"Having since that period," continues Sir Joshua, "frequentl

Transcriber's note:

Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).

Text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=).

SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS' DISCOURSES:

Edited, with an Introduction, by

HELEN ZIMMERN.

Walter Scott

London: 24 Warwick Lane

Paternoster Row

1887

CONTENTS.

DISCOURSE I. PAGE

The advantages proceeding from the institution of a Royal

Academy.--Hints offered to the consideration of the Professors

and visitors.--That an implicit obedience to the rules of Art

be exacted from the young students.--That a premature

disposition to a masterly dexterity be repressed.--That

diligence be constantly recommended, and (that it may be

effectual) directed to its proper object 1

DISCOURSE II.

The course and order of study.--The different stages of Art.--Much

copying discountenanced.--The Artist at all times and in all

places should be employed in laying up materials for the

exercise of his Art 10

DISCOURSE III.

The great leading principles of the grand style.--Of beauty.--The

genuine habits of nature to be distinguished from those of

fashion 25

DISCOURSE IV.

General ideas the presiding principle which regulates every part

of Art; Invention, Expression, Colouring, and Drapery.--Two

distinct styles in history-painting; the grand and the

ornamental.--The schools in which each is to be found.--The

composite style.--The style formed on local customs and

habits, or a partial view of nature 39

DISCOURSE V.

Circumspection required in endeavouring to unite contrary

excellencies.--The expression of a mixed passion not to be

attempted.--Examples of those who excelled in the great

style.--Raffaelle, Michel Angelo, those two extraordinary

men compared with each other.--The characteristical

style.--Salvator Rosa mentioned as an example of that style;

and opposed to Carlo Maratti.--Sketch of the characters of

Poussin and Rubens.--These two Painters entirely dissimilar,

but consistent with themselves.--This consistency required in

all parts of the Art 58

DISCOURSE VI.

Imitation.--Genius begins where rules end.--Invention; acquired by

being conversant with the inventions of others.--The true

method of imitating.--Borrowing, how far allowable.--Something

to be gathered from every school 74

DISCOURSE VII.

The reality of a standard of taste as well as of corporal

beauty.--Beside this immutable truth, there are secondary

truths, which are variable; both requiring the attention of

the Artist, in proportion to their stability or their

influence 98

DISCOURSE VIII.

The principles of Art, whether Poetry or Painting, have their

foundation in the mind; such as novelty, variety, and

contrast; these in their excess become defects.--Simplicity,

its excess disagreeable.--Rules not to be always observed in

their literal sense; sufficient to preserve the spirit of the

law.--Observations on the Prize Pictures 129

DISCOURSE IX.

On the removal of the Royal Academy to Somerset Place.--The

advantages to Society from cultivating intellectual pleasure 154

DISCOURSE X.

Sculpture: Has but one style.--Its objects, form, and

character.--Ineffectual attempts of the modern Sculptors to

improve the art.--Ill effects of modern dress in Sculpture 158

DISCOURSE XI.

Genius: Consists principally in the comprehension of _A whole_;

in taking general ideas only 174

DISCOURSE XII.

Particular methods of study of little consequence--Little of

the art can be taught.--Love of method often a love of

idleness.--_Pittori improvvisatori_ apt to be careless and

incorrect; seldom original and striking:--This proceeds

from their not studying the works of other masters 190

DISCOURSE XIII.

Art not merely imitation, but under the direction of the

Imagination.--In what manner Poetry, Painting, Acting,

Gardening, and Architecture depart from Nature 211

DISCOURSE XIV.

Character of _Gainsborough_: his excellencies and defects 230

DISCOURSE XV.

The _President_ takes leave of the Academy.--A Review of the

Discourses.--The study of the Works of _Michel Angelo_

recommended 248

THE IDLER, No. 76. False Criticisms on Painting 269

---- No. 79. The Grand Style of Painting 275

---- No. 82. The true idea of Beauty 279

INTRODUCTION.

Sir Joshua Reynolds--to whom is the name unfamiliar? to whom, hearing

it, does not appear in mental vision the equally familiar autograph

portrait of the deaf artist? This picture, painted originally for Mr.

Thrale, shows us the painter "in his habit as he lived," spectacles on

nose, ear-trumpet in hand--in short, exactly as he was known to his

intimates in his latter days in domestic life. Another autograph

picture of the artist in younger life hangs to-day in the National

Gallery. Close by is seen the portrait by the same hand of his equally

illustrious friend, bluff, common-sense Dr. Johnson, whom he

represents as reading and holding his book close to his eyes after the

manner of the short-sighted. It would seem that this mode of

representation roused Dr. Johnson's ire. "It is not friendly," he

remarked, "to hand down to posterity the imperfections of any person."

This comment of the doctor's is equally characteristic of the man and

his times. At so low an ebb was art and art criticism in those days,

that people less learned than Johnson failed to grasp the truth of

Reynolds' dictum, now become almost a commonplace, that a portrait but

receives enhanced value as a human and historical document if it makes

us acquainted with any natural peculiarity that characterises the

person delineated. Johnson rebelled against the notion he deduced from

this circumstance that Sir Joshua would make him known to posterity by

his defects only; he vowed to Mrs. Thrale he would not be so known.

