De Arte Graphica.  
THE Art of Painting, BY C. A. DU FRESNOY. WITH REMARKS.  
Translated into English, Together with an Original Preface containing A PARALLEL betwixt PAINTING and POETRY.  
By Mr. DRYDEN.  
As also a Short Account of the most Eminent PAINTERS, both Ancient and Modern, continued down to the Present Times, according to the Order of their Succession.  
By another Hand.  
Vt Pictura Poesis erit—  Hor. de Arte Poetica. 
LONDON, Printed by I. Heptinstall for W. Rogers, at the Sun against St. Dunstan's Church in Fleetstreet. MDCXCV.   

PREFACE OF THE TRANSLATOR, With a Parallel, Of Poetry and Painting.  
IT may be reasonably expected, that I should say something on my own behalf, in respect to my present Undertaking. First, then, the Reader may be pleased to know, that it was not of my own choice that I undertook this Work. Many of our most Skilful Painters, and other Artists, were pleased to recommend this Author to me, as one who perfectly understood the Rules of Painting; who gave the best and most concise Instructions for Performance, and the surest to inform the Judgement of all who loved this noble Art. That they who before were rather fond of it, than knowingly admired it, might defend their Inclination by their Reason: that they might understand those Excellencies which they blindly valued, so as not to be farther imposed on by bad Pieces, and to know when Nature was well imitated by the most able Masters. 'Tis true indeed, and they acknowledge it, that beside the Rules which are given in this Treatise, or which can be given in any other, that to make a perfect Judgement of good Pictures, and to value them more or less when compared with one another, there is farther required a long conversation with the best Pieces, which are not very frequent either in France or England; yet some we have, not only from the hands of Holbein, Rubens, and Vandyck, (one of them admirable for History-painting, and the other two for Portraits,) but of many Flemish-Masters, and those not inconsiderable, though for Design, not equal to the Italians. And of these latter also, we are not unfurnished with some Pieces of Raphael, Titian, Correggio, Michael Angelo and others. But to return to my own undertaking of this Translation, I freely own, that I thought myself uncapable of performing it, either to their Satisfaction, or my own Credit. Not but that I understood the Original Latin, and the French Author perhaps as well as most Englishmen; But I was not sufficiently versed in the Terms of Art: And therefore thought that many of those persons who put this honourable task on me, were more able to perform it themselves, as undoubtedly they were. But they assuring me of their assistance, in correcting my faults where I spoke improperly, I was encouraged to attempt it; that I might not be wanting in what I could, to satisfy the desires of so many Gentlemen who were willing to give the world this useful Work. They have effectually performed their promise to me; and I have been as careful on my side, to take their advice in all things; so that the Reader may assure himself of a tolerable Translation. Not Elegant, for I proposed not that to myself: but familiar, clear and instructive. In any of which parts, if I have failed, the fault lies wholly at my door. In this one particular only I must beg the Readers pardon. The Prose Translation of the Poem is not free from Poetical Expressions, and I dare not promise that some of them are not fustian, or at least highly metaphorical; but this being a fault in the first digestion (that is, the Original Latin) was not to be remedied in the second (viz.) the Translation. And I may confidently say, that whoever had attempted it, must have fallen into the same inconvenience; or a much greater, that of a false Version. When I undertook this Work, I was already engaged in the Translation of Virgil, from whom I have borrowed only two months, and am now returning to that which I ought to understand better. In the mean time I beg the Readers pardon, for entertaining him so long with myself: 'Tis an usual part of ill manners in all Authors, and almost in all Mankind, to trouble others with their business; and I was so sensible of it beforehand, that I had not now committed it, unless some concernments of the Readers had been interwoven with my own. But I know not, while I am atoning for one Error, if I am not falling into another: for I have been importuned to say something farther of this Art; and to make some Observations on it in relation to the likeness and agreement which it has with Poetry its Sister. But before I proceed, it will not be amiss, if I copy from Bellori (a most ingenious Author, yet living) some part of his Idea of a Painter, which cannot be unpleasing, at least to such who are conversant in the Philosophy of Plato. And to avoid tediousness, I will not translate the whole Discourse, but take and leave as I find occasion.  
God Almighty, in the Fabric of the Universe, first contemplated himself, and reflected on his own Excellencies; from which he drew, and constituted those first Forms, which are called Ideas. So that every Species which was afterwards expressed was produced from that first Idea, forming that wonderful contexture of all created Being's. But the Celestial Bodies above the Moon being incorruptible, and not subject to change, remained for ever fair, and in perpetual order: On the contrary, all things which are sublunary are subject to change, to deformity, and to decay. And though Nature always intends a consummate beauty in her productions, yet through the inequality of the Matter, the Forms are altered; and in particular, Humane Beauty suffers alteration for the worse, as we see to our mortification, in the deformities, and disproportions which are in us. For which reason the Artful Painter and the Sculptour, imitating the Divine Maker, form to themselves as well as they are able, a Model of the Superior Beauties; and reflecting on them endeavour to correct and amend the common Nature; and to represent it as it was first created without fault, either in Colour or in Lineament.  
This Idea, which we may call the Goddess of Painting and of Sculpture, descends upon the Marble and the Cloth, and becomes the Original of those Arts; and being measured by the Compass of the Intellect, is it self the Measure of the performing Hand; and being an●●mated by the Imagination, infuses Life into the Image. The Idea of the Painter and the Sculptour, is undoubtedly that perfect and excellent Example of the Mind; by imitation of which imagined form, all things are represented which fall under humane sight: Such is the Definition which is made by Cicero in his Book of the Orator to Brutus." As therefore in Forms and Figures there is somewhat which is Excellent and Perfect, to which imagined Species all things are referred by Imitation which are the Objects of Sight, in like manner we behold the Species of Eloquence in our Minds, the Effigies, or actual Image of which we seek in the Organs of our Hearing. This is likewise confirmed by Proclus in the Dialogue of Plato called Timaeus: If, says he, you take a Man, as he is made by Nature, and compare him with another who is the effect of Art; the work of Nature will always appear the less beautiful, because Art is more accurate than Nature." But Zeuxis, who from the choice which he made of Five Virgins drew that wonderful Picture of Helena, which Cicero in his Orator beforemention'd, sets before us as the most perfect Example of Beauty, at the same time admonishes a Painter, to contemplate the Ideas of the most Natural Forms; and to make a judicious choice of several Bodies, all of them the most Elegant which he can find. By which we may plainly understand that he thought it impossible to find in any one Body all those Perfections which he sought for the accomplishment of a Helena, because Nature in any individual person makes nothing that is perfect in all its parts. For this reason Maximus Tyrius also says, that the Image which is taken by a Painter from several Bodies produces a Beauty, which it is impossible to find in any single Natural Body, approaching to the perfection of the fairest Statues. Thus Nature on this account is so much inferior to Art, that those Artists who propose to themselves only the imitation and likeness of such or such a particular person, without election of those Ideas beforementioned, have often been reproached for that omission: Demetrius was taxed for being too Natural; Dionysius was also blamed for drawing Men like us, and was commonly called ' 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that is, a Painter of Men. In our times Michael Angelo da Caravaggio, was esteemed too Natural. He drew persons as they were; and Bambovio, and most of the Dutch Painters have drawn the worst likeness. Lysippus of old, upbraided the common sort of Sculptours, for making Men such as they were found in Nature; and boasted of himself that he made them as they ought to be: which is a Precept of Aristotle, given as well to Poets as to Painters. Phidias raised an admiration even to astonishment, in those who beheld his Statues, with the Forms, which he gave to his Gods and Heroes; by imitating the Idea rather than Nature. And Cicero speaking of him affirms, that figuring Jupiter and Pallas, he did not contemplate any Object from whence he took the likeness, but considered in his own mind a great and admirable form of Beauty, and according to that Image in his Soul, he directed the operation of his Hand. Seneca also seems to wonder, that Phidias having never beheld either Jove or Pallas, yet could conceive their divine Images in his Mind. Apollonius Tyanaeus says the same in other words, that the fancy more instructs the Painter than the imitation; for the last makes only the things which it sees, but the first makes also the things which it never sees.  
Leon Battista Alberti tells us, that we ought not so much to love the likeness as the beauty, and to choose from the fairest Bodies severally the fairest Parts. Leonardo damn Vinci instructs the Painter to form this Idea to himself: And Raphael, the greatest of all modern Masters, writes thus to Castiglione, concerning his Galatea:" To paint a Fair one, 'tis necessary for me to see many Fair ones; but because there is so great a scarcity of lovely Women, I am constrained to make use of one certain Idea, which I have formed to myself in my own fancy." Guido Reni sending to Rome his St. Michael which he had painted for the Church of the Capuchins, at the same time wrote to Monsignor Massano, who was Maestro di Casa (or Steward of the House) to Pope Urban the Eighth, in this manner. I wish I had the wings of an Angel, to have ascended into Paradise, and there to have beheld the Forms of those beatifyed Spirits, from which I might have copied my Archangel: But not being able to mount so high, it was in vain for me to search his resemblance here below: so that I was forced to make an Introspection, into my own mind, and into that Idea of Beauty, which I have formed in my own imagination. I have likewise created there the contrary Idea of deformity and ugliness; but I leave the consideration of it, till I paint the Devil: and in the mean time shun the very thought of it as much as possibly I can, and am even endeavouring to blot it wholly out of my remembrance. There was not any Lady in all Antiquity, who was Mistress of so much Beauty as was to be found in the Venus of Gnidus, made by Praxiteles, or the Minerva of Athens by Phydias; which was therefore called the Beautiful Form. Neither is there any Man of the present Age, equal in the strength, proportion, and knitting of his Limbs, to the Hercules of Farnese, made by Glicon: Or any Woman who can justly be compared with the Medicean Venus of Cleomenes. And upon this account, the noblest Poets and the best Orators, when they desired to celebrate any extraordinary Beauty, are forced to have recourse to Statues and Pictures, and to draw their Persons and Faces into Comparison. Ovid endeavouring to express the Beauty of Cillarus, the fairest of the Centaurs, celebrates him as next in perfection, to the most admirable Statues. 
Gratus in ore vigour, cervix, humerique manusque  
Pectoraque Artificum laudatis Proxima Signis.  
A pleasing Vigour his fair Face expressed;  
His Neck, his Hands, his Shoulders, and his Breast,  
Did next in Gracefulness and Beauty stand,  
To breathing Figures of the Sculptour's Hand.   
In another place he sets Apelles above Venus. 
Si Venerem Cois nunquam pinxisset Apelles,  
Mersa sub aequoreis illa lateret Aquis.  Thus varied. 
One Birth to Seas the Cyprian Goddess owed,  
A Second Birth the Painter's Art bestowed:  
Less by the Seas than by his power was given;  
They made her live, but he advanced to Heaven.   
The Idea of this Beauty, is indeed various, according to the several forms which the Painter or Sculptour would describe: As one in Strength, another in Magnanimity; and sometimes it consists in Cheerfulness, and sometimes in Delicacy; and is always diversified by the Sex and Age.  
The Beauty of Jove is one, and that of Juno another: Hercules, and Cupid are perfect Beauties, though of different kinds; for Beauty is only that which makes all things as they are in their proper and perfect Nature; which the best Painters always choose by contemplating the Forms of each. We ought farther to consider, that a Picture being the representation of a humane action, the Painter ought to retain in his mind, the Examples of all Affections, and Passions, as a Poet preserves the Idea of an Angry man, of one who is fearful, sad or merry, and so of all the rest. For 'tis impossible to express that with the Hand, which never entered into the Imagination. In this manner as I have rudely and briefly shown you, Painters and Sculptours, choosing the most elegant natural Beauties, perfectionate the Idea, and advance their Art, even above Nature itself, in her individual productions, which is the utmost mastery of humane performance.  
From hence arises that astonishment, and almost adoration which is paid by the Knowing to those divine remainders of Antiquity. From hence Phydias, Lysippus, and other noble Sculptours, are still held in veneration; and Apelles, Zeuxis, Protogenes, and other admirable Painters, though their Works are perished, are and will be eternally admired; who all of them drew after the Ideas of Perfection; which are the Miracles of Nature, the Providence of the Understanding, the Exemplars of the Mind, the Light of the Fancy; the Sun which from its rising, inspired the Statue of Memnon, and the fire which warmed into life the Image of Prometheus: 'Tis this which causes the Graces, and the Loves to take up their habitations in the hardest Marble, and to subsist in the emptiness of Light, and Shadows. But since the Idea of Eloquence is as far inferior to that of Painting, as the force of Words is to the Sight; I must here break off abruptly, and having conducted the Reader as it were to a secret Walk, there leave him in the midst of Silence to contemplate those Ideas; which I have only sketched, and which every man must finish for himself.  
In these pompous Expressions, or such as these the Italian has given you his Idea of a Painter; and though I cannot much commend the Style, I must needs say there is somewhat in the Matter: Plato himself is accustomed to write loftily, imitating, as the Critics tell us, the manner of Homer; but surely that inimitable Poet, had not so much of Smoke in his writing, though not less of Fire. But in short, this is the present Genius of Italy. What Philostratus tells us in the Proem of his Figures is somewhat plainer; and therefore I will translate it almost word for word." He who will rightly govern the Art of Painting, aught of necessity first to understand Humane Nature. He ought likewise to be endued with a Genius to express the signs of their Passions whom he represents; and to make the dumb as it were to speak: He must yet further understand what is contained in the constitution of the Cheeks, in the temperament of the Eyes, in the naturalness (if I may so call it) of the Eyebrows: and in short whatsoever belongs to the Mind and Thought. He who throughly possesses all these things will obtain the whole. And the Hand will tightly represent the action of every particular person. If it happen that he be either mad, or angry, melancholic, or cheerful, a sprightly Youth, or a languishing Lover; in one word, he will be able to paint whatsoever is proportionable to any one. And even in all this there is a sweet error without causing any shame. For the Eyes and Minds of the beholders being fastened on Objects which have no real Being, as if they were truly Existent, and being induced by them to believe them so, what pleasure is it not capable of giving? The Ancients, and other Wise Men, have written many things concerning the Symmetry which is in the Art of Painting; constituting as it were some certain Laws for the proportion of every Member, not thinking it possible for a Painter to undertake the expression of those motions which are in the Mind, without a concurrent Harmony in the natural measure. For that which is out of its own kind and measure, is not received from Nature, whose motion is always right. On a serious consideration of this matter it will be found, That the Art of Painting has a wonderful affinity with that of Poetry; and that there is betwixt them a certain common Imagination. For as the Poet's introduc●● the Gods and Heroes, and all those things which are either Majestical, Honest or Delightful, in like manner the Painters, by the virtue of their Out-lines, Colours, Lights and Shadows, represent the same Things and Persons in their Pictures."  
Thus, as Convoy Ships either accompany, or should accompany their Merchants till they may prosecute the rest of their Voyage without danger, so Philostratus has brought me thus far on my way, and I can now sail on without him. He has begun to speak of the great relation betwixt Painting and Poetry, and thither the greatest part of this Discourse by my promise was directed. I have not engaged myself to any perfect Method, neither am I loaded with a full Cargo. 'Tis sufficient if I bring a Sample of some Goods in this Voyage. It will be easy for others to add more when the Commerce is settled. For a Treatise twice as large as this of Painting could not contain all that might be said on the Parallel of these two Sister Arts. I will take my rise from Bellori before I proceed to the Author of this Book.  
The business of his Preface is to prove, that a learned Painter should form to himself an Idea of perfect Nature. This Image he is to set before his Mind in all his Undertake, and to draw from thence as from a Storehouse, the Beauties which are to enter into his Work; thereby correcting Nature from what actually she is in individuals, to what she ought to be, and what she was created. Now as this Idea of Perfection is of little use in Portraits (or the resemblances of particular persons) so neither is it in the Characters of Comedy, and Tragedy; which are never to be made perfect, but always to be drawn with some specks of frailty and deficience; such as they have been described to us in History, if they were real Characters; or such as the Poet began to show them at their first appearance, if they were only fictitious, (or imaginary.) The perfection of such Stage-characters consists chiefly in their likeness to the deficient faulty Nature, which is their Original. Only, as it is observed more at large hereafter, in such cases●● there will always be found a better likeness, and a worse; and the better is constantly to be chosen: I mean in Tragedy, which represents the Figures of the highest form amongst Mankind. Thus in Portraits, the Painter will not take that side of the Face which has some notorious blemish in it; but either draw it in profile (as Apelles did Antigonus, who had lost one of his Eyes) or else shadow the more imperfect side. For an ingenious flattery is to be allowed to the Professors of both Arts; so long as the likeness is not destroyed. 'Tis true that all manner of Imperfections must not be taken away from the Characters, and the reason is, that there may be left some grounds of pity for their misfortunes. We can never be grieved for their miseries who are thoroughly wicked, and have thereby justly called their calamities on themselves. Such Men are the natural Objects of our hatred, not of our commiseration. If on the other side their Characters were wholly perfect, (such as for Example, the Character of a Saint or Martyr in a Play,) his, or her misfortunes, would produce impious thoughts in the Beholders: they would accuse the Heavens of injustice, and think of leaving a Religion, where Piety was so ill requited. I say the greater part would be tempted so to do, I say not that they ought: and the consequence is too dangerous for the practice. In this I have accused myself for my own St. Catharine, but let truth prevail. Sophocles has taken the just medium in his Oedipus. He is somewhat arrogant at his first entrance; and is too inquisitive through the whole Tragedy: Yet these Imperfections being balanced by great Virtues, they hinder not our compassion for his miseries; neither yet can they destroy that horror which the nature of his Crimes have excited in us. Such in Painting are the Warts and Moles, which adding a likeness to the Face, are not therefore to be omitted. But these produce no loathing in us. But how far to proceed, and where to stop, is left to the judgement of the Poet and the Painter. In Comedy there is somewhat more of the worse likeness to be taken. Because that is often to produce laughter; which is occasioned by the sight of some deformity: but for this I refer the Reader to Aristotle. 'Tis a sharp manner of Instruction for the Vulgar who are never well amended, till they are more than sufficiently exposed. That I may return to the beginning of this Remark, concerning perfect Ideas, I have only this to say, that the Parallel is often true in Epique-Poetry.  
