CHAP. V.

OF PAINTING.

Or all the arts generally included under the appellation of Imitative, that of painting undoubtedly deserves the first rank; not merely for the beauty and diversity of the tints it affords, nor that artful disposition of light and shade which often deceives the eye, but for a higher consideration, namely, that of pourtraying nature in the most animated, lively, and interesting manner. It may be defined, the art of representing, by means of lines shadows and colours, every visible object in nature; and, expressing, by the lineaments of the countenance, and attitude of the body, the various emotions of the mind. On a smooth surface may be expressed objects, not only in such a state of projection, (and if the laws of perspective be observed) so effectually as to deceive the eye of the unwary beholder. They may be represented also in the most enchanting dress, and in a manner capable of affording delight to the senses. It is an essential characteristic of this art, that it addresses itself to the mind; and inspires us with pity for a suffering victim, with dread of an impending danger, with courage to imitate an heroic example, and with every other passion that has a seat in the human breast.

From this definition of the art it will naturally be conceived that its successful execution is attended with no small difficulty; it is the reward only of labour and assiduity: and, among its numerous followers, how few arrive at superior excellence! None can truly appreciate the value of the art, till they be fully acquainted with the difficulty attending its execution; nor the reward due to those finished productions, till by their own practical knowledge they are convinced of the frequent failures of many excellent artists.

The professors of this art are principally divided into two classes, namely those who speak to the eye, and those who apply to the mind of the observer. The former comprehends a very large group, and nearly the whole of the profession in every country of any single age in Europe. Among them we may include the generality of portrait painters, painters of landscapes, and all those who endeavour to convey conceptions to the spectator which are merely agreeable, but which do not interest the passions: many of those, undoubtedly, possess considerable merit, and may be ranked first in the style of decoration and embellishment. But the latter class, who apply to the mind, and who, by their artful delineation and colouring, convey those noble and profound sentiments possessed by themselves to the spectator, and who are more capable of fixing the attention than dazzling the eye, are of the highest or

der of artists.

That artist whose highest aim is to please, or astonish, the spectator, by the variety and opposition of tints, and illusion of colours, must rest satisfied with that secondary kind of fame, above which his merit will

never exalt him. No higher praise is due to that assiduous genius, who industriously groups together a great assemblage of objects in one piece, in order to give animation to his work, and fix the attention of the observer; whereas the general effects of such productions are confusion, from the multiplicity of characters, and consequently disgust. For in painting, as in poetry, it is only by adding sublimity to the sublime objects of nature, that the artist can truly merit, or ever justly obtain, those immortal wreaths which the nations of the world have unanimously decreed to Homer, Virgil, Milton, Raphael, Michael Angelo, and the statuary who modelled the ancient Apollo. So also, the poet who clothes trivial, or common ideas in verse, is at best but a maker of rhymes; while he, who delivers agreeable sentiments, and pleasing thoughts, in round flowing numbers, is generally distinguished by the appellation of a pleasing poet: but he who adorns great events, and noble and sublime sentiments, with all the imagery of numbers, is a great poet, and a successful painter of nature. He, and similar geniuses only, whether they express their sentiments in verse, or in colours, on brass, or on marble; whether painters, poets, or statuaries; deserve all the respect due to superior minds. They are of the number of these men whom nature, sparing of her best gifts, grants but occasionally to their fellow-creatures, to improve and elevate, with more refined sentiments, the general race.

Painting, like all the other liberal arts, is reducible, in a great measure, to certain generally received rules and precepts. And though these precepts, and perhaps all others that could be given, be alone (that is, without some portion of genius) insufficient to produce a good artist; yet they will almost at all times, prevent a man from being a bad one. They are the reflections of the greatest masters, and consequently demand the greatest attention. They point out those rocks which the student should avoid; and are, therefore, indispensable to his success. They facilitate his labours, and direct him in the shortest and surest road to perfection. They refine his taste, teach him to discover the truly beautiful in nature or art, and strengthen and confirm his judgment. It is art only, founded on just and proper rules, that is capable of divesting nature of her wild and savage appearance, and bestowing on her that grace, elegance, dignity, and politeness, which render her the object of our admiration.