"Let Sir Joshua do his worst, . . . he may paint himself as deaf as he

chooses, but I will not be blinking Sam."

In this anecdote, in this juxtaposition of two great names, each

thoroughly representative of their epoch, can be traced both the cause

of Sir Joshua's success, and of the difficulties against which he had

to strive. Reynolds may with truth be named the father of modern

English art, for before him English art can scarcely be said to have

existed, since what was produced on British soil was chiefly the work

of foreigners. The records even of this older art are sufficiently

barren. It would appear that in the reign of Henry III. some foreign

artists were invited over to decorate Winchester Castle, but of them

and their works little trace remains. At the time when Italy was

producing her masterpieces no native artist of whom we have record

bedaubed canvas in Great Britain; and when the pomp-loving Henry VIII.

wished to vie with his great contemporaries, Charles V., Leo X., and

Francis I., he had to turn to the Continent for the men to execute his

desires. That he himself had no true taste or love for the arts is

well known; it was purely the spirit of emulation that prompted him.

How crude were his own art notions may be gathered from the written

instructions he left for a monument to his memory. They serve equally

to illustrate the state of public taste in England at a period when

Italy was inspired by the genius of Michael Angelo, of Raphael, and of

Titian. The memorandum directs that "the king shall appear on

horseback, of the stature of a goodly man; while over him shall appear

the image of God the Father, holding the king's soul in his left hand,

and his right extended in the act of benediction." This work was to

have been executed in bronze, and was considerably advanced when

Elizabeth put a stop to its progress. It was afterwards sold by the

Puritan parliament for six hundred pounds. Still, for all his own

artistic incapacity, it is more than probable that had not Henry, for

private domestic reasons, adopted the Reformed faith, England under

his reign might have witnessed a prosperous art period, which, it is

true, would not have been native art, but might have given impetus

towards its birth. Thackeray was fond of saying that it was no idle

speculation to suppose what would have happened had Napoleon won the

battle of Waterloo. To those who love such fruitless mental sports it

may prove no idle speculation to ponder what would have happened had

Henry's amorous desires not led him to liberate himself and his nation

from the bosom of the Catholic Church. Enough that the facts are

there, and that with the first ardour of Protestant zeal there also

made itself felt a chilling influence, casting a blight over

literature and art, and more especially over art, till then so almost

exclusively the handmaiden of religion, that a work of art came to be

regarded as a symbol and remembrance of popery, and "painting and

sculpture were conscientiously discouraged as tending to encourage

idolatry and superstition and to minister to passion and luxury."

Queen Mary, Elizabeth, and James I., each in their way gave some

encouragement to foreign artists, such as Moro, Zucchero, and Mytens,

but their patronage was purely personal, and did not operate upon the

taste of the nation. More extended influence was exercised by Charles

I. This monarch had a real love and understanding for art, and under

him Rubens and Vandyke employed their pencils. He also bought many

pictures, and encouraged his nobles to do the like. At least, among

the upper classes the narrow Puritan art views were greatly

counteracted. But Charles had to lay his head upon the block, and

Puritanism had fuller and more unchecked sway than ever before,

creating influences which to this very day are not wholly extinct,

though happily in their death throes. Their latest survival is the

"British Matron" who writes to the _Times_ denouncing modern pictures

that displease her individual taste, and the artists, happily rare and

few, who preach that the study of the nude and anatomy is no essential

part of a painter's education.

After the death of Charles a general wreck of works of art ensued.

Whatever survived the bigotry of the Puritans was sacrificed to supply

their pecuniary necessities. A curious mixture of superstition and

covetousness was displayed. The journals of the House of Commons of 1645

afford some interesting reading like the following:--"Ordered: that all

pictures and sketches as are without superstition shall be forthwith

sold for the benefit of Ireland and the north. Ordered: that all such

pictures as have the representation of the Virgin Mary upon them shall

be forthwith burnt. Ordered: that all such pictures as have the

representation of the Second Person of the Trinity upon them shall be

forthwith burnt." It seems, however, that these orders were not quite

strictly executed. The Puritan conscience having been relieved by this

edict, many prohibited pictures were sold at a high price to swell the

coffers of the zealots. After this it is needless to remark that art did

not flourish under the Commonwealth. With the Restoration we find Lely

practising his method of portrait-painting, succeeded by Sir Godfrey

Kneller, neither, however, being Englishmen. The era of George I.

produced as native painters, Richardson and Sir James Thornhill; under

George II. Hudson flourished; it was reserved to the long reign of

George III. to see the birth of what can be truly termed art, of what

alone can measure itself with the nations of the Continent. Hogarth was

the first upon the list, but Hogarth, inimitable as he is, was rather a

satirist than an artist in the full acceptation of the term. Of beauty

of draughtmanship, of colour, we find next to nothing in his canvasses.