The Heroes of the Poets are to be drawn according to this Rule. There is scarce a frailty to be left in the best of them; any more than is to be found in a Divine Nature. And if Aeneas sometimes weeps, it is not in bemoaning his own miseries, but those which his people undergo. If this be an Imperfection, the Son of God when he was incarnate shed tears of Compassion over jerusalem. And Lentulus describes him often weeping, but never laughing; so that Virgil is justified even from the Holy Scriptures. I have but one word more, which for once I will anticipate from the Author of this Book. Though it must be an Idea of Perfection, from which both the Epique Poet, and the History Painter draws; yet all Perfections are not suitable to all Subjects: But every one must be designed according to that perfect Beauty which is proper to him. An Apollo must be distinguished from a jupiter, a Pallas from a Venus: and so in Poetry an Aeneas from any other Hero: for Piety is his chief Perfection. Homer's Achilles is a kind of Exception to this Rule: but then he is not a perfect Hero, nor so intended by the Poet. All his Gods had somewhat of humane imperfection; for which he has been taxed by Plato, as an Imitator of what was bad. But Virgil observed his fault, and mended it. Yet Achilles was perfect in the strength of his Body, and the vigour of his Mind. Had he been less passionate, or less revengeful, the Poet well foresaw that Hector had been killed, and Troy taken at the first assault; which had destroyed the beautiful contrivance of his Iliads, and the moral of preventing Discord amongst Confederate Princes, which was his principal intention. For the Moral (as Bossu observes) is the first business of the Poet, as being the groundwork of his Instruction. This being formed, he contrives such a Design, or Fable, as may be most suitable to the Moral. After this he begins to think of the Persons, whom he is to employ in carrying on his Design: and gives them the Manners, which are most proper to their several Characters. The thoughts and words are the last parts, which give Beauty and Colouring to the Piece. When I say, that the Manners of the Hero ought to be good in perfection, I contradict not the Marquis of Normanby's opinion, in that admirable Verse, where speaking of a perfect Character, he calls it A Faultless Monster, which the World ne'er knew. For that Excellent Critic, intended only to speak of Dramatic Characters, and not of Epique. Thus at lea●●t I have shown, that in the most perfect Poem, which is that of Virgil, a perfect Idea was required, and followed. And consequently that all succeeding Poets ought rather to imitate him, than even Homer. I will now proceed as I promised, to the Author of this Book. He tells you almost in the first lines of it, that the chief end of Painting is to please the Eyes: and 'tis one great End of Poetry to please the Mind. Thus far the Parallel of the Arts holds true: with this difference, That the Principal end of Painting is to please; and the chief design of Poetry is to instruct. In this the latter seems to have the advantage of the former. But if we consider the Artists themselves on both sides, certainly their aims are the very same: they would both make sure of pleasing, and that in preference to instruction. Next, the means of this pleasure is by Deceit. One imposes on the Sight, and the other on the Understanding. Fiction is of the Essence of Poetry as well as of Painting; there is a resemblance in one, of Humane Bodies, Things and Actions which are not real, and in the other, of a true Story by a Fiction. And as all Stories are not proper Subjects for an Epique Poem, or a Tragedy, so neither are they for a noble Picture. The Subjects both of the one, and of the other, aught to have nothing of immoral, low, or filthy in them; but this being treated at large in the Book itself, I wave it to avoid repetition. Only I must add, that though●● Catullus, Ovid and others were of another opinion, that the Subject of Poets, and even their thoughts and expressions might be loose, provided their lives were chaste and holy, yet there are no such licences permitted in that Art any more than in Painting, to design and colour obscene Nudities. Vita proba est, is no excuse, for it will scarcely be admitted, that either a Poet or a Painter can be chaste, who give us the contrary examples in their Writings and their Pictures. We see nothing of this kind in Virgil: that which comes the nearest to it, is the adventure of the Cave, where Dido and Aeneas were driven by the Storm: Yet even there the Poet pretends a Marriage before the Consummation; and juno herself was present at it. Neither is there any expression in that Story, which a Roman Matron might not read without a blush. Besides the Poet passes it over as hastily as he can, as if he were afraid of staying in the Cave with the two Lovers, and of being a witness to their Actions. Now I suppose that a Painter would not be much commended, who should pick out this Cavern from the whole Eneids, when there is not another in the Work. He had better leave them in their obscurity, than let in a flash of Lightning to clear the natural darkness of the place, by which he must discover himself as much as them. The Altar-Pieces, and holy Decorations of Painting, show that Art may be applied to better uses, as well as Poetry.  
And amongst many other instances, the Farnesian Gallery, painted by Hannibal Carracci, is a sufficient witness yet remaining: the whole Work being morally instructive, and particularly the Herculis Bivium, which is a perfect Triumph of Virtue over Vice, as it is wonderfully well described by the ingenious Bellori.  
Hitherto I have only told the Reader what ought not to be the subject of a Picture or of a Poem: what it ought to be on either side; our Author tells us: it must in general be great and noble: and in this, the Parallel is exactly true. The subject of a Poet either in Tragedy or in an Epique Poem is a great action of some illustrious Hero. 'Tis the same in Painting; not every action, nor every person is considerable enough to enter into the Cloth. It must be the Anger of an Achilles, the Piety of an Aeneas, the Sacrifice of an Iphigenia (for Heroines as well as Heroes are comprehended in the Rule;) but the Parallel is more complete in Tragedy, than in an Epique Poem. For as a Tragedy may be made out of many particular Episodes of Homer or of Virgil, so may a noble Picture be designed out of this or that particular Story in either Author. History is also fruitful of designs both for the Painter and the Tragic Poet: Curtius throwing himself into a Gulf, and the two Decii sacrificing themselves for the safety of their Country, are subjects for Tragedy and Picture. Such is Scipio restoring the Spanish Bride, whom he either loved or may be supsosed to love, by which he gained the Hearts of a great Nation, to interess themselves for Rome against Carthage: These are all but particular Pieces in Livy's History; and yet are full complete Subjects for the Pen and Pencil. Now the reason of this is evident. Tragedy and Picture are more narrowly circumscribed by the Mechanic Rules of Time and Place than the Epique Poem. The time of this last is left indefinite. 'Tis true, Homer took up only the space of eight and forty days for his Iliads; but whether Virgil's action was comprehended in a year or somewhat more, is not determined by Bossu. Homer made the place of his action Troy, and the Grecian Camp besieging it. Virgil introduces his Aeneas, sometimes in Sicily, sometimes in Carthage, and other times at Cumae, before he brings him to Laurentum; and even after that, he wanders again to the Kingdom of Evander and some parts of Tuscany, before he returns to finish the War by the death of Turnus. But Tragedy according to the Practice of the Ancients, was always confined within the compass of 24 hours, and seldom takes up so much time. As for the place of it, it was always one, and that not in a larger Sense; as for example, A whole City or two or three several Houses in it; but the Market or some other public place, common to the Chorus and all the Actors. Which established Law of theirs, I have not an opportunity to examine in this place, because I cannot do it without digression from my subject, though it seems too strict at the first appearance because it excludes all secret Intrigues, which are the Beauties of the modern Stage: for nothing can be carried on with Privacy, when the Chorus is supposed to be always present. But to proceed, I must say this to the advantage of Painting, even above Tragedy, that what this last represents in the space of many Hours, the former shows us in one Moment. The Action, the Passion, and the manners of so many Persons as are contained in a Picture, are to be discerned at once, in the twinkling of an Eye; at least they would be so, if the Sight could travel over so many different Objects all at once, or the Mind could digest them all at the same instant or point of time. Thus in the famous Picture of Poussin, which represents the Institution of the Blessed Sacrament, you see our Saviour and his twelve Disciples, all concurring in the same action, after different manners, and in different postures, only the manners of judas are distinguished from the rest. Here is but one indivisible point of time observed: but one action performed by so many Persons, in one Room and at the same Table: yet the Eye cannot comprehend at once the whole Object, nor the Mind follow it so fast; 'tis considered at leisure, and seen by intervals. Such are the Subjects of Noble Pictures: and such are only to be undertaken by Noble Hands. There are other parts of Nature, which are meaner, and yet are the Subjects both of Painters, and of Poets.  
For to proceed in the Parallel, as Comedy is a representation of Humane Life, in inferior persons, and low Subjects, and by that means creeps into the nature of Poetry, and is a kind of juniper, a Shrub belonging to the species of Cedar, so is the painting of Clowns, the representation of a Dutch Kermis, the brutal sport of Snick or Snee, and a thousand other things of this mean invention, a kind of Picture, which belongs to Nature, but of the lowest form. Such is a Lazar in comparison to a Venus; both are drawn in Humane Figures: they have Faces alike, though not like Faces. There is yet a lower sort of Poetry and Painting, which is out of Nature. For a Farce is that in Poetry, which Grotesque is in a Picture. The Persons, and Action of a Farce are all unnatural, and the Manners false, that is, inconsisting with the characters of Mankind. Grotesque-painting is the just resemblance of this; and Horace begins his Art of Poetry by describing such a Figure; with a Man's Head, a Horse's Neck, the Wings of a Bird, and a Fish's Tail; parts of different species jumbled together, according to the mad imagination of the Dauber; and the end of all this, as he tells you afterward, to cause Laughter. A very Monster in a Bartholomew-Fair for the Mob to gape at for their twopences. Laughter is indeed the propriety of a Man, but just enough to distinguish him from his elder Brother, with four Legs. 'Tis a kind of Bastard-pleasure too, taken in at the Eyes of the vulgar gazers, and at the Ears of the beastly Audience. Church-Painters use it to divert the honest Countryman at Public Prayers, and keep his Eyes open at a heavy Sermon. And Farce-Scriblers make use of the same noble invention to entertain Citizens, Country-Gentlemen, and Covent-Garden Fops. If they are merry, all goes well on the Poet's side. The better sort go thither too, but in despair of Sense, and the just Images of Nature, which are the adequate pleasures of the Mind. But the Author can give the Stage no better than what was given him by Nature: and the Actors must represent such things, as they are capable to perform, and by which both they and the Scribbler may get their living. After all, 'tis a good thing to laugh at any rate, and if a straw can tickle a man, 'tis an instrument of happiness. Beasts can weep when they suffer, but they cannot laugh. And as Sir William Davenant observes in his Preface to Gondibert, 'Tis the wisdom of a Government to permit Plays (he might have added Farces) as 'tis the prudence of a Carter to put Bells upon his Horses, to make them carry their Burdens cheerfully.  
I have already shown, that one main end of Poetry and Painting is to please, and have said something of the kinds of both, and of their Subjects, in which they bear a great resemblance to each other. I must now consider them, as they are great and noble Arts; and as they are Arts, they must have Rules which may direct them to their common end.  
To all Arts and Sciences, but more particularly to these may be applied what Hypocrates says of Physic, as I find him cited by an eminent French Critic. " Medicine has long subsisted in the World. The Principles of it are certain, and it has a certain way; by both which there has been found in the course of many Ages, an infinite number of things, the experience of which has confirmed its usefulness and goodness. All that is wanting to the perfection of this Art, will undoubtedly be found, if able Men, and such as are instructed in the Ancient Rules will make a farther enquiry into it, and endeavour to arrive at that, which is hitherto unknown, by that which is already known. But all, who having rejected the Ancient Rules, and taken the opposite ways, yet boast themselves to be Masters of this Art, do but deceive others, and are themselves deceived; for that is absolutely impossible."  
This is notoriously true in these two Arts: for the way to please being to imitate Nature; both the Poets and the Painters, in Ancient times, and in the best Ages, have studied her: and from the practice of both these Arts, the Rules have been drawn, by which we are instructed how to please, and to compass that end which they obtained, by following their Example. For Nature is still the same in all Ages, and can never be contrary to herself. Thus from the practice of Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, Aristotle drew his Rules for Tragedy; and Philostratus for Painting. Thus amongst the Moderns, the Italian and French Critics by studying the Precepts of Aristotle, and Horace, and having the Example of the Grecian Poets before their Eyes, have given us the Rules of Modern Tragedy: and thus the Critics of the same Countries, in the Art of Painting have given the Precepts of perfecting that Art. 'Tis true that Poetry has one advantage over Painting in these last Ages, that we have still the remaining Examples both of the Greek and Latin Poets: whereas the Painters have nothing left them from Apelles, Protogenes, Parrhasius, Xeuxis and the rest, but only the testimonies which are given of their incomparable Works. But instead of this, they have some of their best Statues, Bass-Relievo's, Columns, Obilisques, etc. which were saved out of the common ruin, and are still preserved in Italy: and by well distinguishing what is proper to Sculpture, and what to Painting, and what is common to them both, they have judiciously repaired that loss. And the great Genius of Raphael, and others, having succeeded to the times of Barbarism and Ignorance, the knowledge of Painting is now arrived to a supreme perfection, though the performance of it is much declined in the present Age. The greatest Age for Poetry amongst the Romans was certainly that of Augustus Caesar; and yet we are told that Painting was then at its lowest Ebb, and perhaps Sculpture was also declining at the same time. In the Reign of Domitian, and some who succeeded him, Poetry was but meanly cultivated, but Painting eminently flourished. I am not here to give the History of the two Arts; how they were both in a manner extinguished, by the Irruption of the barbarous Nations, and both restored about the times of Leo the Tenth, Charles the Fifth, and Francis the First; though I might observe, that neither Ariosto, nor any of his Contemporary Poets ever arrived at the Excellency of Raphael, Titian, and the rest in Painting. But in revenge at this time, or lately in many Countries, Poetry is better practised than her Sister-Art. To what height the Magnificence and Encouragement of the present King of France may carry Painting and Sculpture is uncertain, but by what he has done, before the War in which he is engaged, we may expect what he will do after the happy Conclusion of a Peace, which is the Prayer and Wish of all those who have not an interest to prolong the miseries of Europe. For'tis most certain, as our Author amongst others has observed, That Reward is the Spur of Virtue, as well in all good Arts, as in all laudable Attempts: and Emulation which is the other Spur, will never be wanting either amongst Poets or Painters, when particular Rewards and Prizes are proposed to the best deservers. But to return from this digression, though it was almost necessary; all the Rules of Painting are methodically, concisely, and yet clearly delivered in this present Treatise which I have translated. Bossu has not given more exact Rules for the Epique Poem, nor Dacier for Tragedy in his late excellent Translation of Aristotle and his notes upon him, than our Fresnoy has made for Painting; with the Parallel of which I must resume my Discourse, following my Author's Text, though with more brevity than I intended, because Virgil calls me. The principal and most important parts of Painting, is to know what is most beautiful in Nature, and most proper for that Art: that which is the most beautiful is the most noble Subject: so in Poetry, Tragedy is more beautiful than Comedy; because, as I said, the Persons are greater whom the Poet instructs, and consequently the instructions of more benefit to Mankind: the action is likewise greater and more noble, and thence is derived the greater and more noble Pleasure.  
To imitate Nature well in whatsoever Subject, is the perfection of both Arts; and that Picture and that Poem which comes nearest to the resemblance of Nature is the best. But it follows not, that what pleases most in either kind is therefore good; but what ought to please. Our depraved Appetites, and ignorance of the Arts, misled our Judgements, and cause us often to take that for true imitation of Nature, which has no resemblance of Nature in it. To inform our Judgements, and to reform our Tastes, Rules were invented, that by them we might discern when Nature was imitated, and how nearly. I have been forced to recapitulate these things, because Mankind is not more liable to deceit, than it is willing to continue in a pleasing error strengthened by a long habitude. The imitation of nature is therefore justly constituted as the general, and indeed the only Rule of pleasing both in Poetry and Painting. Aristotle tells us, that imitation pleases, because it affords matter for a Reasoner to inquire into the truth or falsehood of Imitation, by comparing its likeness or unlikeness with the Original. But by this Rule, every Speculation in Nature, whose truth falls under the enquiry of a Philosopher, must produce the same delight which is not true; I should rather assign another reason. Truth is the Object of our Understanding as Good is of our Will: And the Understanding can no more be delighted with a Lie, than the Will can choose an apparent Evil. As Truth is the end of all our Speculations, so the discovery of it is the pleasure of them. And since a true knowledge of Nature gives us pleasure, a lively imitation of it, either in Poetry or Painting, must of necessity produce a much greater. For both these Arts as I said before, are not only true imitations of Nature, but of the best Nature, of that which is wrought up to a nobler pitch. They present us with Images more perfect than the Life in any individual: and we have the pleasure to see all the scattered Beauties of Nature united by a happy Chemistry, without its deformities or faults. They are imitations of the passions which always move, and therefore consequently please: for without motion there can be no delight; which cannot be considered, but as an active passion. When we view these Elevated Ideas of Nature, the result of that view is Admiration, which is always the cause of Pleasure.  
This foregoing Remark, which gives the reason why imitation pleases; was sent me by Mr. Walter Moyle, a most ingenious young Gentleman, conversant in all the Studies of Humanity, much above his years. He had also furnished me (according to my request) with all the particular passages in Aristotle and Horace, which are used by them to explain the Art of Poetry by that of Painting: which if ever I have time to retouch this Essay, shall be inserted in their places. Having thus shown that Imitation pleases, and why it pleases in both these Arts, it follows that some Rules of Imitation are necessary to obtain the end: for without Rules there can be no Art; any more than there can be a House without a Door to conduct you into it. The principal parts of Painting and Poetry next follow.  
Invention is the first part, and absolutely necessary to them both: yet no Rule ever was or ever can be given how to compass it. A happy Genius is the gift of Nature: it depends on the influence of the Stars say the Astrologers, on the Organs of the Body say the Naturalists; 'tis the particular gift of Heaven say the Divines, both Christians and Heathens. How to improve it many Books can teach us; how to obtain in none; that nothing can be done without it all agree. Tu nibil invitâ dices faciesve Mineruâ. Without Invention a Painter is but a Copier, and a Poet but a Plagiary of others. Both are allowed sometimes to copy and translate; but as our Author tells you that is not the best part of their Reputation. Imitators are but a Servile kind of Cattle, says the Poet; or at best, the Keepers of Cattle for other men; they have nothing which is properly their own; that is a sufficient mortification for me while I am translating Virgil. But to copy the best Author is a kind of praise, if I perform it as I ought. As a Copy after Raphael is more to be commended, than an Original of any indifferent Painter.  
Under this head of Invention is placed the Disposition of the Work, to put all things in a beautiful order and harmony; that the whole may be of a piece. The Compositions of the Painter should be conformable to the Text of Ancient Authors, to the Customs, and the Times. And this is exactly the same in Poetry; Homer, and Virgil, are to be our guides in the Epique; Sophocles, and Euripides, in Tragedy: in all things we are to imitate the Customs, and the Times of those Persons and Things which we represent. Not to make new Rules of the Drama, as Lopez de Vega has attempted unsuccessfully to do; but to be content to follow our Masters, who understood Nature better than we. But if the Story which we treat be modern, we are to vary the Customs, according to the Time and the Country where the Scene of Action lies: for this is still to imitate Nature, which is always the same, though in a different dress.  
As in the Composition of a Picture, the Painter is to take care that nothing enter into it, which is not proper, or convenient to the Subject; so likewise is the Poet to reject all incidents which are foreign to his Poem, and are naturally no parts of it: they are Wenns, and other Excrescences, which belong not to the Body, but deform it. no person, no incident in the Piece, or in the Play, but must be of use to carry on the main Design. All things else are like six fingers to the hand; when Nature which is superfluous in nothing, can do her work with five. A Painter must reject all trifling Ornaments, so must a Poet refuse all tedious, and unnecessary Descriptions. A Robe which is too heavy, is less an Ornament than a Burden.  
