the Lights and Shadows, nor the Bodies of the Colours are skilfully observ'd, though in its o­ther parts the Picture may be well perform'd.

In the same manner as we behold it in a Convex Mirror, ¶286. &c. A Convex Mirror alters the objects which are in the middle, so that it seems to make them come out from the Superficies. The Pain­ter must do in the same manner in respect of the Lights and Shadows of his Figures, to give them more Relievo and more Strength.

And let those which turn be of broken Colours, ¶290. as being less distinguish'd and nearer to the borders, &c. 'Tis the duty of a Painter, even in this also, to imitate the Convex Mirror, and to place nothing which glares either in Colour or in Light at the borders of his Picture; for which, there are two reasons, the first is, that the Eye at the first view [Page 166] directs it self to the midst of the object, which is presented to it, and by consequence, must there necessarily find the principal object, in order to its satisfaction. And the other reason is, that the sides or borders being overcharg'd with a strong and glittering work attract the Eyes thither, which are in a kind of Pain, not to behold a continuity of that work, which is on the sudden interrupted, by the borders of the Picture; instead of which the borders being lighten'd and eas'd of so much work, the Eye continues fixt on the Center of the Picture, and beholds it with greater pleasure. 'Tis for the same reason, that in a great composition of Figures, those which coming most forward, are cut off by the bottom of the Picture, will al­ways make an ill effect.

A bunch of Grapes, ¶329. &c. 'Tis sufficiently ma­nifest, that Titian by this judicious and familiar comparison, means that a Painter ought to col­lect the objects, and to dispose them in such a manner, as to compose one whole; the several contiguous parts of which, may be enlighten'd; many shadow'd and others of broken Colours to be in the turnings, as on a Bunch of Grapes, ma­ny Grapes, which are the parts of it, are in the Light, many in the Shadow, and the rest faintly colour'd to make them go farther back. Titian [Page 167] once told Tintoret, That in his greatest works, a Bunch of Grapes had been his principal rule and his su­rest guide.

Pure or unmix'd white, ¶330. either draws an object nearer or carries it off to farther distance. It draws it nearer with black, and throws it backward without it, &c. All agree that white can subsist on the fore-ground of the Picture, and there be us'd without mixture; the question therefore is to know, if it can equally subsist and be plac'd in the same manner, upon that which is backward, the Light being universal and the Figures suppos'd in a Campaign and open Field.

Our Author concludes affirmatively, and the reason on which he establishes his rule is this, That there being nothing which partakes more of the Light than Whiteness, and the Light being capa­ble of subsisting well in remoteness (or at a long distance, as we daily see in the rising and setting of the Sun) it follows that white may subsist in the same manner. In Painting, the Light and a white Colour are but one and the same thing. Add to this, that we have no Colour, which more resembles the Air than white, and by con­sequence no Colour which is lighter, from whence it comes that we commonly say, the Air is hea­vy, when we see the Heavens cover'd with black [Page 168] Clouds, or when a thick fog takes from us that clearness, which makes the Lightness or Serenity of the Air. Titian, Tintoret, Paul Veronese, and all those who best understood Lights, have ob­serv'd it in this manner, and no man can go a­gainst this Precept, at least without renouncing any skill in Landtschape, which is an undoubted confirmation of this truth. And we see that all the great Masters of Landtschape, have follow'd Titian in this, who has always employ'd brown and earthly Colours upon the fore-part, and has reserv'd his greatest Lights for remotenesses and the back parts of his Landtschapes.

It may be objected against this opinion, that white cannot maintain it self in remotenesses, be­cause it is ordinarily us'd to bring the Objects nearer, on the advanc'd part. 'Tis true, that so it is us'd, and that to very good purpose, to ren­der the Objects more sensible, by the opposition of the Dark, which must accompany it; and which retains it, as it were by force, whether the Dark serves it for a ground, or whether it be combin'd to it. For example, If you wou'd make a white Horse on the fore-ground of your Picture, 'tis of absolute Necessity, that the ground must be of a mixt brown, and large enough, or that the Furniture must be of very sensible Colours; or [Page 169] lastly, that some Figure must be set upon it, whose Shadows and the Colour may bring it for­ward.

But it seems (say you) that blue is the most flying or transient Colour, because the Heavens and Mountains, which are at the greatest distance, are of that Colour. 'Tis very true that blue is one of the lightest and sweetest Colours: But it is al­so true, that it possesses these qualities so much the more, because the white is mingled in it, as the example of the distances demonstrate to us. But if the Light of your Picture be not universal, and that you suppose your Figures in a Chamber, then recall to your Memory that Theorem which tells you that the nearer a Body is to the Light, and the more directly 'tis oppos'd to us, so much the more it is enlighten'd, because the Light grows languishing, the farther it removes from its original.

You may also extinguish your white, if you suppose the Air to be somewhat thicker, and if you foresee that this supposition will make a good effect in the Oeconomy of the whole work; but let not this proceed so far, as to make your Fi­gures so brown, that they may seem as it were in a filthy Fog, or that they may appear to be part of the ground. See the following Remark.

[Page 170] But as for pure black, ¶332. there is nothing that brings the Object nearer to the Sight, &c. Because black is the heaviest of all Colours, the most earthly, and the most sensible. This is clearly understood by the qualities of white which is oppos'd to it, and which is, as we have said, the lightest of all Colours. There are few who are not of this opi­nion; and yet I have known some, who have told me, that the black being on the advanc'd part, makes nothing but holes. To this there is little else to be answer'd, but that black always makes a good effect, being set forward, provi­ded it be plac'd there with Prudence. You are therefore so to dispose the Bodies of your Pictures which you intend to be on the fore-ground, that those sorts of holes may not be perceiv'd, and that the blacks may be there by Masses, and in­sensibly confus'd. See the 47th. Rule.

That which gives the Relievo to a Bowl, (may some say to me) is the quick Light, or the white, which appears to be on the side, which is near­est to us, and the black by consequence distances the Object: we are here to beware, not to con­found the turnings with the distances: the questi­on is onely in respect of Bodies, which are sepa­rated by some distance of a backward Position, and not of round Bodies, which are of the same [Page 171] Continuity: the brown which is mingled in the turnings of the Bowl, makes them go off, rather in confounding them, as we may say, than in blackning them. And do you not see, that the reflects are an Artifice of the Painter, to make the turnings seem more Light, and that by this means the greatest blackness remains towards the middle of the Bowl, to sustain the white, and make it deceive us with more pleasure.

This Rule of White and Black is of so great con­sequence, that unless it be exactly practis'd, 'tis impossible for a Picture to make any great effect, that the Masses can be disentangl'd, and the dif­ferent distances may be observ'd at the first Glance of the Eye without trouble.

It may be inferr'd from this Precept, that the Masses of other Colours, will be so much the more sensible, and approach so much the nearer to the Sight the more brown they bear; provi­ded this be amongst other Colours which are of the same Species. For example, A yellow brown shall draw nearer to the Sight, than another which is less yellow. I said provided it be a­mongst other Colours, which are of the same Species, because there are simple Colours, which naturally are strong and sensible, though they are clear, as Vermillion; there are others also, [Page 172] which notwithstanding that they are brown, yet cease not to be soft and faint, as the blue of Ul­trama [...]ine. The effect of a Picture comes not one­ly therefore from the Lights and Shadows, but also from the nature of the Colours. I thought it was not from the purpose in this place to give you the qualities of those Colours which are most in use, and which are call'd Capital, because they serve to make the composition of all the rest, whose number is almost infinite.

Red Oker is one of the most heavy Colours.

Yellow Oker is not so heavy, because 'tis clearer.

And the Masticot is very Light, because it is a very clear yellow, and very near to white.

Ultramarine or Azure, is very light and a very sweet Colour.

Vermillion is wholly opposite to Ultramarine.

Lake is a middle Colour betwixt Ultramarine and Vermillion, yet it is rather more sweet than harsh.

Brown Red is one of the most earthy and most sensible Colours.

Pinck is in its nature an indifferent Colour, (that is) very susceptible of the other Colours by the mixture: if you mix brown-red with it, you will make it a very earthy Colour; but on the contrary, if you joyn it with white or blue, you [Page 173] shall have one of the most faint and tender Co­lours.