Together with him flourished Hudson, and a little later Wilson and

Gainsborough, who, like himself, and, indeed, like all English artists

up to that time, had imbibed their teaching through the medium of

Flanders, producing exact and careful work--indeed, in Gainsborough's

case, work of real beauty--but lacking on the side of poetical feeling

and elevation. Such a method must be regarded as the infancy of art, its

purely observant but unthinking side. It was reserved to Reynolds to

open out to English understanding the vista of Italian art, with its

glories, its perfections, and it is owing to his Discourses, even more

than to his works, that this mighty revolution came about; a revolution

so mighty, so important, that for its sake alone, had he never limned a

canvas, the name of Reynolds should stand forth proudly in the annals of

England. It was he who, coming to Italy, already in mature manhood, as a

finished artist in the eyes of his countrymen, had the perception and

the courage to admit before the works of Raphael and Michael Angelo

that it was needful for him "to become as a little child" and recommence

his studies upon principles of which hitherto he was ignorant.

Joshua Reynolds was born at Plympton, in Devonshire, July 16th, 1723,

the tenth child of the Rev. Samuel Reynolds, rector of Plympton and

principal of the local grammar school. His father was the boy's only

instructor. He had destined him, it would seem, for the medical

profession, and Reynolds is known to have said in latter life that if

this design had been carried out, "he should have felt the same

determination to become the most eminent physician as he then felt to be

the first painter of his age and country." It was, indeed, his decided

opinion (an opinion modern psychology would hardly endorse) that "the

superiority attainable in any pursuit whatever does not originate in an

innate propensity of the mind for that pursuit in particular, but

depends on the general strength of the intellect, and on the intense and

constant application of that strength to a specific purpose." He held

that ambition was the cause of eminence, but that accident pointed out

the means. It is impossible to decide whether or no Reynolds illustrates

his own theory, but from what he said in private, and also in his

Discourses, many erroneous conclusions are drawn as to this point. As

his biographer, Northcote, justly observes, Reynolds "never meant to

deny the existence of genius, supposing the term to denote a greater

degree of natural capacity in some minds than others; but he always

contended strenuously against the vulgar and absurd interpretation of

the word, which supposes that the same person may be a man of genius in

one respect, but utterly unfit for, and almost an idiot in everything

else; and that this singular and unaccountable faculty is a gift born

with us, which does not need the assistance of pains or culture, time or

accident, to improve and perfect it."

Whatever Reynolds' private views on the subject of native taste

asserting itself in the young, he himself undoubtedly showed a liking

for art at an early age, and his taste was fostered by his father,

himself an amateur possessing a small collection of anatomical and other

prints. If Joshua's love of drawing did not interfere with his other

studies, his father did not check it. Thus there is extant to this day a

perspective drawing of a bookcase under which Mr. Reynolds has written,

"Done by Joshua out of pure idleness." It is on the back of a Latin

exercise. He copied such prints as he could find in his father's

library, Jacob Cats's _Book of Emblems_ furnishing him with the richest

store. This his grandmother, who was a native of Holland, had

contributed to the family bookshelves. When he was only eight years old

he read with eagerness _The Jesuit's Perspective_, and so thoroughly did

he master its rules that he never afterwards had to study any other

works on the subject. An application of these rules to practice is

preserved in a drawing of the grammar school at Plympton. It was so well

done that the father exclaimed, "Now this exemplifies what the author of

the 'Perspective' asserts, that by observing the rules laid down in this

book a man may do wonders, for this is wonderful."

Visitors to the Reynolds' Exhibition, which was held in the Grosvenor

Gallery in 1884, may remember this little drawing, which was among the

exhibits.

Portraits of his family and friends next occupied Reynolds' youthful

pencil, while his love of art was influenced by reading Richardson's

_Treatise of Painting_. This book first awoke in him his enthusiastic

adoration of Raffaelle (of whose works he had till then seen nothing),

a love he cherished until the end of his days. At seventeen his liking

for art showing no diminution, the father decided he should follow a

painter's career, and took him to London, where he placed him under

Hudson, the most eminent artist England could then boast. By a curious

accident he was entered at Hudson's on St. Luke's day, the patron

saint of art and artists. Hudson set him at work at copying, a system

Sir Joshua afterwards strenuously condemned. His words on this matter,

written in the 2nd Discourse, should be "read, marked, learned, and

inwardly digested" by all art professors and students--they are golden

words of wisdom.

Notwithstanding the master's inadequate teaching, the pupil made such

progress that he aroused Hudson's jealousy, who, after two years'

apprenticeship, found a pretext for dismissing him. Reynolds, with

what he had learnt, continued to paint down in Devonshire, taking the

portraits of the local magnates. How conventional his style was at

first is proved by the following anecdote. It was a favourite attitude

with the portrait-painters of the time to represent their model with

one hand in waistcoat and the hat under the arm, convenient because it

dispensed the artist from the difficult task of painting the hand. Now

it happened that one gentleman, whose portrait Reynolds painted,

desired to have his hat on his head. The picture, which was quickly

finished and posed in a commonplace attitude, was done without much

study. When sent home, it was discovered, on inspection, that although

this gentleman in his portrait had one hat upon his head, there was

another under his arm.

