The addition of other men's judgment is so far from weakening our own,

as is the opinion of many, that it will fashion and consolidate those

ideas of excellence which lay in embryo--feeble, ill-shaped, and

confused--but which are finished and put in order by the authority and

practice of those whose works may be said to have been consecrated by

having stood the test of ages.

The mind, or genius, has been compared to a spark of fire, which is

smothered by a heap of fuel, and prevented from blazing into a flame.

This simile, which is made use of by the younger Pliny, may be easily

mistaken for argument or proof. But there is no danger of the mind

being overburthened with knowledge, or the genius extinguished by any

addition of images; on the contrary, these acquisitions may as well,

perhaps better, be compared, if comparisons signified anything in

reasoning, to the supply of living embers, which will contribute to

strengthen the spark, that without the association of more fuel would

have died away. The truth is, he whose feebleness is such, as to make

other men's thoughts an incumbrance to him, can have no very great

strength of mind or genius of his own to be destroyed; so that not

much harm will be done at worst.

We may oppose to Pliny the greater authority of Cicero, who is

continually enforcing the necessity of this method of study. In his

dialogue on Oratory, he makes Crassus say, that one of the first and

most important precepts is, to choose a proper model for our imitation.

_Hoc sit primum in proeceptis meis, ut demonstremus quem imitemur._

When I speak of the habitual imitation and continued study of masters,

it is not to be understood that I advise any endeavour to copy the

exact peculiar colour and complexion of another man's mind; the

success of such an attempt must always be like his, who imitates

exactly the air, manner, and gestures of him whom he admires. His

model may be excellent, but the copy will be ridiculous; this ridicule

does not arise from his having imitated, but from his not having

chosen the right mode of imitation.

It is a necessary and warrantable pride to disdain to walk servilely

behind any individual, however elevated his rank. The true and liberal

ground of imitation is an open field; where, though he who precedes

has had the advantage of starting before you, you may always propose

to overtake him; it is enough, however, to pursue his course; you need

not tread in his footsteps, and you certainly have a right to outstrip

him if you can.

Nor whilst I recommend studying the art from artists, can I be

supposed to mean that nature is to be neglected; I take this study in

aid, and not in exclusion of the other. Nature is and must be the

fountain which alone is inexhaustible, and from which all excellencies

must originally flow.

The great use of studying our predecessors is, to open the mind, to

shorten our labour, and to give us the result of the selection made by

those great minds of what is grand or beautiful in nature; her rich

stores are all spread out before us; but it is an art, and no easy

art, to know how or what to choose, and how to attain and secure the

object of our choice. Thus, the highest beauty of form must be taken

from nature; but it is an art of long deduction and great experience

to know how to find it. We must not content ourselves with merely

admiring and relishing; we must enter into the principles on which the

work is wrought: these do not swim on the superficies, and

consequently are not open to superficial observers.

Art in its perfection is not ostentatious; it lies hid and works its

effect, itself unseen. It is the proper study and labour of an artist

to uncover and find out the latent cause of conspicuous beauties, and

from thence form principles of his own conduct: such an examination is

a continual exertion of the mind; as great, perhaps, as that of the

artist whose works he is thus studying.

The sagacious imitator does not content himself with merely remarking

what distinguishes the different manner or genius of each master; he

enters into the contrivance in the composition, how the masses of

lights are disposed, the means by which the effect is produced, how

artfully some parts are lost in the ground, others boldly relieved,

and how all these are mutually altered and interchanged according to

the reason and scheme of the work. He admires not the harmony of

colouring alone, but examines by what artifice one colour is a foil to

its neighbour. He looks close into the tints, examines of what colours

they are composed, till he has formed clear and distinct ideas, and

has learnt to see in what harmony and good colouring consists. What is

learnt in this manner from the works of others becomes really our own,

sinks deep, and is never forgotten; nay, it is by seizing on this clue

that we proceed forward, and get further and further in enlarging the

principles and improving the practice of our art.

There can be no doubt but the art is better learnt from the works

themselves, than from the precepts which are formed upon those works;

but if it is difficult to choose proper models for imitation, it

requires no less circumspection to separate and distinguish what in

those models we ought to imitate.

I cannot avoid mentioning here, though it is not my intention at

present to enter into the art and method of study, an error which

students are too apt to fall into. He that is forming himself must

look with great caution and wariness on those peculiarities, or

prominent parts, which at first force themselves upon view; and are

the marks, or what is commonly called the manner, by which that

individual artist is distinguished.

Peculiar marks I hold to be, generally, if not always, defects;

however difficult it may be wholly to escape them.

Peculiarities in the works of art are like those in the human figure;

it is by them that we are cognisable, and distinguished one from

another, but they are always so many blemishes; which, however, both

in real life and in painting, cease to appear deformities to those who

have them continually before their eyes. In the works of art, even

the most enlightened mind, when warmed by beauties of the highest

kind, will by degrees find a repugnance within him to acknowledge any

defects; nay, his enthusiasm will carry him so far, as to transform

them into beauties and objects of imitation.