Terre Verte (or green Earth) is light; 'tis a mean betwixt yellow Oker and Ultramarine.

Umbre is very sensible and earthy; there is no­thing but pure black which can dispute with it.

Of all Blacks, that is the most earthly, which is most remote from Blue. According to the Principle which we have establish'd of white and black, you will make every one of these Colours before-nam'd more earthy and more heavy, the more black you mingle with them, and they will be light the more white you joyn with them.

For what concerns broken or compound Colours, we are to make a judgment of their strength by the Force of those Colours which compose them. All who have thoroughly understood the agreement of Colours, have not employ'd them wholly pure and simple in their Draperies, unless in some Fi­gure upon the fore-ground of the Picture; but they have us'd broken and compound Colours, of which they made a Harmony for the Eyes, by mixing those which have some kind of Sympathy with each other, to make a Whole, which has an Union with the Colours which are neighbouring to it. The Painter who perfectly understands the force and power of his Colours, will use them most suitably [Page 174] to his present purpose, and according to his own Discretion.

But let this be done relatively,¶355. &c. One Body must make another Body fly off in such a man­ner that it self may be chas'd by those Bodies which are advanc'd before it. "We are to take care and use great attention, says Quinctilian, not onely of one separate thing, but of many which fol­low each other: and by a certain relation which they have with each other, are as it were continued in the same manner, as if in a straight Street, we cast our Eyes from one end of it to the other, we discover at once those different things which are presented to the Sight, so that we not onely see the last, but whatsoever is relating to the last."

Let two contrary extremities never touch each o­ther, ¶361. &c. The Sense of seeing has this in com­mon with all the rest of the Senses, that it ab­horrs the contrary Extremities. And in the same manner as our hands, when they are very cold feel a grievous pain, when on the sudden we hold them near the Fire, so the Eyes which find an extreme white, next to an extreme black, or a fair cool Azure next to a hot Vermillion, cannot behold these extremities without Pain, though they are always attracted by the Glareing of two contraries.

[Page 175] This rule obliges us to know those Colours which have a Friendship with each other, and those which are incompatible, which we may easily discover in mixing together those Colours of which we would make trial.

And if by this mixture, they make a gracious and sweet Colour, which is pleasing to the Sight, 'tis a Sign that there is an Union and a Sympathy betwixt them: but if, on the contrary, that Colour which is produc'd by the mixture of the two be harsh to the Sight, we are to conclude, that there is a Contrariety and Antipathy betwixt these two Colours. Green, for example, is a pleasing Colour, which may come from a blue and a yellow mix'd to­gether, and by consequence blue and yellow are two Colours which sympathize: and on the contrary, the mixture of Blue with Vermillion, produces a sharp, harsh, and unpleasant Colour; con­clude then that Blue and Vermillion are of a con­trary Nature. And the same may be said of o­ther Colours of which you make the experiment. And to clear that matter once for all, (see the Conclusion of the 332d. Remark, where I have taken occasion to speak of the force and quality of every Capital Colour,) yet you may neglect this Precept, when your Piece consists but of one or two Figures, and when amongst a great number [Page 176] you would make some one Figure more remark­able than the rest. One I say, which is one of the most considerable of the Subject, which otherwise you cannot distinguish from the rest. Titian in his triumph of Bacchus, having plac'd Ariadne on one of the Borders of the Picture, and not being able for that reason to make her remarkable by the brightness of Light, which he was to keep in the middle of his Picture, gave her a Scarf of a Vermillion Colour, upon a blue Drapery, as well to loosen her from his ground, which was a blue Sea, as because she is one of the principal Figures of his Subject, upon which he desir'd to attract the Eye. Paulo Veronese, in his Marriage of Canaa, because Christ who is the principal Figure of the Subject, is carry'd somewhat into the depth of the Picture, and that he cou'd not make him distinguishable by the strength of the Lights and Shadows, has cloath'd him with Vermillion and Blue, thereby to conduct the Sight to that Fi­gure.

The hostile Colours may be so much the more ally'd to each other, the more you mix them with other Colours, which mutually sympathize; and which agree with those Colours, which you desire to reconcile.

[Page 177] 'Tis labour in vain to paint a High-noon, ¶365. &c. He said in another place, Endeavour after that which aids your Art, and is suitable to it, and shun whatsoever is repugnant: 'tis the 59th. Pre­cept. If the Painter wou'd arrive to the end he has propos'd, which is to deceive the [...]ight, he must make choice of such a Nature, as agrees with the weakness of his Colours; because his Colours cannot accommodate themselves to every sort of Nature. This Rule is particularly to be observ'd, and well consider'd, by those who paint Landt­schapes.

Let the Field or Ground of the Picture, ¶378. &c. The reason of it is, that we are to avoid the meeting of those Colours, which have an Antipathy to each other, because they offend the Sight, so that this Rule is prov'd sufficiently by the 41st. which tells us, that two contrary Extremities are never to touch each other, whether it be in Colour, or in Light, but that there ought to be a mean be­twixt them, which partakes of both.

Let your Colours be lively, ¶382. and yet not look (accor­ding to the Painters Proverb) as if they had been sprinkled with Meal, &c. Donner dans la farine, is a Phrase amongst Painters, which perfectly ex­presses what it means, which is to paint with clear, or bright Colours, and dull Colours to­gether; [Page 178] for being so mingled, they give no more life to the Figures, than if they had been rubb'd with Meal. They who make their flesh Colours very white, and their Shadows grey or inclining to green, fall into this inconvenience. Red Co­lours in the Shadows of the most delicate or finest Flesh, contribute wonderfully to make them live­ly, shining and natural; but they are to be us'd with the same discretion, that Titian, Paul Vero­nese, Rubens and Van Dyck, have taught us by their example.

To preserve the Colours fresh, we must paint by putting in more Colours, and not by rubbing them in, after they are once laid; and if it could be done, they should be laid just in their proper places, and not be any more touch'd, when they are once so plac'd; it would be yet better, be­cause the Freshness of the Colours is tarnish'd and lost, by vexing them with the continual Drudge­ry of Daubing.

All they who have colour'd well, have had yet another Maxim to maintain their Colours fresh and flourishing, which was to make use of white Grounds, upon which they painted, and of­tentimes at the first Stroke, without retouching any thing, and without employing new Colours. [Page 179] Rubens always us'd this way; and I have seen Pictures from the hand of that great Person paint­ed up at once, which were of a wonderfull Viva­city.

The reason why they made use of those kind of Grounds, is, because white as well preserves a Brightness, under the Transparency of Colours, which hinders the Air from altering the white­ness of the Ground, as that it likewise repairs the injuries which they receive from the Air, so that the Ground and the Colours assist and pre­serve each other. 'Tis for this reason that glaz'd Colours have a Vivacity which can never be imi­tated by the most lively and most brillant Co­lours, because according to the common way, the different Teints are simply laid on each in its place one after another. So true it is, that white with other strong Colours, with which we paint at once that which we intend to glaze, are as it were, the Life, the Spirit, and the Lustre of it. The Ancients most certainly have found, that white Grounds were much the best, because, not­withstanding that inconvenience, which their Eyes receiv'd from that Colour, yet they did not forbear the use of it; as Galen testifies in his tenth Book of the use of the parts. "Painters, says he, when they work upon their white Grounds, place be­fore [Page 180] them dark Colours, and others mixt with blue and green, to recreate their Eyes, because white is a glareing Colour, which wearies and pains the Sight more than any other." I know not the reason why the use of it is left off at present, if it be not that in our days there are few Painters who are curious in their Colouring, or that the first Strokes which are begun upon white, are not seen soon enough, and that a more than French Patience is requir'd to wait till it be accomplish'd; and the Ground, which by its whiteness tarnishes the Lu­stre of the other Colours, must be entirely cover'd to make the whole work appear pleasingly.

Let the parts which are nearest to us and most rais'd, ¶383. &c. The reason of this is, that upon a flat su­perficies, and as much united as a Cloth can be, when it is strain'd, the least Body is very appear­ing, and gives a heightning to the place which it possesses; do not therefore load those places with Colours, which you would make to turn; but let those be well loaded, which you would have come out of the Canvass.