In Poetry Horace calls these things, Versus inopes rerum, nugaeque canorae; these are also the lucus & ara Dianae, which he mentions in the same Art of Poetry. But since there must be Ornaments both in Painting and Poetry, if they are not necessary, they must at least be decent: that is, in their due place, and but moderately used. The Painter is not to take so much pains about the Drapery as about the Face, where the principal resemblance lies: neither is the Poet who is working up a passion, to make similes which will certainly make it languish. My Montezuma dies with a fine one in his mouth: but it is ambitious and out of season. When there are more Figures in a Picture than are necessary, or at least ornamental, our Author calls them Figures to be let: because the Picture has no use of them. So I have seen in some modern Plays above twenty Actors; when the Action has not required half the number. In the principal Figures of a Picture, the Painter is to employ the sinews of his Art, for in them consists the principal beauty of his Work. Our Author saves me the comparison with Tragedy, for he says that herein he is to imitate the Tragic Poet, who employs his utmost force in those places wherein consists the height and beauty of the Action. Du Fresnoy, whom I follow, makes Design or Drawing the second part of Painting: But the Rules which he gives concerning the Posture of the Figures, are almost wholly proper to that Art; and admit not any comparison that I know with Poetry. The Posture of a Poetic Figure is as I conceive, the Description of his Heroes in the performance of such or such an Action: as of Achilles' just in the act of kill Hector: or of Aeneas who has Turnus under him. Both the Poet and the Painter vary the Postures according to the Action, or Passion which they represent of the same person. But all must be great and graceful in them. The same Aeneas must be drawn a Suppliant to Dido with respect in his Gestures, and humility in his Eyes: But when he is forced in his own defence to kill Lausus, the Poet shows him compassionate, and tempering the severity of his looks with a reluctance to the Action, which he is going to perform. He has pity on his Beauty, and his Youth; and is loath to destroy such a Masterpiece of Nature. He considers Lausus rescuing his Father at the hazard of his own life; as an Image of himself when he took Anchises on his Shoulders, and bore him safe through the rage of the Fire, and the opposition of his Enemies. And therefore in the posture of a retiring Man, who avoids the Combat, he stretches out his Arm in sign of peace, with his right Foot drawn a little back, and his Breast bending inward, more like an Orator than a Soldier; and seems to dissuade the Young man from pulling on his destiny, by attempting more than he was able to perform: take the passage as I have thus translated it. 
Shouts of Applause ran ringing through the Field,  
To see the Son, the vanquished Father shield:  
All, fired with noble Emulation, strive;  
And with a storm of Darts to distance drive  
The Trojan Chief; who held at Bay, from far  
On his Vulcanian Orb, sustained the War.  
Aeneas thus'o erwhelmed on every side,  
Their first Assault undaunted did abide;  
And thus to Lausus, loud with friendly threatening cried,  
Why wilt thou rush to certain death, and rage  
In rash attempts beyond thy tender Age,  
Betrayed by pious love?  And afterwards. 
He grieved, he wept, the Sight an Image brought  
Of his own Filial Love; a sadly pleasing thought.  But beside the Outlines of the Posture, the Design of the Picture comprehends in the next place the forms of Faces which are to be different: and so in a Poem, or a Play, must the several Characters of the Persons be distinguished from each other. I knew a Poet, whom out of respect I will not name, who being too witty himself, could draw nothing but Wits in a Comedy of his: even his Fools were infected with the Disease of their Author. They overflowed with smart Reperties, and were only distinguished from the intended Wits by being called Coxcombs; though they deserved not so scandalous a Name. Another, who had a great Genius for Tragedy, following the fury of his natural temper, made every Man and Woman too in his Plays stark raging mad: there was not a sober person to be had for love or money. All was tempestuous and blustering; Heaven and Earth were coming together at every word; a mere Hurrican from the beginning to the end, and every Actor seemed to be hastening on the Day of Judgement.  
Let every Member be made for its own Head, says our Author, not a withered Hand to a young Face. So in the Persons of a Play, whatsoever is said or done by any of them, must be consistent with the manners which the Poet has given them distinctly: and even the Habits must be proper to the degrees, and humours of the Persons as well as in a Picture. He who entered in the first Act, a Young man like Pericles' Prince of Tyre, must not be in danger in the fifth Act, of committing Incest with his Daughter: nor an Usurer, without great probability and causes of Repentance, be turned into a Cutting Moorecraft.  
I am not satisfied that the comparison betwixt the two Arts in the last Paragraph is altogether so just as it might have been; but I am sure of this which follows.  
The principal Figure of the Subject must appear in the midst of the Picture, under the principal Light to distinguish it from the rest which are only its attendants. Thus in a Tragedy or an Epique Poem, the Hero of the Piece must be advanced foremost to the view of the Reader or Spectator; He must outshine the rest of all the Characters; He must appear the Prince of them, like the Sun in the Copernican System, encompassed with the less noble Planets. Because the Hero is the Centre of the main Action; all the Lines from the Circumference tend to him alone: He is the chief object of Pity in the Drama, and of Admiration in the Epique Poem.  
As in a Picture, besides the principal Figures which compose it, and are placed in the midst of it, there are less Grouppes or Knots of Figures disposed at proper distances, which are parts of the Piece, and seem to carry on the same Design in a more inferior manner. So in Epique Poetry, there are Episodes, and a Chorus in Tragedy, which are Members of the Action, as growing out of it, not inserted into it. Such in the ninth Book of the Eneids is the Episode of Nisus and Euryalus: the adventure belongs to them alone; they alone are the Objects of Compassion and Admiration; but their business which they carry on, is the general Concernment of the Trojan Camp, then beleaguered by Turnus and the Latins, as the Christians were lately by the Turks. They were to advertise the chief Hero of the Distresses of his Subjects occasioned by his Absence, to crave his Succour, and solicit him to hasten his Return.  
The Grecian Tragedy was at first nothing but a Chorus of Singers, afterwards one Actor was introduced, which was the Poet himself, who entertained the people with a discourse in Verse, betwixt the Pauses of the Singing. This succeeding with the People, more Actors were added to make the variety the greater; and in process of time, the Chorus only sung betwixt the Acts; and the Coriphaeus, or Chief of them spoke for the rest, as an Actor concerned in the business of the Play.  
Thus Tragedy was perfected by degrees, and being arrived at that Perfection, the Painters might probably take the hint from thence, of adding Grouppes to their Pictures. But as a good Picture may be without a Grouppe; so a good Tragedy may subsist without a Chorus: notwithstanding any reasons which have been given by Dacier to the contrary.  
Monsieur Racine has indeed used it in his Esther, but not that he found any necessity of it, as the French Critic would insinuate. The Chorus at St. Cyr, was only to give the young Ladies an occasion of entertaining the King with vocal Music, and of commending their own Voices. The Play itself was never intended for the public Stage, nor without disparagement to the learned Author, could possibly have succeeded there, and much less the Translation of it here. Mr. Wicherly, when we read it together was of my opinion in this, or rather I of his; for it becomes me so to speak of so excellent a Poet, and so great a judge. But since I am in this place, as Virgil says, Spatiis exclusus iniquis; that is, shortened in my time, I will give no other reason, than that it is impracticable on our Stage. A new Theatre much more ample and much deeper must be made for that purpose, besides the cost of sometimes forty or fifty Habits, which is an expense too large, to be supplied by a Company of Actors. 'Tis true, I should not be sorry to see a Chorus on a Theatre, more than as large and as deep again as ours, built and adorned at a King's Charges, and on that condition, and another, which is, That my Hands were not bound behind me, as now they are; I should not despair of making such a Tragedy, as might be both instructive and delightful, according to the manner of the Grecians.  
To make a Sketch, or a more perfect Model of a Picture, is in the Language of Poets, to draw up the Scenary of a Play, and the reason is the same for both; to guide the Undertaking, and to preserve the Remembrance of such things, whose Natures are difficult to retain.  
To avoid Absurdities and Incongruities, is the same Law established for both Arts. The Painter is not to paint a Cloud at the Bottom of a Picture, but in the uppermost parts: nor the Poet to place what is proper to the end or middle in the beginning of a Poem. I might enlarge on this, but there are few Poets or Painters, who can be supposed to sin so grossly against the Laws of Nature, and of Art. I remember only one Play, and for once I will call it by its name, The Slighted Maid: where there is nothing in the First Act, but what might have been said or done in the Fifth; nor any thing in the Midst, which might not have been placed as well in the Beginning or the End. To express the Passions which are seated in the Heart by outward Signs, is one great Precept of the Painters, and very difficult to perform. In Poetry, the same Passions and Motions of the Mind are to be expressed; and in this consists the principal Difficulty, as well as the Excellency of that Art. This, says my Author, is the Gift of jupiter: and to speak in the same Heathen Language, we call it the Gift of our Apollo: not to be obtained by Pains or Study, if we are not born to it. For the Motions which are studied are never so natural, as those which break out in the height of a real Passion. Mr. Otway possessed this part as thoroughly as any of the Ancients or Moderns. I will not defend every thing in his Venice preserved; but I must bear this testimony to his Memory, That the Passions are truly touched in it, though perhaps there is somewhat to be desired both in the Grounds of them, and in the Height and Elegance of Expression; but Nature is there which is the greatest Beauty.  
In the Passions, says our Author, we must have a very great regard to the quality of the Persons who are actually possessed with them. The Joy of a Monarch for the news of a Victory, must not be expressed like the Ecstasy of a Harlequin on the Receipt of a Letter from his Mistress; this is so much the same in both the Arts, that it is no longer a Comparison. What he says of Face-painting, or the Protrait of any one particular Person; concerning the likeness is also as applicable to Poetry. In the character of an Hero, as well as in an inferior Figure, there is a better or worse likeness to be taken; the better is a Panegyric if it be not false, and the worse is a Libel: Sophocles. says Aristotle always drew men as they ought to be, that is better than they were; another, whose name I have forgotten, drew them worse than naturally they were. Euripides altered nothing in the Character, but made them such as they were represented by History, Epique Poetry or Tradition. Of the three, the draught of Sophocles is most commended by Aristotle. I have followed it in that part of Oedipus, which I writ, though perhaps I have made him too good a man. But my Characters of Anthony and Cleopatra, though they are favourable to them, have nothing of outrageous Panegyric, their Passions were their own, and such as were given them by History, only the deformities of them were cast into Shadows, that they might be Objects of Compassion; whereas if I had chosen a Noonday Light for them, somewhat must have been discovered, which would rather have moved our Hatred than our Pity.  
The Gothique manner, and the barbarous Ornaments, which are to be avoided in a Picture, are just the same with those in an ill ordered Play. For example, our English Tragicomedy must be confessed to be wholly Gothique, notwithstanding the Success which it has found upon our Theatre, and in the Pastor Fido of Guarini; even though Corisca and the satire contribute somewhat to the main Action. Neither can I defend my Spanish Friar, as fond as otherwise I am of it from this Imputation: for though the comical parts are diverting, and the serious moving, yet they are of an unnatural mingle. For Mirch and Gravity destroy each other, and are no more to be allowed for decent, than a gay Widow laughing in a mourning Habit.  
I had almost forgotten one considerable resemblance. Du Fresnoy tells us, That the Figures of the Grouppes, must not be all on a side, that is, with their Face and Bodies all turned the same way; but must contrast each other by their several positions. Thus in a Play, some characters must be raised to oppose other; and to set them off the better, according to the old Maxim, Contraria juxta se posita, magis elucescunt. Thus in the Scornful Lady, the Usurer is set to confront the Prodigal. Thus in my Tyrannicque Love, the Atheist Maximin is opposed to the character of St. Catharine.  
I am now come, though with the omission of many Likenesses, to the third Part of Painting, which is called the Cromatique or Colouring. Expression, and all that belongs to words, is that in a Poem, which Colouring is in a Picture. The Colours well chosen in their proper places, together with the Lights and Shadows which belong to them, lighten the Design, and make it pleasing to the Eye. The Words, the Expressions, the Tropes and Figures, the Versification, and all the other Elegancies of Sound, as Cadences, Turns of Words upon the Thought, and many other things which are all parts of expression, perform exactly the same Office both in Dramatic and Epique Poetry. Our Author calls Colouring, Lena Sororis, in plain English, The Bawd of her Sister the Design or Drawing: she cloaths, she dresses her up, she paints her, she makes her appear more lovely than naturally she is, she procures for the Design, and makes Lovers for her. For the Design of itself, is only so many naked lines. Thus in Poetry, the Expression is that which charms the Reader, and beautifies the Design which is only the Out-lines of the Fables. 'Tis true, the Design must of itself be good; if it be vicious or (in one word) unpleasing, the cost of Colouring is thrown away upon it. 'Tis an ugly woman in a rich Habit set out with Jewels, nothing can become her: but granting the Design to be moderately good, 'tis like an excellent Complexion with indifferent Features; the white and red well mingled on the Face, make what was before but passable, appear beautiful. Operum Colores is the very word which Horace uses, to signify Words and elegant Expressions, of which he himself was so great a Master in his Odes. Amongst the Ancients, Zeuxis was most famous for his Colouring. Amongst the Moderns, Titian and Correggio. Of the two Ancient Epique Poets, who have so far excelled all the Moderns, the Invention and Design were the particular Talents of Homer. Virgil must yield to him in both, for the Design of the Latin was borrowed from the Grecian: But the dictio Virgiliana, the expression of Virgil; his Colouring was incomparably the better, and in that I have always endeavoured to copy him. Most of the Pedants I know maintain the contrary, and will have Homer excel even in this part. But of all people, as they are the most ill mannered, so they are the worst Judges; even of words which are their Province, they seldom know more than the Grammatical construction, unless they are born with a Poetical Genius; which is a rare Portion amongst them. Yet some I know may stand excepted; and such I honour. Virgil is so exact in every word, that none can be changed but for a worse: nor any one removed from its place, but the harmony will be altered. He pretends sometimes to trip; but 'tis only to make you think him in danger of a fall, when he is most secure. Like a skilful dancer on the Ropes (if you will pardon the meanness of the similitude) who slips willingly and makes a seeming stumble, that you may think him in great hazard of breaking his neck; while at the same time he is only giving you a proof of his dexterity. My late Lord Roscomon was often pleased with this reflection, and with the examples of it in this admirable Author.  
I have not leisure to run through the whole Comparison of Lights and Shadows with Tropes and Figures; yet I cannot but take notice of Metaphors, which like them have power to lessen or greaten any thing. Strong and glowing Colours are the just resemblances of bold Metaphors, but both must be judiciously applied; for there is a difference betwixt daring and fool-hardiness. Lucan and Statius often ventured them too far, our Virgil never. But the great defect of the Pharsalia and the Thebais was in the Design; if that had been more perfect, we might have forgiven many of their bold strokes in the Colouring; or at least excused them: yet some of them are such as Demosthenes or Cicero could not have defended. Virgil, if he could have seen the first Verses of the Sylvae, would have thought Statius mad in his sustian Description of the Statue on the brazen Horse. But that Poet was always in a Foam at his setting out, even before the Motion of the Race had warmed him. The soberness of Virgil, whom he read it seems to little purpose, might have shown him the difference betwixt, Arma virumque cano, and Magnanimum AEacidem, formidatamque tonanti Progeniem. But Virgil knew how to rise by degrees in his expressions: Statius was in his towering heights at the first stretch of his Pinions. The description of his running Horse just starting in the Funeral Games for Archemorus, though the Verses are wonderfully fine, are the true Image of their Author. 
Stare adeo nescit, pereunt vestigia mille  
Ante fugam; absentemque ferit gravis ungula campum.  Which would cost me an hour, if I had the leisure to translate them, there is so much of Beauty in the Original. Virgil, as he better knew his Colours, so he knew better how and where to place them. In as much haste as I am, I cannot forbear giving one example. 'Tis said of him, That he read the Second, Fourth and Sixth Books of his Aeneids to Augustus Caesar. In the Sixth, (which we are sure he read, because we know Octavia was present, who rewarded him so bountifully for the twenty Verses which were made in honour of her deceased Son Marcellus) in this sixth Book I say, the Poet speaking of Misenus the Trumpeter, says, 
— Quo non praestantior alter,  
Aere ciere viros,—  And broke off in the Hemystick or midst of the Verse: but in the very reading seized as it were with a divine Fury, he made up the latter part of the Hemystick, with these following words; — Martemque accendere cantu. How warm, nay how glowing a Colouring is this! In the beginning of the Verse, the word Aes, or Brass, was taken for a Trumpet, because the Instument was made of that Metal, which of itself was fine; but in the latter end, which was made ex tempore, you see three Metaphors, Martemque,— accendere,— cantu. Good Heavens! how the plain sense is raised by the Beauty of the words. But this was Happiness, the former might be only Judgement: this was the curiosa felicitas, which Petronius attributes to Horace; 'tis the Pencil thrown luckily full upon the Horse's mouth to express the Foam which the Painter with all his skill could not perform without it. These hits of words a true Poet often finds, as I may say, without seeking: but he knows their value when he finds them, and is infinitely pleased. A bad Poet may sometimes light on them, but he discerns not a Diamond from a Bristol ●●stone; and would have been of the Cock's mind in Aesop, a Grain of Barley would have pleased him better than the jewel. The Lights and Shadows which belongs to Colouring, put me in mind of that Verse in Horace, Hoc amat obscurum, vult hoc sub luce videri: some parts of a Poem require to be amply written, and with all the force and elegance of Words: others must be cast into Shadows; that is, passed over in silence, or but faintly touched. This belongs wholly to the Judgement of the Poet and the Painter. The most beautiful parts of the Picture and the Poem must be the most finished, the Colours and Words most chosen; many things in both which are not deserving of this care, must be shifted off; content with vulgar expressions and those very short, and left as in a shadow to the imagination of the Reader.  
We have the Proverb, manum de tabulâ, from the Painters; which signifies, to know when to give over, and to lay by the Pencil. Both Homer and Virgil practised this Precept wonderfully well, but Virgil the better of the two. Homer knew that when Hector was slain, Troy was as good as already taken; therefore he concludes his Action there. For what follows in the Funerals of Patroclus, and the redemption of Hector's Body, is not (properly speaking) a part of the main Action. But Virgil concludes with the death of Turnus: sor after that difficulty was removed, Aeneas might marry and establish the Trojans when he pleased. This Rule I had before my Eyes in the conclusion of the Spanish Friar, when the discovery was made, that the King was living, which was the knot of the Play untied, the rest is shut up in the compass of some few lines, because nothing then hindered the Happiness of Torismond and Leonora. The faults of that Drama are in the kind of it, which is Traguses comedy. But it was given to the people; and I never writ any thing for myself but Anthony and Cleopatra.  
This Remark I must acknowledge is not so proper for the Colouring as the Design; but it will hold for both. As the words, etc. are evidently shown to be the clothing of the Thought, in the same sense as Colours are the clothing of the Design, so the Painter and the Poet ought to judge exactly, when the Colouring and Expressions are perfect, and then to think their work is truly finished. Apelles' said of Protogenes, That he knew not when to give over. A work may be overwrought as well as under-wrought: too much Labour often takes away the Spirit by adding to the polishing; so that there remains nothing but a dull correctness, a piece without any considerable Faults, but with few Beauties; for when the Spirits are drawn off, there is nothing but a caput mortuum. Statius never thought an expression could be bold enough; and if a bolder could be found he rejected the first. Virgil had Judgement enough to know daring was necessary; but he knew the difference betwixt a glowing Colour and a glaring: as when he compared the shocking of the Fleets at Actium to the justling of Islands rend from their Foundations, and meeting in the Ocean. He knew the comparison was forced beyond Nature and raised too high: he therefore softens the Metaphor with a Credas. You would almost believe, that Mountains or Islands rushed against each other. 
— Credas innare revulsas  
Cycladas: aut montes concurrere montibus aequos.   
But here I must break off without finishing the Discourse.  
Cynthius' aurem vellit & admonuit, etc. the things which are behind are of too nice a consideration for an Essay, begun and ended in twelve Mornings, and perhaps the judges of Painting and Poetry, when I tell them, how short a time it cost me, may make me the same answer, which my late Lord Rochester made to one, who to commend a Tragedy, said it was written in three weeks; How the Devil could he be so long about it? For that Poem was infamously bad; and I doubt this Parallel is little better; and then the shortness of the time is so far from being a Commendation, that it is scarcely an Excuse. But if I have really drawn a Portrait to the Knees, or an half length with a tolerable Likeness, than I may plead with some Justice for myself, that the rest is left to the Imagination. Let some better Artist provide himself of a deeper Canvas, and taking these hints which I have given, set the Figure on its Legs, and finish it in the Invention, Design and Colouring.   