For three years Reynolds painted in Devonshire, and certainly improved

greatly under his own instructions and those of William Gandy of

Exeter, so that some of the works of this period are undoubtedly fine.

During these first years of seclusion he taught himself to think as

well as to paint; and that the labour of the mind is the most

essential requisite in forming a great painter is a doctrine he

constantly inculcates in his Discourses, distinguishing it from that

of the hand. He aptly applied the dictum of Grotius--"Nothing can come

of nothing"--to demonstrate the necessity of teaching.

The more Reynolds thought, however, the less was he satisfied with his

own performances, and that he did not see himself progress with

greater speed no doubt fretted him the more, inasmuch as he had early

declared it his fixed opinion that if he did not prove himself the

best painter of his time, when arrived at the age of thirty, he never

should. For the completion of his studies he unceasingly felt that he

must visit Italy, and behold with his own eyes those masterpieces of

which he had heard so much. Chance offered him a passage to the

Continent in the flagship of Viscount Keppel, and thus, at the age of

twenty-six, May 11th, 1749, Reynolds first set sail for the

Continent, and for the land of his desires and aspirations.

On Sir Joshua's death papers were found on which were written a number

of detached thoughts, jotted down as hints for a Discourse, never

written, in which the artist intended to give a history of his mind, so

far as it concerned his art, his progress, studies, and practice. One of

these fragments narrates his feelings on first seeing the treasures of

Italian art, and is sufficiently remarkable. "It has frequently

happened," he writes, "as I was informed by the keeper of the Vatican,

that many of those whom he had conducted through the various apartments

of that edifice, when about to be dismissed, have asked for the works of

Raffaelle, and would not believe that they had already passed through

the rooms where they are preserved; so little impression had these

performances made on them. One of the first painters in France told me

that this circumstance happened to himself; though he now looks on

Raffaelle with that veneration which he deserves from all painters and

lovers of art. I remember very well my own disappointment when I first

visited the Vatican; but on confessing my feelings to a brother student,

of whose ingenuousness I had a high opinion, he acknowledged that the

works of Raffaelle had the same effect on him; or rather, that they did

not produce the effect which he expected. This was a great relief to my

mind; and, on inquiring farther of other students, I found that those

persons only who from natural imbecility appeared to be incapable of

ever relishing these divine performances, made pretensions to

instantaneous raptures on first beholding them. In justice to myself,

however, I must add, that though disappointed and mortified at not

finding myself enraptured with the works of this great master, I did not

for a moment conceive or suppose that the name of Raffaelle and those

admirable paintings in particular owed their reputation to the ignorance

and prejudice of mankind; on the contrary, my not relishing them, as I

was conscious I ought to have done, was one of the most humiliating

things that ever happened to me. I found myself in the midst of works

_executed upon principles_ _with which I was unacquainted_. I felt my

ignorance, and stood abashed.

"All the indigested notions of painting which I had brought with me

from England, where the art was at the lowest ebb--it could not indeed

be lower--were to be totally done away with and eradicated from my

mind. It was necessary, as it is expressed on a very solemn occasion,

that I should become _as a little child_. Notwithstanding my

disappointment, I proceeded to copy some of those excellent works. I

viewed them again and again; I even affected to feel their merits and

to admire them more than I really did. In a short time a new taste and

new perceptions began to dawn upon me, and I was convinced that I had

originally formed a _false opinion of the perfection of art_, and that

this great painter was well entitled to the high rank which he holds

in the estimation of the world.

"The truth is, that if these works had been really what I expected,

they would have contained beauties superficial and alluring, but by no

means such as would have entitled them to the great reputation which

they have long and so justly obtained."

It must, of course, be borne in mind, reading these words, that Sir

Joshua Reynolds had not the advantages put into the way to-day, not

only of art students, but of every person more or less interested in

art, in the way of copies, photographs, autotypes, from the works and

drawings of the great masters. He had to learn to understand, and he

at once put himself into the attitude of the learner, humbly assured

that the fault in appreciation must be in himself, not in those

masterpieces. His good sense told him that "the duration and stability

of their fame is sufficient to evince that it has not been suspended

upon the slender thread of fashion and caprice, but bound to the human

heart by every tie of sympathetic approbation."

"Having since that period," continues Sir Joshua, "frequently revolved

the subject in my mind, I am now clearly of opinion that a relish for

the higher excellences of the art is an acquired taste, which no man

ever possessed without long cultivation and great labour and

attention. On such occasions as that which I have mentioned, we are

often ashamed of our apparent dulness, as if it were expected that our

minds, like tinder, should instantly catch fire from the divine spark

of Raffaelle's genius. I flatter myself that _now_ it would be so, and

that I have a just perception of his great powers; but let it be

remembered that the excellence of his style is not on the surface, but

lies deep, and at the first view is seen but mistily. It is the florid

style which strikes at once, and captivates the eye, for a time,

without ever satisfying the judgment. Nor does painting in this

respect differ from other arts. A just poetical taste, and the

acquisition of a nice discriminative musical ear, are equally the work

of time. Even the eye, however perfect in itself, is often unable to

distinguish between the brilliancy of two diamonds, though the

experienced jeweller will be amazed at its blindness; not considering

that there was a time when he himself could not have been able to

pronounce which of the two was the most perfect, and that his own

power of discrimination was acquired by slow and imperceptible degrees."