Let there be so much Harmony or Consent in the Masses of the Pictures, ¶385. that all the shadowings may appear as if they were but one, &c. He has said in another place, that after great Lights, great Sha­dows are necessary, which he calls Reposes. What [Page 181] he means by the present Rule, is this, That whatso­ever is found in those great Shadows, should par­take of the Colours of one another, so that the different Colours which are well distinguish'd in the Lights seem to be but one in the Shadows, by their great Union.

Let the whole Picture be made of one Piece, ¶386. &c. That is to say, of one and the same Continuity of Work, and as if the Picture had been painted up all at once; the Latin says all of one Pallet.

The Looking Glass will instruct you, ¶387. &c. The Painter must have a principal Respect to the Mas­ses, and to the Effect of the whole together. The Looking-Glass distances the Objects, and by conse­quence gives us onely to see the Masses, in which all the little parts are confounded. The Evening, when the Night approaches, will make you bet­ter understand this observation, but not so commodiously, for the proper time to make it, lasts but a quarter of an hour, and the Looking-Glass may be usefull all the day.

Since the Mirror is the rule and Master of all Painters, as showing them their faults by distan­cing the Objects, we may conclude that the Pi­cture which makes not a good effect at a distance cannot be well done; and a Painter must never finish his Picture, before he has examin'd it at [Page 182] some reasonable distance, or with a Looking-Glass, whether the Masses of the Lights and Shadows, and the Bodies of the Colours be well distribu­ted. Giorgione and Correggio have made use of this method.

As for a Portrait,¶393.or Pictures by the Life, &c. The end of Portraits is not so precisely as some have imagin'd, to give a smiling and pleasing Air together with the resemblance; this is indeed somewhat, but not enough. It consists in expres­sing the true temper of those persons which it re­presents, and to make known their Physiognomy. If the Person whom you draw, for example, be na­turally sad, you are to beware of giving him any Gayety, which would always be a thing which is foreign to his Countenanc. If he or she be merry, you are to make that good Humour appear by the expressing of those parts where it acts, and where it shows it self. If the Person be grave and majestical, the Smiles or Laughing, which is too sensible, will take off from that Majesty and make it look childish and undecent. In short, the Painter, who has a good Genius must make a true Discernment of all these things, and if he un­derstands Physiognomy, it will be more easie to him, and he will succeed better than another. Pliny tells us, "That Apelles made his Pictures so [Page 183] very like, that a certain Physiognomist and Fortune­teller, (as it is related by Appion the Gramma­rian) foretold by looking on them the very time of their Deaths, whom those Pictures represented, or at what time their Death happen'd, if such persons were already dead."

You are to paint the most tenderly that possibly you can, ¶403. &c. Not so as to make your Colours die by force of tormenting them, but that you should mix them as hastily as you can, and not retouch the same place, if conveniently you can avoid it.

Large Lights, ¶403. &c. 'Tis in vain to take pains if you cannot preserve large Lights, because without them, your work will never make a good effect at a distance; and also because lit­tle Lights are confus'd and effac'd, proportiona­bly, as you are at a distance from the Picture. This was the perpetual Maxim of Correggio.

Ought to have somewhat of Greatness in them,¶417. and their Out-lines to be noble, &c. As the Pieces of Antiquity will evidently show us.

¶422. There is nothing more pernicious to a Youth, &c. 'Tis common to place our selves under the Dis­cipline of a Master of whom we have a good opi­nion, and whose manner we are apt to embrace with ease, which takes root more deeply in us, [Page 184] and augments the more we see him work, and the more we copy after him. This happens of­tentimes to that degree, and makes so great an Impression in the Mind of the Scholar, that he can­not give his approbation to any other manner whatsoever, and believes there is no man under the Cope of Heaven, who is so knowing as his Master.

But what is most remarakble in this point is, that nature appears to us always like that manner which we love, and in which we have been taught, which is just like a Glass through which we behold Objects, and which communicates its Colour to them without our perceiving it. After I have said this, you may see of what consequence is the choice of a good Master, and of following in our beginning the manner of those who have come nearest to Nature. And how much injury do you think have the ill manners which have been in France, done to the Painters of that Nation, and what hindrance have they been to the knowledge of what is well done, or of arriving to what is so when once we know it. The Italians say to those whom they see infected with an ill manner, which they are not able to forsake, "If you knew just nothing, you would soon learn something."

[Page 185] Search whatsoever is aiding to your Art and conve­nient, ¶433. and avoid those things which are repugnant to it, &c. This is an admirable Rule; a Painter ought to have it perpetually present in his Mind and Memory. It resolves those difficulties which the Rules beget; it loosens his hands, and assists his understanding. In short, this is the Rule which sets the Painter at liberty, because it teaches him that he ought not to subject himself servilely, and be bound like an Apprentice to the Rules of his Art; but that the Rules of his Art ought to be Subject to him, and not hinder him from follow­ing the Dictates of his Genius, which is superior to them.

Bodies of diverse Natures which are aggroupp'd or combin'd together are agreeable and pleasant to the Sight, ¶434. &c. As Flowers, Fruits, Animals, Skins, Sattins, Velvets, beautifull Flesh, Works of Silver, Armors, Instruments of Musick, Ornaments of Anci­ent Sacrifices, and many other pleasing Diversi­ties which may present themselves to the Painters imagination. 'Tis most certain that the diversi­ty of Objects recreates the Sight, when they are without confusion; and when they diminish no­thing of the Subject on which we work. Expe­rience teaches us, that the Eye grows weary with poring perpetually on the same thing, not one­ly [Page 186] on Pictures, but even on Nature it self. For who is he who would not be tir'd in the Walks of a long Forest, or with beholding a large plain which is naked of Trees, or in the Sight of a Ridge of Mountains, which instead of Pleasure, give us onely the view of Heights and Bottoms. Thus to content and fill the Eye of the Understanding, the best Authors have had the Address to sprin­kle their Works with pleasing Digressions, with which they recreate the Minds of Readers. Dis­cretion, in this as in all other things is the surest Guide: and as tedious Digressions, which wander from their Subject, are impertinent, so the Pain­ter who under Pretence of diverting the Eyes, would fill his Picture with such varieties as alter the truth of the History, would make a ridiculous Piece of Painting, and a mere Gallimaufry of his Work.

As also those things which appear to be perform'd with ease, ¶435. &c. This ease attracts our Eyes, and Spirits so much the more, because it is to be pre­sum'd that a noble work, which appears so easie to us, is the product of a skilfull Hand which is Master of its Art. It was in this part, that A­pelles found himself superior to Protogenes, when he blam'd him, for not knowing when to lay down his Pencil (and as I may almost say) to make [Page 187] an end of finishing his Piece. And it was on this account he plainly said, "That nothing was more prejudicial to Painters than too much exact­ness; and that the greatest part of them knew not when they had done enough:" as we have likewise a Proverb, which says, An Englishman never knows when he is well. 'Tis true, that the word enough is very difficult to understand. What you have to do, is to consider your Subject thoroughly, and in what manner you intend to treat it accor­ding to your rules, and the Force of your Genius; after this you are to work with all the ease and all the speed you can, without breaking your head so very much, and being so very industri­ous in starting Scruples to your self, and creating difficulties in your work. But 'tis impossible to have this Facility without possessing perfectly all the Precepts of the Art, and to have made it ha­bitual to you. For ease consists in making pre­cisely that work which you ought to make, and to set every thing in its proper place with speed and Readiness, which cannot be done without the Rules, for they are the assur'd means of con­ducting you to the end that you design with Plea­sure. 'Tis then most certain, (though against the opinion of many,) that the Rules give Facility, Quiet of Mind, and readiness of Hand to the flow­est [Page 188] Genius, and that the same Rules increase, and guide that ease in those who have already receiv'd it at their Birth from the happy influence of their Stars.

From whence it follows that we may consider Facility two several ways, either simply, as Dili­gence and a readiness of Mind and of the Hand; or as a Disposition in the Mind, to remove readily all those difficulties which can arise in the work. The first proceeds from an active temper full of Fire; and the second from a true knowledge and full possession of infallible Rules; the first is plea­sing, but it is not always without Anxiety, be­cause it often leads us astray, and on the contra­ry, the last makes us act with a Repose of Mind, and wonderfull Tranquillity; because it ascer­tains us of the goodness of our work. 'Tis a great advantage to possess the first, but 'tis the height of perfection to have both in that man­ner which Rubens and Van Dyck possessed them, excepting the part of Design or Drawing, which both too much neglected.