THE PREFACE OF THE French Author.  
AMong all the beautiful and delightful Arts, that of Painting has always found the most Lovers; the number of them almost including all Mankind. Of whom great multitudes are daily found, who value themselves on the knowledge of it; either because they keep company with Painters, or that they have seen good Pieces; or lastly, because their Gusto is naturally good. Which notwithstanding, that Knowledge of theirs (if we may so call it) is so very superficial, and so ill grounded, that it is impossible for them to describe in what consists the beauty of those Works which they admire, or the faults which are in the greatest part of those which they condemn: and truly 'tis not hard to find, that this proceeds from no other cause, than that they are not furnished with Rules by which to judge, nor have any solid Foundations, which are as so many Lights set up to clear their understanding and lead them to an entire and certain knowledge. I think it superfluous to prove that this is necessary to the knowledge of Painting. 'Tis sufficient, that Painting be acknowledged for an Art; for that being granted it follows without dispute, that no Arts are without their Precepts. I shall satisfy myself with telling you, that this little Treatise will furnish you with infallible Rules of judging truly: since they are not only founded upon right Reason but upon the best Pieces of the best Masters, which our Author hath carefully examined during the space of more than thirty years; and on which he has made all the reflections which are necessary to render this Treatise worthy of Posterity: which though little in bulk, yet contains most judicious Remarks, and suffers nothing to escape that is essential to the Subject which it handles. If you will please to read it with attention, you will find it capable of giving the most nice and delicate sort of Knowledge, not only to the Lovers, but even to the Professors of that Art.  
It would be too long to tell you the particular advantages which it has above all the Books which hath appeared before it in this kind: you need only to read it, and that will convince you of this truth. All that I will allow myself to say, is only this, That there is not a word in it, which carries not its weight; whereas in all others, there are two considerable faults which lie open to the sight, (viz) That saying too much, they always say too little. I assure myself, that the Reader will own 'tis a work of general profit, to the Lovers of Painting, for their instruction how to judge exactly; and with Knowledge of the Cause, which they are to judge. And to the Painters themselves, by removing their difficulties, that they may work with pleasure; because they may be in some manner certain that their Productions are good. 'Tis to be used like Spirits and precious Liquors, the less you drink of it at a time 'tis with the greater pleasure: read it often, and but little at once, that you may digest it better; and dwell particularly on those passages which you find marked with an Asterism* For the observations which follow such a Note, will give you a clearer Light, on the matter which is there treated. You will find them by the Numbers which are on the side of the Translation, from five to five Veres; by searching for the like Number in the Remarks which are at the end of it, and which are distinguished from each other by this note ¶. You will find in the latter Pages of this Book, the Judgement of the Author on those Painters, who have acquired the greatest Reputation in the World. Amongst whom, he was not willing to comprehend those who are now living: They are undoubtedly his, as being found among his Papers written in his own hand.  
As for the Prose Translation which you will find on the other side of the Latin Poem, I must inform you on what occasion, and in what manner it was performed. The Love which I had for Painting, and the pleasure which I found in the Exercise of that noble Art, at my leisure hours, gave me the desire of being acquainted with the late Mr. du FRESNOY; who was generally reputed to have a through knowledge of it. Our Acquaintance at length proceeded to that degree of Intimacy; that he entrusted me with his Poem, which he believed me capable both of understanding, and translating; and accordingly desired me to undertake it. The truth is, that we had conversed so often on that Subject, and he had communicated his Thoughts of it so fully to me; that I had not the least remaining difficulty concerning it. I undertook therefore to translate it, and employed myself in it with Pleasure, Care, and Assiduity; after which, I put it into his hands, and he altered in it what he pleased, till at last it was wholly to his Mind. And then he gave his Consent that it should be published: but his Death preventing that Design, I thought it a wrong to his Memory, to deprive Mankind any longer of this Translation, which I may safely affirm to be done according to the true sense of the Author, and to his liking: Since he himself has given great Testimonies of his Approbation to many of his Friends, and they who were acquainted with him, know his humour to be such, that he would never constrain himself so far, as to commend what he did not really approve. I thought myself obliged to say thus much, in vindication of the faithfulness of my Work, to those who understand not the Latin: for as to those who are conversant in both the tongues, I leave them to make their own judgement of it.  
The Remarks which I have added to his work, are also wholly conformable to his opinions; and I am certain that he would not have disapproved them. I have endeavoured in them to explain some of the most obscure passages, and those which are most necessary to be understood; and I have done this according to the manner wherein he used to express himself, in many Conversations which we had together. I have con●●in'd them also to the narrowest compass I was able, that I might not tyre the patience of the Reader, and that they might be read by all persons. But if it happens, that they are not to the taste of some Readers (as doubtless it will so fall out) I leave them entirely to their own discretion, and shall not be displeased that another hand should succeed better. I shall only beg this favour from them, that in reading what I have written, they will bring no particular gusto along with them, or any prevention of mind, and that whatsoever judgement they make, it may be purely their own, whether it be in my favour, or in my condemnation.   