It must be acknowledged that a peculiarity of style, either from its

novelty or by seeming to proceed from a peculiar turn of mind, often

escapes blame; on the contrary, it is sometimes striking and pleasing;

but this it is a vain labour to endeavour to imitate, because novelty

and peculiarity being its only merit, when it ceases to be new it

ceases to have value.

A manner, therefore, being a defect, and every painter, however

excellent, having a manner, it seems to follow that all kinds of faults,

as well as beauties, may be learned under the sanction of the greatest

authorities. Even the great name of Michel Angelo may be used, to keep

in countenance a deficiency, or rather neglect, of colouring, and every

other ornamental part of the art. If the young student is dry and hard,

Poussin is the same. If his work has a careless and unfinished air, he

has most of the Venetian school to support him. If he makes no selection

of objects, but takes individual nature just as he finds it, he is like

Rembrandt. If he is incorrect in the proportions of his figures,

Correggio was likewise incorrect. If his colours are not blended and

united, Rubens was equally crude. In short, there is no defect that may

not be excused, if it is a sufficient excuse that it can be imputed to

considerable artists; but it must be remembered, that it was not by

these defects they acquired their reputation; they have a right to our

pardon, but not to our admiration.

However, to imitate peculiarities, or mistake defects for beauties,

that man will be most liable who confines his imitation to one

favourite master; and even though he chooses the best, and is capable

of distinguishing the real excellencies of his model, it is not by

such narrow practice that a genius or mastery in the art is acquired.

A man is as little likely to form a true idea of the perfection of the

art by studying a single artist, as he would be to produce a perfectly

beautiful figure, by an exact imitation of any individual living

model. And as the painter, by bringing together in one piece those

beauties which are dispersed among a great variety of individuals,

produces a figure more beautiful than can be found in nature, so that

artist who can unite in himself the excellencies of the various great

painters, will approach nearer to perfection than any one of his

masters. He who confines himself to the imitation of an individual, as

he never proposes to surpass, so he is not likely to equal, the object

of his imitation. He professes only to follow; and he that follows

must necessarily be behind.

We should imitate the conduct of the great artists in the course of

their studies, as well as the works which they produced, when they

were perfectly formed. Raffaelle began by imitating implicitly the

manner of Pietro Perugino, under whom he studied: hence his first

works are scarce to be distinguished from his master's; but soon

forming higher and more extensive views, he imitated the grand outline

of Michel Angelo: he learned the manner of using colours from the

works of Leonardo da Vinci, and Fratre Bartolomeo: to all this he

added the contemplation of all the remains of antiquity that were

within his reach, and employed others to draw for him what was in

Greece and distant places. And it is from his having taken so many

models, that he became himself a model for all succeeding painters;

always imitating, and always original.

If your ambition, therefore, be to equal Raffaelle, you must do as

Raffaelle did, take many models, and not even _him_ for your guide

alone, to the exclusion of others.[4] And yet the number is infinite

of those who seem, if one may judge by their style, to have seen no

other works but those of their master, or of some favourite, whose

_manner_ is their first wish, and their last.

I will mention a few that occur to me of this narrow, confined,

illiberal, unscientific, and servile kind of imitators. Guido was thus

meanly copied by Elizabetta, Sirani, and Simone Cantarini; Poussin, by

Verdier and Cheron; Parmeggiano by Jeronimo Mazzuoli. Paolo Veronese,

and Iacomo Bassan, had for their imitators their brothers and sons.

Pietro da Cortona was followed by Ciro Ferri, and Romanelli; Rubens,

by Jacques Jordaens and Diepenbeke; Guercino, by his own family, the

Gennari. Carlo Maratti was imitated by Giuseppe Chiari, and Pietro de

Pietri; and Rembrandt, by Bramer, Eeckhout, and Flink. All these, to

whom may be added a much longer list of painters, whose works among

the ignorant pass for those of their masters, are justly to be

censured for barrenness and servility.

To oppose to this list a few that have adopted a more liberal style of

imitation;--Pellegrino Tibaldi Rosso and Primaticcio did not coldly

imitate, but caught something of the fire that animates the works of

Michel Angelo. The Caraccis formed their style from Pellegrino

Tibaldi, Correggio, and the Venetian school. Domenichino, Guido,

Lanfranco, Albano, Guercino, Cavidone, Schidone, Tiarini, though it is

sufficiently apparent that they came from the school of the Caraccis,

have yet the appearance of men who extended their views beyond the

model that lay before them, and have shown that they had opinions of

their own, and thought for themselves, after they had made themselves

masters of the general principles of their schools.