Those who say that the Rules are so far from giving us this Facility, that on the contrary they puzzle and perplex the Mind and tie the hand, are generally such people who have pass'd half their lives in an ill practice of Painting, the ha­bit [Page 189] of which is grown so inveterate in them, that to change it by the Rules, is to take as it were their Pencils out of their hands, and to put them out of condition of doing any thing; in the same manner as we make a Country-man dumb whom we will not allow to speak, but by the Rules of Grammar.

Observe, if you please, that the Facility and Diligence of which I spoke, consists not in that which we call bold strokes and a free handling of the Pencil, if it makes not a great effect at a di­stance. That sort of Freedom belongs rather to a Writing-Master than a Painter. I say yet fur­ther, that 'tis almost impossible that things which are painted should appear true and natural, where we observe these sorts of bold strokes. And all those who have come nearest to nature, have ne­ver us'd that manner of Painting, those tender Hairs, and those hatching strokes of the Pencil, which make a kind of minced meat in Painting, are very fine I must confess, but they are never able to deceive the Sight.

Nor till you have present in your Mind a perfect Idea of your work, ¶442. &c. If you will have pleasure in Painting, you ought to have so well consi­der'd the oeconomy of your work, that it may be entirely made and dispos'd in your head before [Page 190] it be begun upon the Cloath. You must I say, foresee the effect of the Grouppes, the ground and the Lights and Shadows of every thing, the Harmony of the Colours, and the intelligence of all the Subject, in such a manner, that whatsoe­ver you shall put upon the Cloth, may be onely a Copy of what is in your Mind. If you make use of this Conduct, you will not be put to the trouble of so often changing and rechanging.

Let the Eye be satisfied in the first place, ¶443. even a­gainst and above all other Reasons, &c. This pas­sage has a respect to some particular Licences which a Painter ought to take: And as I despair not to treat this matter more at large; I adjourn the Reader to the first opportunity which I can get for his farther satisfaction on this point to the best of my Ability: but in general he may hold for certain, that those Licences are good which contribute to deceive the Sight, without corrup­ting the truth of the Subject on which the Painter is to work.

Profit your self by the Counsels of the knowing, ¶445. &c. Parrhasius and Cliton thought themselves much ob­lig'd to Socrates for the knowledge which he gave them of the Passions. See their Dialogue in Xeno­phon towards the end of the third Book of Memoirs: 8. 20. "They who the most willingly bear reproof, says Pliny [Page 191] the Younger, are the very men in whom we find more to commend than in other people." Lysippus was extremely pleas'd when Apelles told him his opinion; and Apelles as much, when Lysippus told him his.5. 8. That which Praxiteles said of Nicias in Pliny, shows the Soul of an accomplish'd and an humble man. "Praxiteles being ask'd which of all his Works he valued most? Those, says he, which Nicias has retouch'd." So much account he made of his Criticisms and his opinions. You know the common practice of Apelles, when he had finish'd any work, he expos'd it to the Sight of all Passengers, and conceal'd himself to hear the Censure of his faults, with the Prospect of ma­king his advantage of the Informations which un­knowingly they gave him. Being sensible that the people would examine his works more rigo­rously than himself, and would not forgive the least mistake.

The Opinions and Counsels of many together are always preferable to the advice of one single person.Tuscul. lib. 5. And Cicero wonders that any are besot­ted on their own Productions, and say to one a­nother, Very good, if your works please you, mine are not unpleasing to me. In effect there are many who through Presumption or out of Shame to be reprehended, never let their works be seen. But [Page 192] there is nothing can be of worse consequence; for the disease is nourish'd and increases, Georg. 3. 1. 5. says Virgil, while it is conceal'd. There are none but Fools, says Horace, who out of Shamefac'dness hide their Ul­cers, which if shown might easily be heal'd. Stul­torum incurata malus pudor ulcera celat: Ep. 16. There are others who have not altogether so much of this foolish Bashfulness, and who ask every ones opi­nion with Prayers and Earnestness; but if you freely and ingenuously give them notice of their Faults, they never fail to make some pitifull ex­cuse for them, or which is worse, they take in ill part the Service which you thought you did them, which they but seemingly desir'd of you, and out of an establish'd Custom amongst the greatest part of Painters. If you desire to get your self any honour, and acquire a Reputation by your works, there is no surer way than to show them to persons of good Sense, and chiefly to those who are Criticks in the Art; and to take their Counsel with the same Mildness and the same Sincerity, as you desir'd them to give it you. You must also be industrious to discover the opinion of your Enemies, which is commonly the truest, for you may be assur'd, that they will give you no quarter, and allow nothing to complaisance.

[Page 193] But if you have no knowing Friend, ¶449. &c. Quincti­lian gives the reason of this, when he says, "That the best means to correct our faults, is doubtless this, To remove our designs out of Sight, for some space of time, and not to look upon our Pi­ctures, to the end, that after this interval, we may look on them as it were with other Eyes, and as a new work which was of another hand, and not our own." Our own Productions do but too much flatter us; they are always too pleasing, and 'tis impossible not to be fond of them at the moment of their Conception. They are Children of a tender age, which are not capable of drawing our Hatred on them. 'Tis said, That Apes, as soon as they have brought their Young into the World, keep their Eyes continually fasten'd on them, and are never weary of admiring their Beauty: so amorous is Nature of whatsoever she produces.

To the end that he may cultivate those Talents which make his Genius,¶458. &c. ‘Qui sua metitur pondera, ferre potest.’ "That we may undertake nothing beyond our forces,Offic. B. 1. we must endeavour to know them." "On this Pru­dence our reputation depends. Cicero calls it a [Page 194] good Grace, because it makes a man seen in his greatest Lustre. 1 Off. "'Tis, (says he) a becoming Grace, which we shall easily make appear, if we are carefull to cultivate that which Nature has given us in propriety, and made our own, provided it be no Vice or Imperfection: we ought to undertake nothing which is repugnant to Nature in general; and when we have paid her this duty, we are bound so reli­giously to follow our own Nature, that though many things which are more serious and more important, present themselves to us, yet we are always to con­form our Studies and our Exercises to our natural Inclinations. It avails nothing to dispute against Nature, and think to obtain what she refuses; for then we eternally follow what we can never reach; for, as the Proverb says, There is nothing can please, no­thing can be gracefull which we enterprize in spight of Minerva; that is to say, in spight of Nature. When we have consider'd all these things attentively, it will then be necessary, that every man should re­gard that in particular, which Nature has made his portion, and that he should cultivate it with care; 'tis not his business to give himself the trouble of try­ing whether it will become him to put on the Nature of another man; or as one would say, to act the per­son of another: there is nothing which can more be­come us, than what is properly the Gift of Nature. [Page 195] Let every one therefore endeavour to understand his own Talent, and without flattering himself, let him make a true judgment of his own Vertues, and his own Defects and Vices; that he may not appear to have less judgment than the Comedians, who do not always chuse the best Plays, but those which are best for them; that is, those which are most in the compass of their acting. Thus we are to fix on those things for which we have the strongest Inclination. And if it sometimes happen that we are forc'd by necessity to apply our selves to such other things to which we are no ways inclin'd; we must bring it so about by our Care and Industry, that if we perform them not very well, at least we may not do them so very ill as to be sham'd by them: we are not so much to strain our selves to make those Vertues ap­pear in us which really we have not, as to avoid those Imperfections which may dishonour us." These are the Thoughts and the Words of Cicero, which I have translated, retrenching onely such things as were of no concernment to my Subject: I was not of opinion to add any thing, and the Rea­der I doubt not will find his satisfaction in them.