A TABLE of the Precepts Contained in this TREATISE.  

OF what is Beautiful. p. 7  
Of Theory and Practice. 8  
Concerning the Subject. 11  
Invention the first part of Painting. 12  
The Disposition of the whole Work. ib.  
The Faithfulness of the Subject. ib.  
Whatsoever palls the Subject to be rejected. 15  
Design, or Drawing the second part of Painting. 16  
Variety in the Figures. 19  
The Members and Drapery of every Figure to be suitable to it. ib.  
The Actions of Mutes to be imitated. ib.  
Of the principal Figure of the Subject. ib.  
Grouppes of Figures. 20  
The Diversity of Postures in the Grouppes. ib.  
Equality of the Piece. ib.  
Of the number of Figures. 23  
Of the joints and Feet. ib.  
The Motions of the Hands and Head must agree. ib.  
What must be avoided in the distribution of the Figures. ib.  
That we must not tie ourselves to Nature, but accommodate her to our Genius. 24  
Ancient Figures the Rules of imitating Nature. 27  
A single Figure how to be treated. ib.  
Of the Draperies. ib.  
What things contribute to adorn the Picture. 31  
Of precious Stones and Pearls for Ornament. ib.  
The Model. ib.  
The Scene of the Picture. ib.  
The Graces and the Nobleness. ib.  
Let every thing be set in its proper place. ib.  
Of the Passions. 32  
Gothique Ornamen to be avoided. ib.  
Colouring the third part of Painting. 35  
The Conduct of the Tones of Lights and Shadows. 39  
Of dark Bodies on light grounds. 40  
That there must not be two equal Lights in a Picture. 43  
Of White and Black. 44  
The Reflection of Colours. 47  
The Union of Colours. ib.  
Of the Interposition of Air. ib.  
The relation of Distances. 48  
Of Bodies which are distanced. ib.  
Of Bodies which are contiguous, and of those which are separated. ib.  
Contrary extremities to be avoided. ib.  
Diversity of Tones and Colours. ib.  
The Choice of Light. 51  
Of certain things relating to the practical part. ib.  
The Field, or Ground of the Picture. ib.  
Of the Vivacity of Colours. 52  
Of Shadows. ib.  
The Picture to be of one Piece. ib.  
The Looking-glass the Painter's best Master. ib.  
An half Figure, or a whole one before others. ib.  
A Portrait. 55  
The place of the Picture. ib.  
Large Lights. 56  
What Lights are requisite. ib.  
Things which are vicious in Painting to be avoided. ib.  
The prudential part of a Painter. ib.  
The Idea of a beautiful Piece. 59  
Advice to a young Painter. ib.  
Art must be subservient to the Painter. 60  
Diversity and Facility are pleasing. ib.  
The Original must be in the Head, and the Copy on the Cloth. ib.  
The Compass to be in the Eyes. ib.  
Pride an Enemy to good Painting. 63  
Know yourself. ib.  
Practise perpetually. 64  
The Morning most proper for Work. ib.  
Every day do something. ib.  
The Passions which are true and na●●ural ib.  
Of Table-Books. 67  
The method of Studies for a young ●●ainter. 71  
Nature and Experience perfect Art. 76    

THE ART OF PAINTING.  