Le Suer's first manner resembles very much that of his master Voüet;

but as he soon excelled him, so he differed from him in every part of

the art. Carlo Maratti succeeded better than those I have first named,

and, I think, owes his superiority to the extension of his views;

beside his master Andrea Sacchi, he imitated Raffaelle, Guido, and the

Caraccis. It is true, there is nothing very captivating in Carlo

Maratti; but this proceeded from a want which cannot be completely

supplied; that is, want of strength of parts. In this certainly men

are not equal; and a man can bring home wares only in proportion to

the capital with which he goes to market. Carlo, by diligence, made

the most of what he had; but there was undoubtedly a heaviness about

him, which extended itself, uniformly, to his invention, expression,

his drawing, colouring, and the general effect of his pictures. The

truth is, he never equalled any of his patterns in any one thing, and

he added little of his own.

But we must not rest contented even in this general study of the

moderns; we must trace back the art to its fountain-head; to that

source from whence they drew their principal excellencies, the

monuments of pure antiquity. All the inventions and thoughts of the

ancients, whether conveyed to us in statues, bas-reliefs, intaglios,

cameos, or coins, are to be sought after and carefully studied; the

genius that hovers over these venerable relics may be called the

father of modern art.

From the remains of the works of the ancients the modern arts were

revived, and it is by their means that they must be restored a second

time. However it may mortify our vanity, we must be forced to allow

them our masters: and we may venture to prophesy, that when they shall

cease to be studied, arts will no longer flourish, and we shall again

relapse into barbarism.

The fire of the artist's own genius operating upon these materials

which have been thus diligently collected, will enable him to make new

combinations, perhaps superior to what had ever before been in the

possession of the art; as in the mixture of the variety of metals,

which are said to have been melted and run together at the burning of

Corinth, a new and till then unknown metal was produced, equal in

value to any of those that had contributed to its composition. And

though a curious refiner should come with his crucibles, analyse and

separate its various component parts, yet Corinthian brass would still

hold its rank amongst the most beautiful and valuable of metals.

We have hitherto considered the advantages of imitation as it tends to

form the taste, and as a practice by which a spark of that genius may

be caught which illumines those noble works that ought always to be

present to our thoughts.

We come now to speak of another kind of imitation; the borrowing a

particular thought, an action, attitude, or figure, and transplanting

it into your own work, this will either come under the charge of

plagiarism, or be warrantable, and deserve commendation, according to

the address with which it is performed. There is some difference,

likewise, whether it is upon the ancient or moderns that these

depredations are made. It is generally allowed, that no man need be

ashamed of copying the ancients; their works are considered as a

magazine of common property, always open to the public, whence every

man has a right to take what materials he pleases; and if he has the

art of using them, they are supposed to become to all intents and

purposes his own property. The collection of the thoughts of the

ancients which Raffaelle made with so much trouble, is a proof of his

opinion on this subject. Such collections may be made with much more

ease, by means of an art scarce known in this time; I mean that of

engraving; by which, at an easy rate, every man may now avail himself

of the inventions of antiquity.

It must be acknowledged that the works of the moderns are more the

property of their authors. He who borrows an idea from an ancient, or

even from a modern artist not his contemporary, and so accommodates it

to his own work, that it makes a part of it, with no seam or joining

appearing, can hardly be charged with plagiarism; poets practise this

kind of borrowing, without reserve. But an artist should not be

contented with this only; he should enter into a competition with his

original, and endeavour to improve what he is appropriating to his own

work. Such imitation is so far from having anything in it of the

servility of plagiarism, that it is a perpetual exercise of the mind, a

continual invention. Borrowing or stealing with such art and caution,

will have a right to the same lenity as was used by the Lacedæmonians;

who did not punish theft, but the want of artifice to conceal.

In order to encourage you to imitation, to the utmost extent, let me

add, that very finished artists in the inferior branches of the art

will contribute to furnish the mind and give hints, of which a skilful

painter, who is sensible of what he wants, and is in no danger of

being infected by the contact of vicious models, will know how to

avail himself. He will pick up from dunghills what, by a nice

chemistry, passing through his own mind, shall be converted into pure

gold; and under the rudeness of Gothic essays, he will find original,

rational, and even sublime inventions.

The works of Albert Durer, Lucas Van Leyden, the numerous inventions

of Tobias Stimmer, and Jost Ammon, afford a rich mass of genuine

materials, which, wrought up, and polished to elegance, will add

copiousness to what, perhaps, without such aid, could have aspired

only to justness and propriety.

In the luxuriant style of Paul Veronese, in the capricious

compositions of Tintoret, he will find something that will assist his

invention, and give points, from which his own imagination shall rise

and take flight, when the subject which he treats will with propriety

admit of splendid effects.