While you meditate on these Truths, ¶464. and observe them diligently, &c. There is a great Connexion betwixt this Precept and that other, which tells you, That you are to pass no day without drawing a line. [Page 196] 'Tis impossible to become an able Artist, without making your Art habitual to you: and 'tis im­possible to gain an exact Habitude, without an infinite number of Acts, and without perpetual Practice. In all Arts the Rules of them are learn'd in little time; but the perfection is not acquir'd without a long Practice and a severe Diligence. We never saw that Laziness produc'd any thing which was excellent, Diss. 34. says Maximus Tyrius: and Quincti­lian tells us, That the Arts draw their beginning from Nature; the want we often have of them causes us to search the means of becoming able in them, and exercise makes us entirely Masters of them.

The morning is the best and most proper part of the day, ¶466. &c. Because then the Imagination is not clouded with the Vapours of Meat, nor distracted by Visits which are not usually made in the morn­ing. And the Mind by the Sleep of the forego­ing Night, is refresh'd and recreated from the Toyls of former Studies. Malherbe says well to this purpose.

[Page 197] Let no day pass over you without drawing a line, ¶468. &c. That is to say, without working, without giving some strokes of the Pencil or the Crayon. This was the Precept of Apelles; and 'tis of so much the more necessity, because Painting is an Art of much length and time, and is not to be learn'd with­out great Practice. Michael Angelo at the Age of fourscore years, said, That he learn'd something every day.

Be ready to put into your Table-book, ¶473. &c. As it was the custom of Titian and the Carraches; there are yet remaining in the hands of some who are curious in Painting; many thoughts and obser­vations which those great Men have made on Pa­per, and in their Table-books which they carry'd continually about them.

Wine and good Cheer are no great Friends to Paint­ing,¶475. they serve onely to recreate the Mind when it is oppress'd and spent with Labour, &c. "During the time, says Pliny, that Protogenes was drawing the Picture of Jalysus, which was the best of all his Works, he took no other nourishment than Lupines mix'd with a little water, which serv'd him both for Meat and Drink, for fear of clogging his Imagination by the Luxury of his Food." Mi­chael Angelo, while he was drawing his day of Judg­ment, fed onely on Bread and Wine at Dinner. [Page 198] And Vasari observes in his life, that he was so so­ber that he slept but little, and that he often rose in the Night to work, as being not disturb'd by the Vapours of his thin Repasts.

But delights in the liberty which belongs to the Bat­chelors Estate, ¶478. &c. We never see large and beau­tifull and well-tasted Fruits proceeding from a Tree which is incompass'd round, and choak'd with Thorns and Bryars. Marriage draws a world of business on our hands, subjects us to Law-suits, and loads us with multitudes of do­mestick Cares, which are as so many Thorns that encompass a Painter, and hinder him from producing his works in that perfection of which otherwise he is capable. Raphael, Michael Angelo, and Hannibal Carracci were never marry'd: and amongst the Ancient Painters we find none recorded for being marry'd, but onely Apelles, to whom Alexander the Great made a present of his own Mistress Campaspe; which yet I would have understood without offence to the Institution of Marriage, for that calls down many Blessings up­on Families, by the Carefulness of a vertuous Wife. If Marriage be in general a remedy against Concupiscence, 'tis doubly so in respect of Paint­ers; who are more frequently under the occasi­ons of Sin than other Men; because they are un­der [Page 199] a frequent necessity to seeing Nature bare-fac'd. Let every one examine his own strength upon this point: but let him preferr the interest of his Soul to that of his Art and of his Fortune.

Painting naturally withdraws from noise and tu­mult, ¶480. &c. I have said at the end of the first Re­mark, that both Poetry and Painting were up­held by the strength of Imagination. Now there is nothing which warms it more than Repose and Solitude: Because in that estate, the Mind being freed from all sorts of business, and in a kind of San­ctuary undisturb'd by vexatious Visits, is more capable of forming noble Thoughts and of Appli­cation to its Studies.

We may properly say the same of Painting, by reason of its conformity with Poetry, as I have shown in the first Remark.

Let not the covetous design of growing rich,¶484. &c. We read in Pliny,1500. l. that Nicias refus'd Sixty Ta­lents from King Attalus, and rather chose to make a free Gift of his Picture to his Country. [Page 200] "I enquir'd of a prudent man,Petron. Ar biter. (says a grave Author) in what times those noble Pictures were made which now we see; and desir'd him to explain to me some of their Subjects, which I did not well understand. I ask'd him likewise the reason of that great negligence which is now visible amongst Painters: And from whence it proceeded, that the most beautifull Arts were now bury'd in Oblivion, and principally Paint­ing, a faint Shadow of which is at present remaining to us. To which he thus reply'd, That the immode­rate desire of Riches had produc'd this change: For of old, when naked Vertue had her Charms, the no­ble Arts then flourish'd in their Vigour: and if there was any contest amongst men, it was onely who should be the first Discoverer of what might be of ad­vantage to posterity. Lysippus and Myron, those renown'd Sculptors, who could give a Soul to Brass, left no Heirs, no Inheritance behind them, because they were more carefull of acquiring Fame than Ri­ches. But as for us of this present Age, it seems by the manner of our Conduct, that we upbraid An­tiquity for being as covetous of Vertue as we are of Vice: wonder not so much therefore, if Painting has lost its Strength and Vigour, because many are now of opinion, that a heap of Gold is much more beautifull than all the Pictures and Statues of Apelles and Phidias, and all the noble Performances of Greece."

[Page 201] I would not exact so great an act of Absti­nence from our modern Painters, for I am not ignorant that the hope of gain is a wonderfull sharp spur in Arts, and that it gives industry to the Artist; from whence it was that Iuvenal said even of the Greeks themselves, who were the In­ventors of Painting, and who first understood all the Graces of it and its whole perfection;

But I could heartily wish, that the same hope which flatters them did not also corrupt them: and did not snatch out of their hands a lame, imperfect Piece, rudely daub'd over with too lit­tle Reflection and too much haste.

The qualities requisite to form an excellent Painter, ¶487. &c. 'Tis to be confess'd that very few Painters have those qualities which are requir'd by our Au­thor, because there are very few, who are able Pain­ters. There was a time when onely they who were of noble Blood, were permitted to exercise this Art; because it is to be presum'd, that all these Ingredi­ents of a good Painter, are not ordinarily found in men of vulgar Birth. And in all appearance, we may [Page 202] hope that though there be no Edict in France which takes away the Liberty of Painting from those to whom Nature has refus'd the Honour of being born Gentlemen, yet at least that the Royal Acade­my will admit hence-forward onely such who being endu'd with all the good Qualities and the Ta­lents which are requir'd for Painting, those en­dowments may be to them instead of an honoura­ble Birth. 'Tis certain, that which debases Paint­ing, and makes it descend to the vilest and most despicable kind of Trade, is the great multitude of Painters who have neither noble Souls nor any Talent for the Art, nor even so much as com­mon Sence. The Origin of this great Evil, is that there have always been admitted into the Schools of Painting all sorts of Children promis­cuously, without Examination of them, and without observing for some convenient space of time, if they were conducted to this Art by their inward Disposition, and all necessary Talents, rather than by a foolish Inclination of their own, or by the Avarice of their Relations, who put them to Painting, as a Trade which they believe to be somewhat more gainfull than another. The qualities properly requir'd, are these follow­ing.

[Page 203] A good Iudgment, That they made do nothing a­gainst Reason and Verisimility.

A docible Mind, That they may profit by in­structions, and receive without Arrogance the opinion of every one, and principally of know­ing Men.

A noble Heart, That they may propose Glory to themselves, and Reputation rather than Ri­ches.

A Sublimity, and Reach of Thought, To conceive radily, to produce beautifull Ideas, and to work on their Subjects nobly and after a lofty manner, wherein we may observe somewhat that is delicate, ingenious and uncommon.

A warm and vigorous Fancy, To arrive a least to some degree of Perfection, without being tir'd with the Pains and Study which are requir'd in Painting.

Health, To resist the dissipation of Spirits, which are apt to be consum'd by Pains-taking.

Youth, Because Painting requires a great Expe­rience and a long Practice.

Beauty or Handsomeness, Because a Painter paints himself in all his Pictures, and Nature loves to produce her own Likeness.

A convenient Fortune, That he may give his whole time to study, and may work chearfully, [Page 204] without being haunted with the dreadfull Image of Poverty, ever present to his Mind.

Labour, Because the Speculation is nothing without the Practice.