The principal object of all the polite arts is beauty, and their theory consists of genius and taste.-Beauty is one of those terms of which we more readily conceive the meaning, without any definition, than by the most elaborate explanation. The more philosophers attempt to elucidate the sense of the term, the more they envelope it in darkness, and that in proportion to the different ideas men form of this quality, influenced by the prejudices of custom, education, &c. It may, however, in general, be affirmed, that beauty is the union of the various perfections of which any object is susceptible, and which it actually possesses; and that the perfections which produce beauty, consist principally in the agreeable and delightful proportions which subsist between the several parts of the same object; between each part and the whole together; and between the several parts, and the end or design of the object to which they belong. This general definition of beauty will always be found to hold good, in every object in which it can be found, notwithstanding several inferior requisites concur to its production, Genius,

by some confounded with invention, is that faculty of the mind by which alone beauty can be produced. Taste, or disposition, is no more than a natural sensation of the mind, refined by art. It serves to direct genius in discerning what is beautiful, and in producing beauty of every kind. Thus it appears, that the general theory of the polite arts is nothing more than the power of discovering what is truly beautiful. The man in possession of this theory is susceptible of all the enchanting power of the polite arts, whose force consisting in expression, applies to the mind through the organs of hearing, as well as those of sight. He is equally charmed with the melody of numbers, the harmony of sound, the productions of the pen, the pencil, the chissel, or the graver.

new.

The first general rule necessary to every follower of the polite arts is to consult his own genius; to divest himself of all self-love and partiality for his own merit, and carefully to examine whether he possess those properties indispensable to his success; the principal of which is, a lively and happy imagination; or, in other words, that inventive faculty of the mind which gives him a facility in always discovering something This assertion may sometimes damp the hopes of the young student, seeing so much has been done in every part of art by his predecessors. There have been many authors, in each of the polite arts, who may seem to have exhausted all the stores of imagination, and have left no materials for novelty or invention; yet there is, perhaps, as much opportunity for the exercise of imagination now, as in the first dawnings of science. And though the fine arts, in their imitations of nature, can borrow images, figures, and comparisons, from those things only that exist and are known, nature is ever changing, and presents to an attentive observer an infinite variety of scenes. New situations of characters may present themselves to the artist's mind; new events take place, both in civil and domestic history; former occurrences may also be rehandled with more success: figures may be grouped in an original and more pleasing manner: the different passions may be more strongly expressed, and the graces more pleasingly described, by one artist than by another. This power of invention consists in the ingenious use of combination; by which any of the various objects of nature are brought together, disposed, and contrasted in such a manner as to form a whole, which is altogether new, happy, and agreeable; which surprises as well as pleases; in which we find a harmony, a perfection, a thought, an expression, quite unexpected, that we could not foresee, nor hope to find, in the manner the artist has so happily placed it.

In the examination of his powers the student should, however, be careful against passing too hasty a verdict on his own demerits: genius is, however, no more than an apt judgment combined with a facility of arranging disposing and uniting suitable objects, in a manner novel pleasing and conforming to the principles of taste. This faculty is often the possession of the student, though he himself be ignorant of his powers. And still more frequently does it lie dormant in his breast, till the latent quality is brought forth by reviewing and endeavouring to imitate the excellence of others.

Secondly; Every artist should incessantly endeavour to improve his taste; or to acquire that sensible refined and clear discernment, which will enable him to distinguish the real beauties in each object, the ornaments that are agreeable to it, the proportions and relations that subsist among the several parts, and every other requisite that concurs to the

production of a finished piece. This practice will regulate and assist his natural talents. But, to attain his excellence, he must be acquainted with the opinions and reflections of the greatest masters, on every material part. He must constantly and assiduously study the great models of beauty, immediately connected with his pursuits; and finally, make his own observations on the properties of all those objects which relate to his art.

The third general rule is, to imitate nature. Every object in the universe has its peculiar nature, which the artist should always imitate in a proper manner. The most profuse ornaments and brilliant strokes, without a due attention to this great model, will never render his work perfect. This rule, though so obvious and necessary, has been too much neglected even by those who are justly considered as the founders of their respective arts. The sublime Homer has sinned against this precept, by representing his deities (who are supposed to be of a more refined and superior nature than mankind) vicious and depraved, vulgar and ridiculous, and that to a degree which would be unpardonable in a frail human being. This is a gross violation of this fundamental rule; others there are, easily committed, and less readily detected. It was not natural to make a hero, at the most critical moment of a decisive battle, deliver a long tedious harangue, which could not be heard by the thou sandth part of a numerous army. These two instances of the violation of this rule, by the father and prince of poets, are noticed to show the student the danger of neglecting this direction. Numberless are the offences of this nature committed by artists, many of them eminent ones; they are strewed over some of the greatest beauties of art. Neither is this to be wondered at ; for this imitation of nature, at first view so simple and easy, is of all things the most difficult in practice: it requires a more than ordinary penetration, and a power of expression rarely to be met with.