From the first Reynolds avoided making copies, and had refused

lucrative orders. He sketched portions of pictures, such as he thought

would help his own comprehension, but he would do no slavish

imitation. "The man of true genius," writes Sir Joshua, "instead of

spending all his hours, as many artists do while they are at Rome, in

measuring statues and copying pictures, soon begins to think for

himself, and endeavour to do something like what he sees. I consider

general copying," he adds, "as a delusive kind of industry: the

student satisfies himself with the appearance of doing something; he

falls into the dangerous habit of imitating without selecting, and

labouring without a determinate object; as it requires no effort of

mind, he sleeps over his work, and those powers of invention and

disposition which ought particularly to be called out and put into

action lie torpid, and lose their energy for want of exercise. How

incapable of producing anything of their own those are who have spent

most of their time in making finished copies, is an observation well

known to all those who are conversant with our art."

His own precise method of study is not known, but it may be assumed

that he was chiefly occupied in reasoning on what he observed.

Elsewhere he writes--"A painter should form his rules from pictures

rather than from books or precepts; rules were first made from

pictures, not pictures from rules. Every picture an artist sees,

whether the most excellent or the most ordinary, he should consider

whence that fine effect or that ill effect proceeds, and then there is

no picture ever so indifferent but he may look at it to his profit."

"The artist," he observes, "who has his mind filled with ideas, and

his hand made expert by practice, works with ease and readiness;

whilst he who would have you believe that he is waiting for the

inspirations of genius, is in reality at a loss how to begin, and is

at last delivered of his monsters with difficulty and pain. The

well-grounded painter, on the contrary, has only maturely to consider

his subject, and all the mechanical parts of his art will follow,

without his exertion."

The mode of study which Sir Joshua adopted himself he continually

recommends to the students: "Instead of copying the touches of those

great masters, copy only their conceptions; instead of treading in their

footsteps, endeavour only to keep the same road; labour to invent on

their general principles and way of thinking; possess yourself with

their spirit; consider with yourself how a Michael Angelo or a Raffaelle

would have treated this subject, and work yourself into a belief that

your picture is to be seen and criticised by them when completed; even

an attempt of this kind will raise your powers.

"We all must have experienced how lazily, and consequently how

ineffectually, instruction is received when forced upon the mind by

others. Few have been taught to any purpose who have not been their

own teachers. We prefer those instructions which we have given

ourselves from our affection to the instructor; and they are more

effectual from being received into the mind at the very time when it

is most open to receive them."

Having stayed in Rome as long as his resources allowed, Sir Joshua

visited Florence, Venice, and some of the smaller Italian towns,

everywhere adopting the same careful, observant method of study.

After an absence of nearly three years he returned to England, feeling

himself indeed a mentally richer, wiser man than he set out.

It was after his return from Italy that Reynolds took up his permanent

abode in London, then, as now, the only true centre for art or

literature. At first he met much opposition; Hudson especially was

fiercely critical over Reynolds' new style, saying to him, "You don't

paint so well now as you did before you went to Italy." Another

eminent portrait-painter of the time, now long since consigned to

oblivion, shook his head sadly on seeing one of Sir Joshua's finest

portrait works, saying, "Oh, Reynolds, this will never answer: why,

you don't paint in the least in the manner of Kneller." And when the

artist tried to expose his reasons, his rival, not able to answer him,

left the room in a fury, shouting, "Damme! Shakespeare in poetry, and

Kneller in painting; damme!"

Nevertheless, Reynolds soon became a favourite with the public, and

his painting-room a fashionable resort. To this end his courtly manner

and agreeable conversation may greatly have aided. By the year 1760 he

had become the most sought for portraitist of his day, and was making

as much as £6000 a-year, in those days a very large sum for an artist

to earn, especially as the price he charged for his portraits was very

low as compared with modern artistic demands.

It was in 1759 that Reynolds first put down some of his artistic ideas

in writing. He contributed three papers to the _Idler_, then edited by

Dr. Johnson, with whom he had, on coming to London, formed that

friendship which lasted all their lives. They are the Numbers 76, 79,

and 82, and are reprinted in this volume.

"These papers," observes Northcote, "may be considered as a kind of

syllabus of all his future discourses; and they certainly occasioned

him some thinking in their composition. I have heard Sir Joshua say

that Johnson required them from him on a sudden emergency, and on that

account he sat up the whole night to complete them in time; and by it

he was so much disordered that it produced a vertigo in his head."