In every school, whether Venetian, French, or Dutch, he will find

either ingenious compositions, extraordinary effects, some peculiar

expressions, or some mechanical excellence, well worthy of his

attention, and, in some measure, of his imitation. Even in the lower

class of the French painters, great beauties are often found, united

with great defects. Though Coypel wanted a simplicity of taste, and

mistook a presumptuous and assuming air for what is grand and

majestic; yet he frequently has good sense and judgment in his manner

of telling his stories, great skill in his compositions, and is not

without a considerable power of expressing the passions. The modern

affectation of grace in his works, as well as in those of Bosch and

Watteau, may be said to be separated by a very thin partition from the

more simple and pure grace of Correggio and Parmegiano.

Among the Dutch painters, the correct, firm, and determined pencil,

which was employed by Bamboccio and Jean Miel, on vulgar and mean

subjects, might, without any change, be employed on the highest; to

which, indeed, it seems more properly to belong. The greatest style,

if that style is confined to small figures, such as Poussin generally

painted, would receive an additional grace by the elegance and

precision of pencil so admirable in the works of Teniers; and though

the school to which he belonged more particularly excelled in the

mechanism of painting; yet it produced many, who have shown great

abilities in expressing what must be ranked above mechanical

excellencies. In the works of Frank Hals, the portrait-painter may

observe the composition of a face, the features well put together, as

the painters express it; from whence proceeds that strong-marked

character of individual nature, which is so remarkable in his

portraits, and is not found in an equal degree in any other painter.

If he had joined to this most difficult part of the art a patience in

finishing what he had so correctly planned, he might justly have

claimed the place which Vandyke, all things considered, so justly

holds as the first of portrait-painters.

Others of the same school have shown great power in expressing the

character and passions of those vulgar people which were the subjects

of their study and attention. Among those, Jan Steen seems to be one

of the most diligent and accurate observers of what passed in those

scenes which he frequented, and which were to him an academy. I can

easily imagine, that if this extraordinary man had had the good

fortune to have been born in Italy, instead of Holland; had he lived

in Rome, instead of Leyden; and been blessed with Michel Angelo and

Raffaelle for his masters, instead of Brouwer and Van Goyen; the same

sagacity and penetration which distinguished so accurately the

different characters and expression in his vulgar figures, would,

when exerted in the selection and imitation of what was great and

elevated in nature, have been equally successful; and he now would

have ranged with the great pillars and supporters of our Art.

Men who, although thus bound down by the almost invincible powers of

early habits, have still exerted extraordinary abilities within their

narrow and confined circle; and have, from the natural vigour of their

mind, given a very interesting expression, and great force and energy

to their works; though they cannot be recommended to be exactly

imitated, may yet invite an artist to endeavour to transfer, by a kind

of parody, their excellencies to his own performances. Whoever has

acquired the power of making this use of the Flemish, Venetian, and

French schools, is a real genius, and has sources of knowledge open to

him which were wanting to the great artists who lived in the great age

of painting.

To find excellencies, however dispersed; to discover beauties, however

concealed by the multitude of defects with which they are surrounded,

can be the work only of him, who, having a mind always alive to his

art, has extended his views to all ages and to all schools, and has

acquired from that comprehensive mass which he has thus gathered to

himself--a well-digested and perfect idea of his art, to which

everything is referred. Like a sovereign judge and arbiter of art, he

is possessed of that presiding power which separates and attracts

every excellence from every school; selects both from what is great,

and what is little; brings home knowledge from the East and from the

West; making the universe tributary towards furnishing his mind, and

enriching his works with originality and variety of inventions.

Thus I have ventured to give my opinion of what appears to me the true

and only method by which an artist makes himself master of his

profession; which I hold ought to be one continued course of

imitation, that is not to cease but with his life.

Those, who either from their own engagements and hurry of business, or

from indolence, or from conceit and vanity, have neglected looking out

of themselves, as far as my experience and observation reaches, have

from that time, not only ceased to advance, and improve in their

performances, but have gone backward. They may be compared to men who

have lived upon their principal till they are reduced to beggary, and

left without resources.

I can recommend nothing better, therefore, than that you endeavour to

infuse into your works what you learn from the contemplation of the

works of others. To recommend this has the appearance of needless and

superfluous advice; but it has fallen within my own knowledge, that

artists, though they were not wanting in a sincere love for their art,

though they had great pleasure in seeing good pictures, and were well

skilled to distinguish what was excellent or defective in them, yet

have gone on in their own manner, without any endeavour to give a

little of those beauties, which they admired in others, to their own

works. It is difficult to conceive how the present Italian painters,

who live in the midst of the treasures of art, should be contented

with their own style. They proceed in their commonplace inventions,

and never think it worth while to visit the works of those great

artists with which they are surrounded.

Sir Joshua Reynolds' Discourses Edited, with an Introduction, by Helen Zimmern · 第 8 / 22 段