A Love for his Art, We suffer nothing in the Labour which is pleasing to us: or if it hap­pen that we suffer, we are pleas'd with the Pain.

And to be under the Discipline of a knowing Master, &c. Because all depends on the Beginnings, and because commonly they take the manner of their Master, and are form'd according to his Gusto: See Verse 422, and the Remark upon it. All these good qualities are insignificant and un­profitable to the Painter, if some outward dispo­sitions are wanting to him. By which I mean favourable times, such as are times of Peace, which is the Nurse of all noble Arts; there must also some fair occasion offer to make their Skill manifest by the performance of some considera­ble Work within their power: and a Protector, who must be a Person of Authority, one who takes upon himself their care of the Fortune, at least in some measure; and knows how to speak well of them in time and place convenient. 'Tis of much importance, says the Younger Pliny, in what times Vertue appears. And there is no Wit, how­soever excellent it may be, which can make it self im­mediately [Page 205] known. Time and Opportunity are necessary to it, and a person who can assist us with his favour and be a Moecenas to us.

And Life is so short, ¶496. that it is not sufficient for so long an Art, &c. Not onely Painting but all other Arts consider'd in themselves require almost an infinite time to possess them perfectly. 'Tis in this Sense that Hippocrates begins his Aphorisms with this saying, That Art is long and Life is short. But if we consider Arts, as they are in us, and ac­cording to a certain degree of Perfection, suffici­ent enough, to make it known that we possess them above the common sort, and are compara­tively better than most others, we shall not find that Life is too short on that account, provided our time be well employ'd. 'Tis true, that Pain­ting is an Art which is difficult and a great under­taking. But they who are endu'd with the quali­ties that are necessary to it, have no reason to be discourag'd by that apprehension.Veget. de re Milit. lib. 2. Labour always appears difficult before 'tis try'd. The passages by Sea, and the Knowledge of the Stars, have been thought impossible, which notwithstanding have been found and compass'd, and that with ease by those who endeavour'd after them.Lib. 1. de fin. 'Tis a shamefull thing, says, Cicero, to be weary of Enquiry, when what we search is excellent. That which causes [Page 206] us to lose most of our time, is the repugnance which we naturally have to Labour, and the Igno­rance, the Malice, and the Negligence of our Masters: we waste much of our time in walking and talking to no manner of purpose, in making and receiving idle Visits, in Play and other Plea­sures which we indulge, without reckoning those hours which we lose in the too great care of our Bodies; and in Sleep, which we often lengthen out till the day is far advanc'd: and thus we pass that Life which we reckon to be short, because we count by the years which we have liv'd, ra­ther than by those which we have employ'd in stu­dy. 'Tis evident that they who liv'd before us, have pass'd through all those difficulties to arrive at that Perfection which we discover in their Works, though they wanted some of the Advantages which we possess, and that none had labour'd for them as they have done for us. For 'tis certain that those Ancient Masters, and those of the last preceding Ages, have left such beautifull Patterns to us, that a better and more happy Age can ne­ver be than ours; and chiefly under the Reign of our present King, who encourages all the noble Arts, and spares nothing to give them the share of that Felicity of which he is so bountifull to his Kingdom: and to conduct them with all man­ner [Page 207] of advantages to that supreme Degree of Ex­cellence, which may be worthy of such a Master, and of that Sovereign Love which he has for them. Let us therefore put our hands to the work, with­out being discourag'd by the length of time, which is requisite for our Studies; but let us seriously contrive how to proceed with the best Order, and to follow a ready, diligent, and well understood Method.

Take Courage therefore, ¶500. O ye noble Youths! you legitimate Offspring of Minerva, who are born under the influence of a happy Planet. &c. Our Author intends not here to sow in a barren, ungratefull Ground, where his Precepts can bear no Fruit: He speaks to young, Painters, but to such onely who are born under the Influence of a happy Star; that is to say, those who have receiv'd from Nature the necessary dispositions of becoming great in the Art of Painting: and not to those who follow that Study through Caprice or by a sottish Inclination, or for Lucre, who are either incapable of receiving the Precepts, or will make a bad use of them when receiv'd.

You will do well, ¶509. &c. Our Author speaks not here of the first Rudiments of Design; as for ex­ample, The management of the Pencil, the just relation which the Copy ought to have to the O­riginal, [Page 208] &c. He supposes, that before he begins his Studies, one ought to have a Facility of Hand to imitate the best Designs, the noblest Pictures and Statues, that in few words he should have made himself a Key, wherewith to open the Clo­set of Minerva, and to enter into that Sacred Place, where those fair Treasures are to be found in all abundance, and even offer themselves to us, to make our advantage of them by our Care and Genius.

You are to begin with Geometry, ¶509. &c. Because that is the Ground of Perspective, without which nothing is to be done in Painting: besides, Geome­try is of great use in Architecture, and in all things which are of its dependence; 'tis particularly ne­cessary for Sculptors.

Set your self on designing after the Ancient Greeks, ¶510. &c. Because they are the Rule of Beauty, and give us a good Gusto: For which reason 'tis ve­ry proper to tie our selves to them, I mean ge­nerally speaking; but the particular Fruit which we gather from them, is what follows. To learn by heart four several Ayres of Heads: of a Man, a Woman, a Child, and an Old Man. I mean those which have the most general Ap­probation; for example those of the Apollo, of the Venus de Medices, of the little Nero, (that is, [Page 209] when he was a Child,) and of the God Tiber. It would be a good means of learning them, if when you have design'd one after the Statue it self, you design it immediately after from your own Ima­gination, without seeing it; and afterwards ex­amine, if your own work be conformable to the first Design. Thus exercising your self on the same Head, and turning it on ten or twelve sides; you must do the same to the Feet, to the Hands, to the whole Figure. But to understand the Beauty of these Figures, and the justness of their Outlines, it will be necessary to learn Anatomy: when I speak of four Heads and four Figures, I pretend not to hinder any one from designing many others after this first Study, but my mean­ing is onely to show by this, that a great Varie­ty of things undertaken at the same time, dissipates the Imagination, and hinders all the Profit; in the same manner as too many sorts of Meat are not easily digested, but corrupt in the Stomach instead of nourishing the parts.

And cease not Day or Night from Labour, ¶511. till by your continual Practice, &c. In the first Princi­ples, the Students have not so much need of Pre­cepts as of Practice: And the Antique Statues be­ing the rule of Beauty, you may exercise your selves in imitating them without apprehending [Page 210] any consequence of ill Habits and bad Ideas, which can be form'd in the Soul of a young Be­ginner. 'Tis not, as in the School of a Master, whose Manner and whose Gust are ill, and under whose Discipline the Scholar spoils himself the more he exercises.

And when afterwards your Iudgment shall grow stronger, ¶514. &c. 'Tis necessary to have the Soul well form'd, and to have a right Judgment to make the Application of his rules upon good Pictures, and to take nothing but the good. For there are some who imagine, that whatsoever they find in the Picture of a Master, who has acquir'd Repu­tation, must of necessity be excellent; and these kind of people never fail when they copy to fol­low the bad as well as the good things; and to observe them so much the more, because they seem to be extraordinary and out of the com­mon road of others, so that at last they come to make a Law and Precept of them. You ought not also to imitate what is truly good in a crude and gross Manner, so that it may be found out in your works, that whatsoever Beauties there are in them, come from such or such a Master. But in this imitate the Bees, who pick from every Flower that which they find most proper in it to make Honey. In the same manner a young [Page 211] Painter should collect from many Pictures what he finds to be the most beautifull, and from his several Collections form that Manner which thereby he makes his own.

A certain Grace which was wholly natural and pecu­liar to him,¶520. &c. Raphael in this may be compar'd to Apelles, who in praising the Works of other Painters, said That Gracefulness was wanting to them: and that without Vanity he might say, it was his own peculiar portion. See the Remark on the 218th. Verse.

Julio Romano,¶522. (educated from his Childhood in the Country of the Muses,) &c. He means in the Studies of the belle lettere, and above all in Poe­sy, which he infinitely lov'd. It appears, that he form'd his Ideas and made his Gust from read­ing Homer; and in that imitated Zeuxis and Po­lignotus, who, as Tyrius Maximus relates, treated their Subjects in their Pictures, as Homer did in his Poetry.