The following year, 1760, the one in which Reynolds removed to his

larger residence in Leicester Square, is memorable in the annals of

English art. It witnessed the first public exhibition of modern

paintings and sculptures, and proved so satisfactory that it was

repeated, and finally laid the foundation for what became the Royal

Academy. The catalogue to one of these first exhibitions was penned by

Dr. Johnson, and is written in his usual pompous style. The worthy

doctor had little appreciation for the fine arts, and in a private

letter to Baretti, speaking of this innovation, he says: "This

exhibition has filled the heads of artists and lovers of art. Surely

life, if it be not long, is tedious; since we are forced to call in

the assistance of so many trifles to rid us of our time--of that time

which never can return."

In 1768 the Royal Academy was founded by royal charter, and was opened

January 1, 1769. Reynolds had been elected its President, and in

accordance with the custom that prevails to this day, received,

together with this dignity, the compliment of knighthood. On this

occasion he delivered the first of his Discourses, in which, mingled

with general instructions concerning the purpose and method of art, we

find the needful servile adulation of the reigning sovereign. The

second, far more able and to the point, was delivered at the end of

the same year on the occasion of the distribution of prizes to the

students. It contains his admirable views with regard to copying. From

henceforth, on the same occasion, every two years, when the gold

medals are given, up to December 1790, Sir Joshua delivered such an

address to the students, making in all fifteen Discourses that are

read with pleasure to this day. At the last the hall was so crowded

that a beam supporting the floor actually gave way with the weight.

That outsiders should have been so eager to come is astonishing on

this account, that Reynolds, like most Englishmen, had no powers of

elocution. His manner in delivering his speeches was shy and awkward,

and he often spoke so low that those at some distance could not hear

him. His deafness in a measure may have accounted for this, for, like

all deaf people, he could not modulate his voice; but yet more, his

truly British horror lest he should seem to be posing as an orator.

It was no part of Sir Joshua's prescribed duty as President to deliver

an address on the presentation of medals; but, "if prizes were to be

given," he himself remarked in the last Discourse, "it appeared not

only proper, but indispensably necessary, that something should be

said by the President on the delivery of those prizes; and the

President, for his own credit, would wish to say something more than

mere words of compliment; which, by being frequently repeated, would

soon become flat and uninteresting, and, by being uttered to many,

would at last become a distinction to none. I thought, therefore, if I

were to preface this compliment with some instructive observations on

the art, when we crowned merit in the artists whom we rewarded, I

might do something to animate and guide them in their future attempts."

It was, perhaps, the fact that Reynolds intended this Discourse to be

his last, his farewell to the Academy he had served so long and well,

that attracted such a crowd. In it he takes a review of all his past

Discourses, and ends with commending to the students the works of his

idol, Michael Angelo. It was a source of joy to him that the last word

he spoke in that hall was the name of this adored master. "I felt a

self-congratulation in knowing myself capable of such sensations as he

intended to excite. I reflect, not without vanity, that these Discourses

bear testimony of my admiration of that truly divine man; and I should

desire that the last words which I should pronounce in this Academy, and

from this place, might be the name of _Michael Angelo_!"

Before the next occasion for a Discourse occurred Reynolds was quietly

sleeping his eternal sleep in St. Paul's Cathedral, having died February

23, 1792, after two years' suffering, borne with cheerful fortitude.

There are those who think that English art has rather retrograded than

progressed since the days of Reynolds. To those who speak thus it is

only needful to tell that Pliny already spoke of painting as a "dying

art." After this we need reason with such blind admirers of antiquity

_quâ_ antiquity no farther. That Reynolds was a great artist is

universally admitted beyond dispute; but to speak of him as the

greatest, as unapproachable henceforward, is as absurd as to claim, as

did his contemporaries, that anything so able as his art discourses

had never been penned. These were above all impressed by the undoubted

influence Johnson had upon Reynolds' style, giving it that pedantic

ring, that monotony of cadence, that want of colour, which is

precisely what we moderns least admire. We should hardly assent to the

contemporary lines lauding Dr. Johnson and saying--

"To fame's proud cliff behold our Raphael rise,

Hence Reynolds' pen with Reynolds' pencil vies."

But then, in any case, such fulsome flattery is not in accordance with

the spirit of our century. We might, too, now-a-days think it dubious

praise that Johnson, after reading one of his friend's essays and

praising it in general, should pick out one passage in particular with

the remark--"I think I might as well have said this myself." More

valuable we should consider the praise of Burke, who, writing to Mr.

Malone, says, "I have read over some part of the discourses with an

unusual sort of pleasure. . . . He is always the same man, the same

philosophical, the same artist-like critic, the same sagacious observer,

with the same minuteness, without the smallest degree of trifling."

This is true; Sir Joshua's polished mind and calm philosophical

observation makes itself felt in every line of his writings.

There was a time when envious calumny disputed the authorship of these

Discourses, attributing them now to Burke, now to Johnson. The

imputation is too futile to need refutation. There are those who deny

to any man the merit of having written his own works, commencing with

Homer and Shakespeare. This is a strange craze of the critical mind.