The fourth general rule is perspicuity. Nothing is more destructive to beauty and elegance, in all the fine arts, than an obscure ambiguous expression, encumbered with elaborate descriptions, and perplexed with too much contrast: while, on the other hand, plainness and perspicuity impart beauty to composition, of every kind, in each of the arts. Beauty must also be evident and striking to the most ignorant, as well as to the most learned; otherwise it ceases to be beauty: that beauty which requires an explanation, is, at best, but a spurious kind, and neither deserves the artist's attention, nor will it merit general approbation. A happy union of perspicuity, with a just imitation of nature, seldom fails of attracting admiration: and though other requisites may be wanting, those alone are sufficient at least to preserve a production of art from oblivion.

Elevation of sentiment forms the fifth general rule in the pursuit of art. This enables us to express each object in the greatest perfection of which it is susceptible; and thereby we imitate nature in her most exalted beauty. The artist must always raise his mind above his subject, to excite pleasure in others: he should choose the most favourable light wherein to place it; embellishing it with the greatest, most noble, and beautiful ornaments that his imagination can suggest, without departing from the imitation of his great model, NATURE.

Sublimity may be considered as the next and last general rule of art. It arises from the junction of the greatest perspicuty with the most ex

alted sentiment. The most common subjects are as susceptible of being rendered sublime, according to their nature, as the most elevated ones. A poem, prose composition, or painting, are equally capable of sublimity. Truth also forms a principal part of the sublime. Every follower of the liberal arts should constantly aim at the attainment of this exalted excellence. Every thing that is low, unbecoming, or disagreeable, is naturally repugnant to this refined principle, which is founded only in what is strictly true, elevated, and perspicuous.

Of all the researches of man into the records of antiquity, that which concerns the origin of art has attracted the greatest attention. The more pleasure we receive from any refined invention, the more are we solicitous to discover to whom we are indebted for our entertainment. The ancients with a laudable gratitude, deified those benefactors to the human race, who, by their discoveries of useful or polite arts, had contributed to our convenience amusement or delight. The moderns, equally sensible of the same benefits, more rationally investigate the causes which led to those discoveries, the assistance those early artists received from nature, and the diffiulties they met with in their arduous endeavours; and thereby are enabled to draw a just comparison between the original inventor, and the most finished improver of an art, assigning to each his due share of merit.

The origin of most of the useful arts is undoubtedly nearly coeval with that of the human race. The erection of habitations, the preparation of food and clothing, even in their original simplicity, require some mechanical abilities, and experimental knowledge; and from their operations, and the utensils indispensibly requisite in their preparation, an infinite num ber of arts took their rise. Among those termed liberal and polite, many are of such high antiquity as to elude the inquiries of the most diligent antiquarians. Several have, as it were, crept into existence, without any known inventor, and made a gradual and imperceptible advance towards perfection, before they attracted the notice of the industrious historian. Painting, (or, in its most early stage, simply drawing,) falls under the latter class. The first idea of the art must, no doubt, have been formed by man, at a very early period: the shadow of objects, whether plants, trees, or animals, afforded him the means of conceiving, and dictated to him the possibility of representing bodies of a similar nature, upon a plain surface. Many of the most savage nations possess the first rudiments of the art prior to those which are more useful and necessary to existence. They stain their naked bodies with indelible colours, in the forms of animals, stars, &c. This seems to have been the first occasion man had for this art. He soon after made it subservient to civil purposes. It offered a more simple and intelligible method of recording historical events and warlike exploits, than that through the circuitous medium of alphabets of arbitrary characters, invented long aftewards. The hieroglyphics of ancient Egypt, and in latter days the picturesque writing of the Mexicans, answer this purpose.

The master-pieces of the art, in the earlier stages of its history, were not superior to the essays of children: it was not till after many years that they thought of rendering their imitation more complete, by the addition of different colours. This improvement was no more than the laying on of the simple colours, without any shade, in the same manner as maps are stained at the present day. Many nations, as the Egyptians