To these Remarks I have annex'd the Opini­ons of our Author upon the best and chiefest Painters of the two foregoing Ages. He tells you candidly and briefly what were their Excel­lencies, and what their Failings.

I pass in Silence many things which will be more am­ply treated in the ensuing Commentary. ¶541. 'Tis evi­dent [Page 212] by this, how much we lose, and what da­mage we have sustain'd by our Authors death, since those Commentaries had undoubtedly con­tain'd things of high Value and of great instru­ction.

To intrust with the Muses, ¶544. &c. That is to say, to write in Verse, Poetry being under their Protection, and consecrated to them.

THE JUDGMENT OF Charles Alphonse du Fresnoy, On the Works of the Principal and Best PAINTERS of the two last Ages.

PAINTING was in its Perfection amongst the Greeks. The principal Schools were at Sy­cion, afterwards at Rhodes, at Athens, and at Corinth, and at last in Rome. Wars and Luxury having overthrown the Roman Empire, it was totally extinguish'd, together with all the noble Arts, the Studies of Humanity, and the other Sciences.

It began to appear again in the Year 1450 a­mongst some Painters of Florence, of which DO­MENICO GHIRLANDAIO was one, who was Master to Michael Angelo, and had some kind of Reputation, though his manner was Gothique and ve­ry dry.

[Page 214] MICHAEL ANGELO his Scholar, flourish'd in the times of Julius the second, Leo the tenth, Paul the third, and of eight successive Popes. He was a Painter, a Sculptor, and an Architect, both Civil and Military. The Choice which he made of his Po­stures was not always beautifull or pleasing: His Gust of Designing was not the finest, nor his Out-lines the most elegant: The Folds of his Draperies, and the Ornaments of his Habits, were neither noble nor grace­full. He was not a little fantastical and extravagant in his Compositions; he was bold even to Rashness, in taking Liberties against the Rules of Perspective. His Colouring is not over true or very pleasant. He knew not the Artifice of the Lights and Shadows: But he design'd more learnedly, and better understood all the Knittings of the Bones, with the Office and Situation of the Muscles, than any of the modern Painters. There appears a certain Air of Greatness and Severity in his Figures, in both which he has oftentimes succeeded: But above the rest of his Excellencies, was his won­derfull skill in Architecture, wherein he has not onely surpass'd all the Moderns, but even the Ancients also: The St. Peter's of Rome, the St. John's of Flo­rence, the Capitol, the Palazzo Farnese, and his own House, are sufficient Testimonies of it. His Scholars were Marcello Venusto, Andrea de Vater­ra, Il Rosso, Georgio Vasari, Fra. Bastiano, (who [Page 215] commonly painted for him) and many other Florentines.

PIETRO PERUGINO design'd with sufficient knowledge of Nature, but he is dry and his manner little. His Scholar was

RAPHAEL SANTIO, who was born on Good Friday, in the Year 1483, and died on Good Friday, in the Year 1520: So that he liv'd onely 37 years compleat. He surpass'd all modern Painters, because he possess'd more of the excellent parts of Painting than any other; and 'tis believ'd, that he equall'd the Ancients, excepting onely that he design'd not naked Bodies with so much Learning, as Michael Angelo: But his Gust of Designing is purer and much better. He painted not with so good, so full, and so gracefull a manner as Correggio; nor has he any thing of the Contrast of the Lights and Shadows, or so strong and free a Colouring, as Titian; but he had a better dis­position in his Pieces without comparison, than either Titian, Correggio, Michael Angelo, or all the rest of the succeeding Painters to our days. His Choice of Postures, of Heads, of Ornaments, the Sui­tableness of his Drapery, his manner of Designing, his Varieties, his Contrasts, his Expressions, were beau­tifull in Perfection; but above all, he possess'd the Graces in so advantageous a manner, that he has ne­ver since been equall'd by any other. There are Protraits (or single Figures of his) which are fi­nish'd [Page 216] Pieces. He was an admirable Architect. He was handsome, well made, and tall of Stature, civil, and well-natur'd, never refusing to teach another what he knew himself. He had many Scholars, amongst others, Julio Romano, Polydore, Gaudens, Gi­ovanni d'Udine, and Michael Coxis. His Gra­ver was Marc Antonio, whose Prints are admira­ble for the correctness of their Out-lines.

JULIO ROMANO was the most excellent of all Raphael's Scholars; he had Conceptions which were more extraordinary, more profound, and more eleva­ted, than even his Master himself. He was also a great Architect, his Gust was pure and exquisite. He was a great Imitator of the Ancients, giving a clear Testimony in all his Productions, that he was desirous to restore to Practice the same Forms and Fabricks which were an­cient. He had the good Fortune to find great persons who committed to him the care of Edifices, Vestibu­les and Portico's, all Tetrastyles, Xistes, Theatres, and such other places as are not now in use. He was wonderfull in his Choice of Postures. His manner was drier and harder than any of Raphael's School. He did not exactly understand the Lights and Sha­dows or the Colours. He is frequently harsh and ungracefull: The Folds of his Draperies are neither beau­tifull nor great, easie nor natural, but all extravagant and too like the Habits of fantastical Comedians. He [Page 217] was very knowing in humane Learning. His Scho­lars were Pirro Ligorio, (who was admirable for An­cient Buildings, as for Towns, Temples, Tombs, and Trophies, and the Situation of Ancient Edifices) Aeneas Vico, Bonasone, Georgio Mantuano, and others.

POLYDORE, Scholar to Raphael, design'd admirably well, as to the practical part, having a par­ticular Genius for Freezes, as we may see by those of white and black, which he has painted at Rome. He imitated the Ancients, but his manner was greater than that of Julio Romano: Nevertheless Julio seems to be the truer. Some admirable Grouppes are seen in his Works, and such as are not elsewhere to be found. He colour'd very seldom, and made Landt­schapes of a reasonable good Gusto.

GIO. BELLINO, one of the first who was of any consideration at Venice, painted very drily accor­ding to the manner of his time. He was very know­ing both in Architecture and Perspective. He was Titian's first Master, which may easily be observ'd in the first Painting of that noble Scholar, in which we may remark that Propriety of Colours which his Ma­ster has observ'd.

About this time GEORGIONE the Contempora­ry of Titian came to excell in Portraits or Face-paint­ing, and also in great Works. He first began to make [Page 218] choice of Glowing and Agreeable Colours; the Perfe­ction and entire Harmony of which were afterwards to be found in Titian's Pictures. He dress'd his Fi­gures wonderfully well: And it may be truly said, that but for him, Titian had never arriv'd to that height of Perfection, which proceeded from the Rivalship and Iealousy of Honour betwixt those two.

TITIAN was one of the greatest Colourists, who was ever known; he design'd with much more Ease and Practice than Georgione. There are to be seen Wo­men and Children of his hand, which are admirable both for the Design and Colouring: the Gust of them is delicate, charming and noble, with a certain pleasing Negligence of the Head-dresses, the Draperies and Or­naments of Habits, which are wholly peculiar to him. As for the Figures of Men, he has design'd them but moderately well. There are even some of his Draperies, which are mean and savour of a little gust. His painting is wonderfully glowing, sweet and delicate. He made Portraicts, which were extremely noble; the Postures of them being very gracefull, grave, diver­sify'd, and adorn'd after a very becoming fashion. No man ever painted Landtschape, with so great a man­ner, so good a colouring, and with such a resemblance of Nature. For eight or ten years space, he copy'd with great labour and exactness whatsoever he under­took; thereby to make himself an easy way, and to esta­blish [Page 219] some general maximes for his future conduct. Besides the excellent gust which he had of Colours, in which he excell'd all Mortal Men, he perfectly under­stood how to give every thing the touches which were most suitable, and proper to them, such as distin­guish'd them from each other; and which gave the greatest Spirit, and the most of Truth. The Pictures which he made in his beginning, and in the declension of his Age, are of a dry, and mean manner. He liv'd ninety nine years. His Scholars were Paulo Vero­nese, Giacomo Tintoret, Giacomo da Ponte, Bassano, and his Brothers.