Seeing the work is the result of a human hand, why not, for example,

allow that Shakespeare wrote what he claims as his own, in lieu of

attributing the authorship to Lord Bacon? Again, why should there not

have been a Homer as there was a Dante, in lieu of an aggregation of

men? A very petty and despicable envy, or the frantic desire of saying

something new and strange to attract attention to ourselves, may be

pronounced the motor force of such theories.

Reynolds' Discourses may be described as the first attempt in the

English language at what may be called a philosophy of art. To this

day there are in English few works of this character. A science

corresponding to the German _Aesthetik_ does not exist in English, for

what modern cant has dubbed æstheticism, the child's play of

"passionate Brompton" and languishing South Kensington, must on no

account be confounded with a real serious study that in German

universities fills a special chair. The cause for this lack is no

doubt to be sought in the vastly diverse genius of the two nations.

The German is nothing if not abstract; the Englishman nothing if not

positive; and on this account the English take art, as well as all

else, from the practical side. To mention but a few German works of

this character. Hegel has written a philosophy of the fine arts

scarcely less valuable to art-students and painters, and perchance

even as unknown to the latter--for artists are rarely readers--as the

works of the same class written by Winckelmann and Lessing. Reynolds

addressed an audience not merely of readers and theoreticians, but of

actual workers, practical students; and he strove, therefore, to

combine theory with positive facts, hoping thus to bridge over the

gulf which made, and still unhappily makes, English art-students learn

their profession too much by mere rule of thumb. That Reynolds' work

is neither final nor all-embracing goes without saying. The mere fact

that these lectures were delivered but rarely, forming no designed

sequence, would have hindered such an end, even had Reynolds'

knowledge been sufficient to accomplish it. Under the circumstances,

it is sufficiently remarkable that they really form so complete a

whole as they undoubtedly do. The one leading idea that informs them

is the necessity for the student to study the works of the great

masters, above all of the Roman and Tuscan schools; and on this

doctrine, then so new, Reynolds could not insist enough. In his last

Discourse, with great modesty he sums up so ably what he has achieved,

that it is best to let him speak for himself. After saying how unequal

he had been to the expression of his ideas, he continues:--

"To this work, however, I could not be said to come totally unprovided

with materials; I had seen much, and I had thought much upon what I

had seen; I had something of a habit of investigation, and a

disposition to reduce all that I had observed and felt in my own mind

to method and system; but I thought it indispensably necessary well to

consider the opinions which were to be given out from this place, and

under the sanction of a Royal Academy; I therefore examined not only

my own opinions but likewise the opinions of others.

"In revising my discourses, it is no small satisfaction to be assured

that I have in no part of them lent my assistance to foster

_newly-hatched unfledged opinions_, or endeavoured to support

paradoxes, however tempting may have been their novelty, or however

ingenious I might, for the minute, fancy them to be; nor shall I, I

hope, anywhere be found to have imposed on the minds of young students

declamation for argument, a smooth period for a sound precept. I have

pursued a plain and _honest method_; I have taken up the art simply as

I found it exemplified in the practice of the most approved painters.

That approbation which the world has uniformly given, I have

endeavoured to justify by such proofs as questions of this kind will

admit; by the analogy which painting holds with the sister arts, and

consequently by the common congeniality which they all bear to our

nature. And though in what has been done no new discovery is

pretended, I may still flatter myself that from the discoveries which

others have made from their own intuitive good sense and native

rectitude of judgment (in allusion to the works of the old masters) I

have succeeded in establishing the rules and principles of our art on

a more firm and lasting foundation than that on which they formerly

had been placed."

It is worthy of note, as yet another proof of Sir Joshua's justice of

judgment and objectivity, that, speaking of portrait-painting

(_Discourse III._), he puts it low in rank among the various

departments of painting. He strove with all his power to elevate

English art methods, to lead artists to practice what he named the

"grand style," and it was on this account that he ever and always held

up to imitation the gods of his idolatry, Michael Angelo and

Raffaelle. What he writes concerning _pittori improvisatori_ may well

be laid to heart to-day when Impressionism threatens to swamp genuine

study and careful draughtsmanship. Indeed, looked at from all sides,

Sir Joshua's _Discourses_ worthily take rank among the English

classics, and it has been truly said that "with Reynolds' literature

was the playmate of art, and art became the handmaiden of literature."

That detractors have not been lacking is a matter of course, but

Reynolds, like others, can console himself with Goethe's lines--

"Die schlechsten Früchte sindd es nichtt

Woran die Wespen nagen."

Some of these objections merit reproduction. Who can read, for

instance, without a smile, the words of Blake, that sweet, childlike

mind, which was at once so penetrative and so uncritical? The smile

will of course be one of gentle sympathy, such as one ever accords to

that wayward genius. He writes in his notes--

"Whether Reynolds knew what he was doing is nothing to me. The

mischief is the same whether a man does it ignorantly or knowingly. I

always considered true art and true artists particularly insulted and

degraded by the reputation of these discourses; as much as they were

degraded by the reputation of Reynolds' paintings, and that such

artists as Reynolds are, at all times, hired by Satan for the

depression of art; a pretence of art to destroy art."