DE ARTE GRAPHICA LIBER.  

UT PICTURA POESIS ERIT; similisque Poesi  
Sit Pictura, refert par aemula quaeque sororem,  
Alternantque vices & nomina; muta Poesis  
Dicitur haec, Pictura loquens solet illa vocari.   

Quod fuit auditu gratum cecinere Poetae,  
Quod pulchrum aspectu Pictores pingere curant:  
Quaeque Poetarum numeris indigna fuêre,  
Non eadem Pictorum operam studiumque merentur:   

Ambae quippe sacros ad Relligionis honores  
Sydereos superant ignes, Aulamque Tonantis  
Ingressae, Diuûm aspectu, alloquioque fruuntur;  
Oraque magna Deûm & dicta observata reportant,  
Coelestemque suorum operum mortalibus ignem.  
Ind pe●● hunc orbem studiis coêuntibus errant,  
Carpentes quae digna sui, revolutaque lustrant  
Tempora. Quaerendis consortibus Argumentis.   

Denique quaecumque in coelo, terraque, marique  
Longius in tempus durare, ut pulchra, merentur,  
Nobilitate sua claroque insignia casu,  
Dives & ampla manet Pictores atque Poetas  
Materies, inde alta sonant per saecula mundo  
Nomina, magnanimis Heroibus inde superstes  
Gloria, perpetuoque operum miracula restant:  
Tantus inest divis honor Artibus atque potestas.   

Non mihi Pieridum chorus hic, nec Apollo vocandus,  
Majus ut eloquium numeris aut gratia fandi  
Dogmaticis illustret opus rationibus horrens:  
Cum nitida tantum & facili digesta loquelâ,  
Ornari praecepta negent; contenta doceri.   

Nec mihi mens animusve fuit constringere nodos  
Artificum manibus, quos tantum dirigit usus;  
Indolis ut vigor inde potens obstrictus hebescat,  
Normarum numero immani Geniumque moretur:   

Sed rerum ut pollens Ars cognitione gradatim  
Naturae sese insinuet, verique capacem  
Transeat in Genium, Geniusque usu induat Artem.   

Praecipua imprimis Artisque potissima pars est, 
Primum Praeceptum. De Pulchro.   
Nôsse quid in rebus Natura creârit ad Artem  
Pulchrius, idque Modum juxta, Mentemque Vetustam,   

Qua sine barbaries caeca & temeraria Pulchrum  
Negligit, insultans ignotae audacior Arti,  
Ut curare nequit, quae non modo noverit esse,  
Illud apud Veteres fuit, unde notabile dictum,  
Nil Pictore malo securius atque Poeta.   

Cognita amas, & amata cupis, sequerisque cupita;  
Passibus assequeris tandem quae fervidus urges:  
Illa tamen quae pulchra decent; non omnia casus  
Qualiacumque dabunt, etiamve simillima veris:  
Nam quamcumque modo servili haud sufficit ipsam  
Naturam exprimere ad vivum, sed ut Arbiter Artis  
Seliget ex illa tantùm pulcherrima Pictor.  
Quodque minus pulchrum, aut mendosum corriget ipse  
Marte suo, formae Veneres captando fugaces.   

Utque manus grandi nil nomine practica dignum  
Assequitur, 
Praeceptum. De Speculatione & Praxi.  purum arcanae quam deficit Artis  
Lumen, & in praeceps abitura ut caeca vagatur;  
Sic nihil Ars operâ manuum privata supremum  
Exequitur, sed languet iners uti vincta lacertos;  
Dispositumque typum non linguâ pinxit Apelles.  
Ergo licet totâ normam haud possimus in Arte  
Ponere, (cum nequeant quae sunt pulcherrima dici)  
Nitimur haec paucis, scrutati summa magistrae  
Dogmata Naturae, Artisque Exemplaria prima  
Altiùs intuiti; sic mens habilisque facultas  
Indolis excolitur, Geniumque scientia complet,  
Luxuriansque in monstra furor compescitur Arte:  
Est modus in rebus, ●●unt certi denique fines,  
Quos ultra citraque nequit consistere rectum.   

His positis, erit optandum Thema nobile, 
Praeceptum. De Argumento.  pulchrum,  
Quodque venustatum circa Formam atque Colorem  
Sponte capax amplam emeritae mox praebeat Arti  
Materiam, retegens aliquid salis & documenti.   

Tandem opus aggredior, primoque occurrit in Albo  
Disponenda typi concepta potente Mineruâ  
Machina, quae nostris Inventio dicitur oris.   

Illa quidem prius ingenuis instructa Sororum  
Artibus Aonidum, 
INVENTIO prima Picturae pars.  & Phoebi sublimior aestu.   

Quaerendasque inter Posituras, luminis, 
Dispositio, sive operis totius Oeconomia.  umbrae,  
Atque futurorum jam praesentire colorum  
Par erit harmoniam, captando ab utrisque venustum.   

Sit Thematis genuina ac viva expressio juxta  
Textum Antiquorum, 
Fidelitas Argumenti.  propriis cum tempore formis.  
Nec quod inane, nihil facit ad rem, 
Inane rejici●●ndum.  sive videtur  
Improprium, minim●●que urgens, potiora tenebit  
Ornamenta operis; Tragicae sed lege sororis  
Summa ubi res agitur, vis summa requiritur Artis.   

Ista labore gravi, studio, monitisque Magistri  
Ardua pars nequit addisci rarissima: namque  
Ni prius aethereo rapuit quod ab axe Prometheus  
Sit jubar infusum menti cum flamine vitae,  
Mortali haud cuivis divina haec munera dantur,  
Non uti Daedaleam licet omnibus ire Corinthum.   

Aegypto informis quondam Pictura reperta,  
Graecorum studiis & mentis acumine crevit:  
Egregiis tandem illustrata & adulta Magistris  
Naturam visa est miro superare labore.   

Quos inter Graphidos gymnasia prima fuêre,  
Portus Athenarum, Sicyon, Rhodos, atque Corinthus,  
Disparia inter se, modicùm ratione Laboris;  
Ut patet ex Veterum statuis, formae atque decoris  
Archetypis, 
GRAPHIS seu Positura, Secunda Picturae pars.  queis posterior nil protulit aetas  
Condignum, & non inferius longe Arte, Modoque:  
Horum igitur vera ad normam Positura legetur,  
Grandia, inaequalis, formosaque Partibus amplis  
Anteriora dabit membra, in contraria motu  
Diverso variata, suo liberataque centro:   

Membrorumque Sinus ignis flammantis ad instar  
Serpenti undantes flexu, sed laevia plana  
Magnaque signa, quasi sine tubere subdita tactu  
Ex longo deducta fluant, non secta minutim,  
Insertisque Toris sint not a ligamina juxta  
Compagem Anathomes, & membrificatio Graeco  
Deformata Modo, paucisque expressa lacertis,  
Qualis apud Veteres; totoque Eurithmia partes  
Componat, genitumque suo generante sequenti  
Sit minus, & puncto videantur cuncta sub uno;  
Regula certa licet nequeant Prospectica dici,  
Aut complementum Graphidos; sed in arte juvamen  
Et Modus accelerans operandi: ut corpor a falso  
Sub visu in multis referens mendosa labascit:  
Nam Geometralem nunquam sunt corpora juxta  
Mensuram depicta oculis, sed qualia visa.   

Non eadem formae species, 
Varietas in Figuris.  non omnibus aetas  
Aequalis, similisque color, crinesque Figuris:  
Nam variis velut orta plagis Gens disparevultu.   

Singula membra suo capiti conformia fiant  
Unum idemque simul corpus cum vestibus ipsis: 
Figura situna cum Membris & Vestibus   
Mutorumque silens Positura imitabitur actus. 
Mutorum actiones imitandae.    

Prima Figurarum, 
Figura Princ●●ps.  seu Princeps Dramatis ultro  
Prosiliat media in Tabula sub lumine primo  
Pulchrior ante alias, reliquis nec operta Figuris.  
Agglomerata simul sint membra, 
Figurarum Globiseu Cumuli.  ipsaeque Figurae  
Stipentur, circumque globos locus usque vacabit;  
Ne, mal●● dispersis dum visus ubique Figuris  
Dividitur, cunctisque operis fervente tumultu  
Partibus implicitis crepitans confusio surgat.   

Inque figurarum cumulis non omnibus idem  
Corporis inflexus, 
Positurorum di●●ersitas in cumulis.  motusque, vel artibus omnes  
Conversis pariter non connitantur eodem,  
Sed quaedam in diversa trahant contraria membra  
Transvers●●que aliis pungent, & caetera frangant.   

Pluribus adversis aversam oppone figuram,  
Pectoribusque humeros, & dextera membra sinistris,  
Seu multis constabit Opus, paucisve figuris.   

Altera pars tabulae vacuo ne frigida Campo  
Aut deserta siet, 
Tabulaelibramentum.  dum pluribus alter a formis  
Fervida mole sua supremam exurgit ad or am:  
Sed tibi sic positis respondeat utraque rebus,  
Ut si aliquid sursum se parte attollat in unâ,  
Sic aliquid parte ex alia consurgat, & ambas  
Aequiparet, geminas cumulando aequaliter oras.   

Pluribus implicitum Personis Drama supremo  
In genere ut rarum est; 
Numerus Figurarum.  multis ita densa Figuris  
Rarior est Tabula excellens; vel adhuc ferè nulla  
Praestitit in multis quod vix bene praestat in unâ:   

Quippe solet rerum nimio dispersa tumultu  
Majestate carere gravi requieque decorâ;  
Nec speciosa nitet vacuo nisi liber a Campo.   

Sed si Opere in magno plures Thema grande requirat  
Esse figurarum Cumulos, spectabitur unà  
Machina tota rei, non singula quaeque seorsim.   

Praecipua extremis raro Internodia membris  
Abdita sint: 
Internodia & Pedes exhibendi.  summa Pedum vestigia nunquam. 
Motusmanuum motui capitis jungendus.    

Gratia nulla manet, 
Quaefugienda in Distributione & Compositione.  motusque, vigorque Figuras  
Retro aliis subter majori ex parte latentes,  
Ni capitis motum manibus comitentur agendo.   

Difficiles fugitoa spectus, contractaque visu  
Membra sub ingrato, motusque, actusque coactos,  
Quodque refert signis, rectos quodammodo tractus,  
Siva Parallelos plures simul, & vel acutas,  
Vel Geometrales (ut Quadra, Triangula,) formas:  
Ingratamque pari Signorum ex ordine quandam  
Symmetriam: sed praecipu●● in contraria semper  
Signa volunt duci transversa, ut diximus anté.  
Summa igitur ratio Signorum habeatur in omni  
Composito; dat enim reliquis pretium, atque vigorem.   

Non ita naturae astanti sis cuique revinctus,  
Hanc praeter nihil ut Genio studioque relinquas; 
NaturaGenlo accommodanda.   
Nec sine teste rei natura, Artisque Magistra  
Quidlibet ingenio memor ut tantummodo rerum  
Pingere posse putes; errorum est plurima sylva,  
Multiplicesque viae, bene agendi terminus unus,  
Linea recta velut sola est, & mille recurvae:   

Sed juxta Antiquos naturam imitabere pulchram,  
Qualem forma rei propria, objectumque requirit.   

Non te igitur lateant antiqua Numismata, Gemmae, 
Signa Antiqua Naturae modum constituunt.   
Vasa, Typi, Statuae, caelataque Marmora Signis;  
Quodque refert specie Veterum post saecula Mentem;  
Splendidior quippe ex illis assurgit imago,  
Magnaque se rerum facies aperit meditanti;  
Tunc nostri tenuem saecli miserebere sortem,  
cum spes nulla siet rediturae aequalis in aevum.   

Exquisita siet formâ dum sola Figura.  
Pingitur, 
Sola Figura quomodotractanda.  & multis variata Coloribus esto.   

Lati amplique sinus Pannorum, 
Quid in Pannis observandum.  & nobilis ordo  
Membra sequens, subter latitantia Lumine ●● Umbra  
Exprimet, ille licet transversus saepe feratur,  
Et circumfulos Pannorum porrigat extra  
Membra sinus, non contiguous, ipsisque Figurae  
Partibus impressos, quasi Pannus adhaereat illis;  
Sed modic●● expressos cum Lumine servet & Umbris:  
Quaeque intermissis passim sunt dissita vanis  
Copulet, inductis subtérve, lacernis.  
Et membra ut magnis paucisque expressa lacertis.   