PAULO VERONESE was wonderfully graceful in his Airs of Women: with great variety of shining Draperies; and incredible vivacity, and ease. Never­theless his Composition is sometimes improper; and his Design is uncorrect. But his colouring, and whatso­ever depends on it, is so very charming in his Pictures, that it surprizes at the first sight, and makes us totally forget those other qualities which are wanting in him.

TINTORET was Scholar to Titian, great in the practical part of Designing; but sometimes also sufficiently extravagant. He had an admirable Ge­nius for Painting, if he had had as great an affection to his Art, and as much patience in undergoing the difficulties of it, as he had fire and vivacity of Nature: [Page 220] He has made Pictures, not inferiour in beauty to those of Titian: his Composition and his Dresses, are for the most part improper; and his Out-lines are not cor­rect: But his Colouring, and the dependencies of it, like that of his Master, are most admirable.

The BASSANS had a more mean and poorer gust in Painting than Tintoret; and their Designs were also less correct than his. They had indeed an excellent gust of Colours; and have touch'd all kinds of Animals with an admirable manner: But were notoriously im­perfect in the Composition and Design.

CORREGGIO painted at Parma two large Cupo­lo's in Fresco, and some Altar-pieces. This Artist, found out certain natural and unaffected Graces, for his Madonnas', his Saints, and little Children, which were particular to him. His Manner is exceed­ing great, both for the design and for the work, but withall is very uncorrect. His Pencil was both easie and delightfull, and 'tis to be acknowledg'd, that he painted with great Strength, great Heightning, great Sweetness, and liveliness of Colours, in which none sur­pass'd him.

He understood how to distribute his Lights in such a manner as was wholly peculiar to himself, which gave a great force and great roundness to his Figures. This manner consists in extending a large Light, and then making it lose it self insensibly in the dark shadowings, [Page 221] which he plac'd out of the Masses. And those give them this great roundness, without our being able to perceive from whence proceeds so much of force, and so vast a pleasure to the Sight. 'Tis probable, that in this part the rest of the Lombard School copied him: he had no great choice of gracefull Postures, nor of distribution for beautifull Grouppes: his Design often­times appears lame, and the Positions are not much ob­serv'd in them. The Aspects of his Figures are many times unpleasing; but his manner of designing Heads, Hands, Feet, and other parts, is very great, and well deserves our imitation. In the conduct and finishing of a Picture, he has done wonders; for he painted with so much Union, that his greatest Works seem'd to have been finish'd in the compass of one day; and appear, as if we saw them from a Looking-glass. His Landt­schape is equally beautifull with his Figures.

At the same time with Correggio, liv'd and flou­rish'd PARMEGIANO; who besides his great man­ner of well Colouring, excell'd also both in Invention and Design, with a Genius full of gentleness and of spirit, having nothing that was ungracefull in his choice of Postures and in the dresses of his Figures, which we cannot say of Correggio: there are Pieces of his to be seen, which are both beautifull and cor­rect.

[Page 222]These two Painters last mention'd, had very good Scho­lars, but they are known onely to those of their own Pro­vince; and besides there is little to be credited of what his Country-men say, for Painting is wholly extin­guish'd amongst them.

I say nothing of LEONARDO da VINCI, because I have seen but little of his, though he re­stor'd the Arts at Milan, and had many Scholars there.

LUDOVICO CARRACCI, Uncle to Han­nibal and Augustine, studied at Parma after Cor­reggio; and excell'd in Design and Colouring, with such a Gracefulness, and so much Candour, that Gui­do the Scholar of Hannibal, did afterwards imitate him with great success. There are some of his Pi­ctures to be seen, which are very beautifull, and well understood. He made his ordinary residence at Bo­logna, and it was He, who put the Pencil into the hands of Hannibal his Nephew.

HANNIBAL in a little time excell'd his Master, in all parts of Painting: He imitated Correggio, Titian, and Raphael, in their different manners as he pleas'd, excepting onely that you see not in his Pi­ctures, the Nobleness, the Graces, and the Charms of Raphael, and that his Out-lines are neither so pure, nor so elegant as his. In all other things, he is won­derfully accomplish'd, and of an Universal Genius.

[Page 223] AUGUSTINO, Brother to Hannibal, was also a very good Painter, and an admirable Graver. He had a Natural Son, call'd ANTONIO, who dyed at the age of 35, and who according to the general opinion, wou'd have surpass'd his Uncle Hannibal: for by what he left behind him, it appears that he was of a more lofty Genius.

GUIDO chiefly imitated Ludovico Carracci, yet retain'd always somewhat of the manner which his Ma­ster Lawrence the Flemming taught him. This Lawrence liv'd at Bologna, and was Competitor and Rival to Ludovico Carracci: Guido made the same use of Albert Durer, as Virgil did of old Ennius: borrow'd what pleas'd him, and made it afterwards his own: that is, he accommodated what was good in Al­bert to his own manner: which he executed with so much gracefulness and beauty, that He alone got more Money, and more Reputation in his time, than his own Masters, and all the Scholars of the Carraches, though they were of greater capacity than himself. His Heads yield no manner of precedence to those of Raphael.

SISTO BADOLOCCHI design'd the best of all his Scholars: but he dy'd young.

DOMENICHINO was a very knowing Painter, and very laborious, but otherwise of no great Natural Endowments: 'tis true, he was profoundly skill'd in all the parts of Painting, but wanting Genius, as I said, [Page 224] he had less of nobleness in his Works than all the rest who studied in the School of the Carraches.

ALBANO was excellent in all that belong'd to Painting, and adorn'd with variety of Learning.

JOHN LANFRANC, a Man of a great and sprightly wit, supported his Reputation for a long time with an extraordinary gust of Design and Colouring. But his foundation being onely on the practical part, be at length lost ground in point of correctness: so that many of his Pieces appear extravagant and fantastical. And after his Decease, the School of the Carraches went dayly to decay in all the parts-Painting.

GIO. VIOLA was very old before he learn'd Landtschape, the knowledge of which was imparted to him by Hannibal Carracche, who took pleasure to instruct him, so that he painted many of that kind which are wonderfully fine and well colour'd.

If we cast our eyes towards Germany and the Low-Countries, we may there behold ALBERT DU­RER, LUCAS VAN LEYDEN, HOLBEIN, ALDEGRAVE, and ISBIN, who were all Con­temporaries. Amongst these, Albert Durer and Hol­bein, were both of them wonderfully knowing and had certainly been of the first form of Painters, had they travell'd into Italy: For nothing can be laid to their charge, but onely that they had a Gothique Gust. As for Holbein, he perform'd yet better than Raphael; [Page 225] and I have seen a Portrait of his Painting, with which one of Titian's could not come in Competition.

Amongst the Flemmings, we had RUBENS, who deriv'd from his Birth, a lively, free, noble and uni­versal Genius. A Genius which was capable not one­ly of raising him to the rank of the Ancient Painters, but also to the highest employment in the Service of his Country: so that he was chosen for one of the most important Embassies of our Age. His Gusto of De­signing savours somewhat more of the Flemming than of the Beauty of the Antique, because he stay'd not long at Rome. And though we cannot but observe in all his Paintings, somewhat of great and noble; yet it must be confess'd, that generally speaking, he design'd not correctly: But for all the other parts of Painting, he was as absolute a Master of them, and possess'd them all as throughly as any of his Predecessors in that noble Art. His principal Studies were made in Lombardy, after the Works of Titian, Paul Veronese and Tin­toret; whose Cream he has skimm'd (if you will allow the Phrase) and extracted from their several Beau­ties many general Maxims and infallible Rules, which he always follow'd, and by which he has acquir'd in his Works, a greater Facility than that of Titian; more of Purity, Truth and Science, than Paul Veronese; and more of Majesty, Repose and Moderation, than Tintoret. To conclude, His manner is so solid, so [Page 226] knowing, and so ready, that it may seem, this rare accomplish'd Genius was sent from Heaven to instruct Mankind in the Art of Painting.

His School was full of admirable Scholars, amongst whom VAN DYCK was he, who best comprehend­ed all the Rules and general Maxims of his Master; and who has even excell'd him in the delicacy of his Colouring and in his Cabinet Pieces; but his Gust in the designing Part, was nothing better than that of Ru­bens.