Once Blake finds a passage after his own heart: "A firm and

determined outline is one of the characteristics of the great style of

painting!" Against which is written, "Here is a noble sentence! a

sentence which overthrows all his book."

With no more than justice he remarks on the very weakest feature in Sir

Joshua's system: "Reynolds' opinion was, that genius may be taught, and

all pretence to inspiration is a lie or deceit, to say the least of it.

If it is deceit, the whole Bible is madness." Of the _Third Discourse_

he energetically avers: "The following discourse is particularly

interesting to blockheads, as it endeavours to prove that there is no

such thing as inspiration, and that any man of plain understanding may,

by thieving from others, become a Michael Angelo." Again--

"No real style of colouring now appears,

Save through advertisements in the newspapers;

Look there--you'll see Sir Joshua's colouring;

Look at his pictures--all has taken wing."

Again, when Reynolds tells his hearers that "enthusiastic admiration

seldom promotes knowledge,"--"And such is the coldness with which

Reynolds speaks! And such is his enmity! Enthusiastic admiration is the

first principle of knowledge and its last. How he begins to degrade, to

deny, and to mock! The man, who, on examining his own mind, finds

nothing of inspiration, ought not to dare to be an artist. He is a fool

and an amusing knave suited to the purposes of evil demons. The man who

never in his mind and thought travelled to Heaven is no artist. It is

evident that Reynolds wished none but fools to be in the arts, and in

order to compass this, he calls all others rogues, enthusiasts, or

madmen. What has reasoning to do with the art of painting?"

It is evident that Blake has not always fully followed Reynolds'

meaning. Indeed, Sir Joshua is at times a little obscure, a

circumstance his detractors did not overlook, nicknaming him Sir

Obadiah Twylight, and classifying his style as "sub-fusk."

Concerning this _Third Discourse_, which deals with the grand style

and the right imitation of nature, an anecdote is preserved. West was

at the time painting his picture of the "Death of Wolfe." When it was

understood that he meant to paint the characters as they actually

appeared on the scene, the Archbishop of York called on Reynolds and

asked his opinion concerning this. Both visited West and endeavoured

to dissuade him. West, firm in his rejection of the classic dress,

replied, "I want to mark the place, the time, and the people, and to

do this I must abide by truth."

When the picture was finished he called Sir Joshua to see it. Reynolds

seated himself before the canvas and examined it with interest for

half-an-hour, and then, rising, said, "West has conquered; he has

treated the subject as it ought to be treated." So just was Reynolds'

mind that he could admit the truth even when it opposed his own

theories.

Ruskin has also contributed his quota to the Reynolds controversy.

Writing in his favourite antithetic style, he says:--

"Nearly every word that Reynolds wrote was contrary to his own

practice; he seems to have been born to teach all error by his

precept, and all excellence by his example; he enforced with his lips

generalisation and idealism, while with his pencil he was tracing the

patterns of the dresses of the belles of the day; he exhorted his

pupils to attend only to the invariable, while he himself was occupied

in distinguishing every variation of womanly temper; and he denied the

existence of the beautiful at the same instant that he arrested it as

it passed, and perpetuated it for ever."

Thus to Sir Joshua's lot, as to all who put themselves before the

world, has fallen a portion of praise and blame; but the best praise

that can be accorded a man's work is that it should survive him, and

continue to arouse interest long after his death. This most certainly

is the case with regard to Reynolds' _Discourses_, and therefore to

them may apply what he has himself said as to the duration of

masterpieces. Not faultless, not all-embracing, but full of historical

and individual interest, of keen and careful observation, of judicious

thought, they merit the attention of the modern reading public--a

public far more largely interested in art than ever existed in the day

when their writer lived and painted and lectured.

HELEN ZIMMERN.

TO THE KING.

The regular progress of cultivated life is from necessaries to

accommodations, from accommodations to ornaments. By your illustrious

predecessors were established Marts for manufactures, and Colleges for

science; but for the arts of elegance, those arts by which

manufactures are embellished, and science is refined, to found an

Academy was reserved for Your Majesty.

Had such patronage been without effect, there has been reason to

believe that Nature had, by some insurmountable impediment, obstructed

our proficiency; but the annual improvement of the Exhibitions which

Your Majesty has been pleased to encourage, shows that only

encouragement had been wanting.

To give advice to those who are contending for royal liberality has

been for some years the duty of my station in the Academy; and these

Discourses hope for Your Majesty's acceptance, as well-intended

endeavours to incite that emulation which your notice has kindled, and

direct those studies which your bounty has rewarded.

May it please Your MAJESTY,

Your MAJESTY'S

Most dutiful Servant

And most faithful Subject,

[1778.] JOSHUA REYNOLDS.

TO THE MEMBERS

OF

THE ROYAL ACADEMY.

GENTLEMEN,

Sir Joshua Reynolds' Discourses Edited, with an Introduction, by Helen Zimmern · 第 1 / 22 段