Majestate allis preastant forma atque decore;  
Haud seus in Pannis quos supra optavimus amplos  
Perpaucos sinuum flexus, rugasque, striasque,  
Membra super versu faciles inducere praestat.   

Naturaeque rei proprius sit Pannus, abundans  
Patriciis, succinctus erit crassusque Bubulcis  
Mancipiisque; levis, teneris, gracilisque Puellis.   

Inque cavis maculisque umbrarum aliquando tumescet  
Lumen ut excipiens operis quá Massa requirit  
Latius extendat, sublatisque aggreget umbris.   

Nobilia Arma juvant virtutum, 
Quid multu●● conferat ad●● abulae ornamentum.  ornantque Figura●●,  
Qualia Musarum, Belli, Cultusque Deorum:  
Nec sit opus nimiùm Gemmis Auroque refertum;  
Rara etenim magno in pretio, 
Ornamentum Auri & Gemmarum.   
sed plurima vili.   

Quae deinde ex Vero nequeunt praesente videri, 
Prototypus.   
Prototypum prius illorum formare juvabit.   

Conveniat locus atque habitus, 
Convenientia rerum cum Scena.   
ritusque decusque  
Servetur; sit Nobilitas, Charitumque Venustas,  
(Rarum homini munus, 
Charites & Nobilitas.   
Coelo, non Arte petendum.)   

Naturae sit ubique tenor ratioque sequenda. 
Res quaeque locum suum teneat.   
Non vicina pedum tabulata excelsa tonantis  
Astra domus depicta gerent nubesque notosque;  
Nec mare depressum Laquearia summa vel orcum;  
Marmoreamque feret cannis vaga pergula molem:  
Congrua sed propriâ semper statione locentur.   

Haec praeter motus animorum & corde repostos  
Exprimere Affectus, 
Affectus.   
paucisque coloribus ipsam  
Pingere posse animam, atque oculis praebere videndam,  
Hoc opus, his labour est: pauci quos aequus amavit  
Juppiter, aut ardens evexit ad aethera virtus:  
Dîs similes potuere manu miracula tanta.   

Hos ego Rhetoribus tractandos desero tantum  
Egregii antiquum memorabo sophisma Magistri,  
Verius affectus animi vigor exprimit ardens,  
Solliciti nimiúm quam sedula cura laboris.   

Denique nil sapiat Gotthorum barbara trito  
Ornamenta modo, 
Gotthorum ornamenta fugienda.   
saeclorum & monstra malorum;  
Queis ubi bella, famen & pestem, Discordia, Luxus,  
Et Romanorum res grandior intulit Orbi,  
Ingenuae periere Artes, periere superbae  
Artificum moles, s●●a tunc miracula vidit  
Ignibus absumi Pictura, latere coacta  
Fornicibus, sortem & reliquam confidere Cryptis,  
Marmoribusque diu Sculptura jacere sepultis.   

Imperium interea scelerum gravitate fatiscens  
Horrida nox totum invasit, donoque superni  
Luminis indignum, errorum caligine mersit,  
Impiaque ignaris damnavit saecla tenebris:   

Unde Coloratum Graiis huc usque Magistris  
Nil superest tantorum Hominum quod Mente Modoque  
Nostrates juvet Artifices, 
CHROMATICE Tertia pars Picturae.  doceatque Laborem;  
Nec qui Chromatices nobis hoc tempor partes  
Restituat, quales Zeuxis tractaverat olim.  
Hujus quando magâ velut Arte aequavit Apellem  
Pictorum Archigraphum meruitque Coloribus altam  
Nominis aeterni famam toto orbe sonantem.   

Haec quidem ut in Tabulis fallax sed grata Venustas,  
Et complementum Graphidos (mirabile visu)  
Pulchra vocabatur, sed subdola Lena Sororis:  
Non tamen hoc lenocinium; fucusque, dolusque  
Dedecori fuit unquam; illi sed semper honori,  
Laudibus & meritis; hanc ergo nosse juvabit.   

Lux varium vivumque dabit, nullum Umbra Colorem.  
Quo magis adversum est corpus lucisque propinquum,  
Clarius est Lumen; nam debilitatur eundo.   

Quo magis est ●●orpus directum oculisque propinquum,  
Conspicitur meliùs; nam visus hebescit eundo.   

Ergo in corporibus quae visa adversa rotundis  
Integra sint, 
Tonorum, Luminum & Umbrarum ratio.  extrema abscedant perdita signis  
Confusis, non praecipiti labentur in Umbram  
Clara gradu, nec adumbrata in clara alta repente  
Prorumpant; sederit sensim hinc atque inde meatus  
Lucis & Umbrarum; capitisque unius ad instar  
Totum opus, ex multis quamquam sit partibus unus  
Luminis Umbrarumque globus tantummodo fiet,  
Sive duo vel tres ad summum, ubi grandius esset  
Divisum Pegma in partes statione remotas.   

Sintque ita discreti inter se ratione colorum,  
Luminis umbrarumque anteorsum ut corpora clara  
Obscura umbrarum requies speetanda relinquat;  
Claroque exiliant umbrata atque aspera Campo.   

Ac veluti in speculis convexis eminet ante  
Asperior reipsa vigor & vis aucta colorum  
Partibus adversis; magis & fuga rupta retrorsum  
Illorum est (ut visa minùs vergentibus oris)  
Corporibus dabimus formas hoc more rotundas,  
Mente Modoque igitur Plastes & Pictor eodem  
Dispositum tractabit opus; quae Sculptor in orbem  
Atterit, haec rupto pro●●ul abscedente colore  
Assequitur Pictor, fugientiaque illa retrorsum  
jam signata minùs confusa coloribus aufert:   

Anteriora quidem directè adversa, colore  
Integra, vivaci, summo cum Lumine & Umbra  
Antrorsum distincta refert velut aspera visu.   

Sicque super planum inducit Leucoma Colores.  
Hos velut ex ipsa natura immotus eodem  
Intuitu circum Statuas daret inde rotundas.   

Densa Figurarum solidis quae corpora formis  
Subdita sunt tactu non transluent, 
Corpora densa & opaca cum translucentibus.  sed opaca  
In translucendi spatio ut super Aera, Nubes  
Lympida stagna Undarum, & inania caetera debent  
Asperiora illis prope circumstantibu●● esse,  
Ut distincta magis firmo cum L●●mine & Umbra,  
Et gravioribus ut suste●● a coloribus, inter  
Aëreas species subsistent semper opaca:  
Sed contra procul abscedant perlucida densis  
Corporibus leviora; uti Nubes, Aër & Undae.   

Non poterunt diversa locis duo Lumina eâdem  
In Tabulâ paria admitti, 
Non duo ex Coelo Lumina in Tabulam aequalia.  aut aequalia pingi:  
Majus at in mediam Lumen ●●adet usqe Tabellam  
Latius infusum, primis qua summa Figuris  
Res agitur, circumque oras minuetur eundo:  
Utque in progressu jubar attenuatur ab ortu  
Solis ad occasum paulatim, & cessat eundo;  
Sic Tabulis Lumen, tota in compage Colorum,  
Primo à fonte, minus sensim declinat eundo.  
Majus ut in Statuis per compita stantibus Urbis  
Lumen habent Partes superae, minus inferiores,  
Idem erit in tabulis, majorque nec umbra vel ater  
Membra Figurarum intrabit Color atque secabit:   

Corpora sed circum Umbra cavis latitabit oberrans:  
Atque ita quaeretur Lux opportuna Figuris,  
Ut late infusum Lumen lata Umbra sequatur:  
Unde nec immeritò fertur Titianus ubique  
Lucis & Umbrarum Normam appellasse Racemum.   

Purum Album esse potest propiusque magisque remotum:  
Cum Nigro antevenit propiùs, 
Album & N●●grum.  fugit absque remotum;  
Purum autem Nigrum antrorsum venit usque Propinquum.   

Lux fucata suo tingit miscetque Colore  
Corpora, sicque suo, per quem Lux funditur, aër   

Corpora juncta simul, 
Colorum reflectio.  circumfusosque Colores  
Excipiunt, propriumque aliis radiosa reflectunt.   

Pluribus in Solidis liquidâ sub Luce propinquis  
Participes, 
Unio Colorum.  mixtosque simul decet esse Colores.  
Hanc Normam Veneti Pictores rité secuti,  
(Quae fuit Antiquis Corruptio dicta Colorum)  
cum plures opere in magno posuêre Figuras,  
Ne conjuncta simul variorum inimica Colorum  
Congeries Formam implicitam & concisa minutis  
Membra daret Pannis, totam unamquamque Figuram  
Affini aut uno tantùm vestire Colore  
Sunt soliti, variando Tonis tunicamque togamque  
Carbaseosque Sinus, vel amicum in Lumine & Umbra  
Contiguis circum rebus sociando Colorem.   

Quà minus est spatii aërei, 
Aer interpositus.  aut quà purior Aër,  
Cuncta magis distincta patent, speciesque reservant:  
Qu●●que magis densus nebulis, aut plurimus Aër  
Amplum inter fuerit spatium porrectus, 
Distantiarum Relatio.  in auras  
Confundet rerum species, & perdet inanes.  
Anteriora magis semper finita remotis  
Incertis dominentur & abscedentibus, idque  
More relativo, ut majora minoribus extant.   

Cuncta minuta procul Massam densantur in unam, 
Corpora procul distantia.   
Ut folia arboribus sylvarum, & in Aequore fluctus.   

Contigua inter se coëant, 
Contigua & Dissita.   
Distabuntque tamen grato & discrimine parvo.   

Extrema extremis contraria jungere noli; 
Contraria extrema fugienda.   
Sed medio sint usque gradu sociata Coloris.   

Corporum erit Tonus atque Color variatus ubique  
Quaerat amicitiam retro, 
Tonus & Color varii.  ferus emicet ante.   

Supremum in Tabulis Lumen captare diei  
Insanus labor Artificum; 
Luminis delectus.  cum attingere tantùm  
Non Pigmenta queant; auream sed vespere Lucem,  
Seu modicam mane albentem, sive aetheris actam  
Post Hymem nimbis transfuso Sole caducam,  
Seu nebulis fultam accipient, tonitruque rubentem.   

Laevia quae lucent, 
Quaedam circa Praxim.  veluti Christalla, Metalla,  
Ligna, Ossa & Lapides; Villosa, ut Vellera, Pelles,  
Barbae, aqueique Oculi, Crines, Holoserica, Plumae;  
Et Liquida, ut stagnans Aqua, reflexaeque sub Undis  
Corporeae species, & Aquis contermina cuncta,  
Subter ad extremum liquide sint picta, superque▪  
Luminibus pereussa suis, signisque repostis.   

Area vel Campus Tabulae vagus esto, 
Campus Tabulae.  levisque  
Abscedat latus, liquideque bene unctis amicis  
Tota ex mole Coloribus, una sive Patellâ:  
Quaeque cadunt retro in Campum confinia Campo.  
vividus esto Color nimio non pallidus Albo, 
Color vividus, non tamen pallidus.   
Adversisque locis ingestus plurimus ardens;  
Sed leviter parcéque datus vergentibus oris.   

Cuncta Labore simul coëant, 
Umbra.  velut Umbrâ in eadem.   

Tota siet Tabula ex unâ depicta Patellâ. 
Ex una Patella sit Tabula.    

Multa ex Natura Speculum praeclara docebit; 
Speculum Pictorum Magister.   
Quaeque procul serò spatiis spectantur in amplis.   

Dimidia Effigies, quae sola, 
Dimidia Figura vel integra ante alias.  vel integra plures  
Ante alias posita ad Lucem, stet proxima visu,  
Et latis spectanda locis, oculisque remota,  
Luminis Umbrarumque gradu sit picta supremo.   

Partibus in minimis imitatio justa juvabit  
E●●igiem, 
E●●igies.  alternas referendo tempore eodem  
Consimiles Partes, cum Luminis atque Coloris  
Compositis justisque Tonis, tunc parta Labore  
Si facili & vegeto micat ardens, viva videtur.   

Visa loco angusto tenerè pingantur, 
Locus Tabulae.  amico  
juncta Colore graduque, procul quae picta feroci  
Sint & inaequali variata Colore, Tonoque.  
Grandia signa volunt spatia ampla ferosque Colores.  
Lumina lata unctas simul undique copulet Umbras  
Extremus Labor. 
Lumina lata.  In Tabulas demissa fenestris  
Si fuerit Lux parva, 
Quantitas Luminis loci in quo Tabula est exponenda.  Color clarissimus esto:  
Vividus at contra obscurusque in Lumine aperto.   

Quae vacuis divisa cavis vitare memento: 
Errores & vitia Picturae.   
Trita, minuta, simul quae non stipata dehiscunt;  
Barbara, Cruda oculis, rugis fucata Colorum,  
Luminis Umbrarumque Tonis aequalia cuncta;  
Foeda, cruenta, cruces, obscoena, ingrata, chimeras,  
Sordidaque & misera, & vel acuta, vel aspera tactu,  
Quaeque dabunt formae temerè congesta ruinam,  
Implicitasque aliis confundent miscua Partes.   

Dumque fugis vitiosa, 
Prudentia in Pictore.  cave in contraria labi  
Damna mali, Vitium extremis nam semper inhaeret.  
Pulchra gradu summo Graphidos stabilita Vetustae  
Nobilibus Signis sunt Grandia, 
Elegantium Idaea Tabularum.  Dissita, Pura,  
Tersa, velut minime confusa, Labore Ligata,  
Partibus ex magnis paucisque efficta, Colorum  
Corporibus distincta feris, sed semper amicis.   

Qui bene coepit, uti facti jam fertur habere  
Dimidium; 
Pictor Tyro.  Picturam ita nil sub limine primo  
Ingrediens Puer offendit damnosius Arti,  
quam varia errorum genera ignorante Magistro  
Ex pravis libare Typis, mentemque veneno  
Inficere, in toto quod non abstergitur aevo.   

Nec Graphidos rudis Artis adhuc cito qualiacumque  
Corpora viva super studium meditabitur ante  
Illorum quam Symmetriam, Internodia, Formam  
Noverit inspectis docto evolvente Magistro  
Archetypis, dulcesque Dolos praesenserit Artis.  
Plusque Manu ante oculos quam voce docebitur usus. 
Ars debet servire Pictori, non Pictor Arti.    

Quaere Artem quaecumque juvant, 
Oculosrecreant diversitas & Operis facilitas, quae speciatim Ars dicitur.  fuge quaeque repugnant.   

Corpora diversae naturae juncta placebunt;  
Sic ea quae facili contempta labore videntur:  
Aethereus quippe ignis inest & spiritus illis.  
Mente diu versata, manu celeranda repenti.  
Arsque Laborque Operis grata sic fraude latebit.  
Maxima deinde erit ars, nihil artis inesse videri.   

Nec prius inducas Tabulae Pigmenta Colorum,  
Expensi quam signa Typi stabilita nitescant, 
Archetypus in ment, Apographum in tela.   
Et menti praesens Operis sit Pegma futuri.   

Praevaleat sensus rationi quae officit Arti  
Conspicuae, 
Circinusin oculis.  inque oculis tantummodo Circinus esto.   

Utere Doctorum Monitis, nec sperne superbus  
Discere quae de te fuerit Sententia Vulgi. 
Superbia pictori nocet plurimúm.   
Est coecus nam quisque suis in rebus, & expers  
judicii, Prolemque suam miratur amatque.  
Ast ubi Consilium deerit Sapientis Amici,  
Id tempus dabit, atque mora intermissa labori.  
Non facilis tamen ad nutus & inania Vulgi  
Dicta levis mutabis Opus, Geniumque relinques:  
Nam qui parte sua sperat bene posse mereri  
Multivaga de Plebe, nocet sibi, nec placet ulli.   

Cumque Opere in proprio soleat se pingere Pictor,  
(Prolem adeo sibi ferre parem Natura suevit) 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.    

Proderit imprimis Pictori 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉;  
Ut data quae genio colat, abstineatque negat is.   

Fructibus utque suus nunquam est sapor at que venustas  
Floribus insueto in fundo praecoce sub anni  
Tempore, quos cultus violentus & ignis adegit;  
Sic nunquam nimio quae sunt extorta labore,  
Et picta invito Genio, nunquam illa placebunt.   

Vera super meditando, 
Quod ment●● conceperis manu comproba.  Manus, Labor improbus adsit:  
Nec tamen obtundat Genium, mentisque vigorem.   

Optima nostrorum pars matutina dierum, 
Matutinum tempus Labori aptum.   
Difficili hanc igitur potiorem impende Labori.   

Nulla dies abeat quin linea ducta supersit. 
Singulis diebus aliquid faciendum.   
Perque vias vultus hominum, motusque notabis  
Libertate sua proprios, 
Affectus inobservati & naturales.  positasque Figuras  
Ex sese faciles, ut inobservatus habebis.   

Mox quodcumque Mari, 
Non desint ●●ugillares.  Terris & in Aëre pulchrum  
Contigerit, Chartis propera mandare paratis,  
Dum praesens animo species tibi fervet hianti.   

Non epulis nimis indulget Pictura, meroque  
Parcit, Amicorum quantum ut sermone benigno  
Exhaustum reparet mentem recreata, sed inde  
Litibus & curis in Coelibe libera vita  
Secessus procul à turba strepituque remotos  
Villarum rurisque beata silentia quaerit:  
Namque recollecto tota incumbente Minerva  
Ingenio rerum species praesentior extat,  
Commodiusque Operis compagem amplectitur omnem.   

Infami tibi non potior sit avara peculî  
Cura, aurique fames, modicâ quam sorte beato  
Nominis aeterni & laudis pruritus habendae,  
Condignae pulchrorum Operum mercedis in aevum.   

judicium, docile Ingenium, Cor nobile, Sensus  
Sublimes, firmum Corpus, florensque juventa,  
Commoda Res, Labor, Artis amor, doctusque Magister;   

Et quamcumque voles occasio porrigat ansam,  
Ni Genius quidam adfuerit Sydusque benignum,  
Dotibus his tantis, nec adhuc Ars tantaparatur:   

Distat ab Ingenio longè Manus. Optima Doctis  
Censentur quae prava minus; latet omnibus error,  
Vitaque tam longae brevior non sufficit Arti;  
Desinimus nam posse senes cum scire periti  
Incipimus, doctamque Manum gravat aegra senectus,  
Nec gelidis fervet juvenilis in Artubus ardor.   

Quare agite, ô juvenes, placido quos Sydere natos  
Paciferae studia allectant tranquilla Minervae,  
Quosque suo fovet igne, sibique optavit Alumnos!  
Eja agite, atque animis ingentem ingentibus Artem  
Exercete alacres, dum strenua corda juventus  
Viribus extimulat vegetis, patiensque laborum est;  
Dum vacua errorum nulloque imbuta sapore  
Pura nitet mens, & rerum sitibunda novarum  
Praesentes haurit species, atque humida servat.   


Ordo Studiorum.  In Geometrali prius Arte parumper adulti  
Signa Antiqua super Graïorum addiscite formam;  
Nec mora nec requies, noctuque diuque labori  
Illorum Menti atque Modo, vos donec agendi  
Praxis ab assiduo faciles assueverit usu.   

Mox ubi judicium emensis adoleverit annis  
Singula quae celebrant primae Exemplaria classis  
Romani, Veneti, Parmenses, atque Bononi  
Partibus in cunctis pedetentim atque ordine recto,  
Ut monitum suprà est vos expendisse juvabit.   

Hos apud invenit Raphael miracula summo  
Ducta modo, Veneresque habuit quas nemo deinceps.  
Quidquid erat formae scivit Bonarota potenter.   

Iulius à puero Musarum eductus in Antris  
Aonias reseravit opes, Graphicaque Poësi  
Quae non visa prius, sed tantùm audita Poëtis  
Ante oculos spectanda dedit Sacraria Phoebi:  
Quaeque coronatis complevit bella triumphis  
Heroüm fortuna potens, casusque decoros  
Nobilius reipsa antiqua pinxisse videtur.   

Clarior ante alios Corregius extitit, ampla  
Luce superfusa circum coëuntibus Umbris,  
Pingendique Modo grandi, & tractando Colore  
Corpora. Amicitiamque, gradusque, dolosque Colorum,  
Compagemque ita disposuit Titianus, ut inde  
Divus appellatus, magnis sit honoribus auctus  
Fortunaeque bonis: Quos sedulus Annibal omnes  
In propriam mentem atque Modum mira arte coegit.   

Plurimus inde labor Tabulas imitando juvabit  
Egregias, 
Natura & Experientia Artem perficiunt.  Operumque Typos; sed plura docebit  
Natura ante oculos praesens; nam firmat & auget  
Vim Genii, ex illaque Artem Experientia complet.  
Multa supersileo quae commentaria dicent.   

Haec ego, dum memoror subitura volubilis aevi  
Cuncta vices, variisque olim peritura ruinis,  
Pauca Sophismata sum Graphica immortalibus ausus  
Credere Pieriis. Romae meditatus: ad Alps  
Dum super insanas moles inimicaque castra  
Borbonidum decus & vindex Lodoicus Avorum  
Fulminat ardenti dextrâ, Patriaeque resurgens  
Gallicus Alcides, premit Hispani ora Leonis.    

THE Art of Painting  
* PAinting and Poesy are two Sisters, which are so like in all things, 
The Passages which you see marked with an Asterism * are more amply explained in the Remarks.  that they mutually lend to each other both their Name and Office. One is called a dumb Poesy, and the other a speaking Picture. The Poets have never said any thing but what they believed would please the Ears. And it has been the constant endeavour of the Painters to give pleasure to the Eyes. In short, those things which the Poets have thought unworthy of their Pens, the Painters have judged to be unworthy of their Pencils. * For both of them, that they might contribute all within their power to the sacred Honours of Religion, have raised themselves to Heaven, and, having found a free admission into the Palace of jove himself, have enjoyed the sight and conversation of the Gods; whose Majesty they observe, and contemplate the wonders of their Discourse; in order to relate them to Mankind; whom at the same time they inspire with those Celestial flames, which shine so gloriously in their Works. From Heaven they take their passage through the world; and are neither sparing of their pains nor of their study to collect whatsoever they find worthy of them. * They dive (as I may say) into all past Ages; and search their Histories, for Subjects which are proper for their use: with care avoiding to treat of any but those which, by their nobleness, or by some remarkable accident, have deserved to be consecrated to Eternity; whether on the Seas, or Earth, or in the Heavens. And by this their care and study it comes to pass, that the glory of Heroes is not extinguished with their lives: and that those admirable works, those prodigies of skill, which even yet are the objects of our admiration, are still preserved. * So much these Divine Arts have been always honoured: and such authority they preserve amongst Mankind. It will not here be necessary to implore the succour of Apollo, and the Muses: for the gracefulness of the Discourse, or for the Cadence of the Verses: which containing only Precepts, have not so much need of Ornament, as of Perspicuity.  
I pretend not in this Treatise to tie the hands of Artists, whose skill consists only in a certain practice, or manner which they have affected; and made of it as it were a Common Road. Neither would I stifle the Genius by a jumbled heap of Rules: nor extinguish the fire of a vein which is lively and abundant. But rather to make this my business, that Art being strengthened by the knowledge of things, may at length pass into Nature by slow degrees; and so in process of time may be sublimed into a pure Genius which is capable of choosing judiciously what is true; and of distinguishing betwixt the beauties of Nature, and that which is low and mean in her; and that this Original Genius by long exercise and customs, may perfectly possess all the Rules and Secrets of that Art.  
* The principal and most important part of Painting, 
Precept I. Of what is Beautiful.  is to find out and thoroughly to understand what Nature has made most beautiful, and most proper to this Art; * and that a choice of it may be made according to the gust and manner of the Ancients, * without which all is nothing but a blind, and rash barbarity; which rejects what is most beautiful, and seems with an audacious insolence to despise an Art, of which it is wholly ignorant; which has occasioned these words of the Ancients: That no man is so bold, so rash, and so overweening of his own works, as an ill Painter, and a bad Poet, who are not conscious to themselves of their own Ignorance.  
* We love what we understand; we desire what we love; we pursue the enjoyment of those things which we desire; and arrive at last to the possession of what we have pursued, if we constantly persist in our Design. In the mean time, we ought not to expect that blind Fortune should infallibly throw into our hands those Beauties: For though we may light by chance on some which are true and natural, yet they may prove either not to be decent or not to be ornamental. Because it is not sufficient to imitate Nature in every circumstance, dully, and as it were literally, and meanly; but it becomes a Painter to take what is most beautiful, * as being the Sovereign Judge of his own Art; and that by the progress which he has made, he may understand how to correct his errors, and * permit no transient Beauties to escape his observation.  
* In the same manner, that bare practice, 
Of Theory, and Practice.  destitute of the Lights of Art, is always subject to fall into a precipice like a blind Traveller, without being able to produce any thing which contributes to a solid reputation: So the speculative part of Painting, without the assistance of manual operation, can never attain to that perfection which is its object: But sloathfully languishes as in a Prison: for it was not with his Tongue that Apelles performed his Noble Works. Therefore though there are many things in Painting, of which no precise rules are to be given (* because the greatest Beauties cannot always be expressed for want of terms) yet I shall not omit to give some Precepts which I have selected from among the most considerable which we have received from Nature, that exact School-mistress, after having examined her most secret recesses, as well as * those Master pieces of Antiquity, which were the first Examples of this Art: And, 'tis by this means that the mind, and the natural disposition are to be cultivated; and that Science perfects Genius, * and also moderates that fury of the fancy, which cannot contain itself within the bounds of Reason; but often carries a man into dangerous extremes: For there is a mean in all things; and a certain measure, wherein the good and the beautiful consist; and out of which they never can depart.  
This being premised, the next thing is to make choice of * a Subject beautiful and noble; 
Concerning the Subject.  which being of itself capable of all the charms and graces, that Colours, and the elegance of Design can possibly give, shall afterwards afford, to a perfect and consummate Art, an ample field of matter wherein to expatiate itself; to exert all its power, and to produce somewhat to the sight which is excellent, judicious, * and well seasoned; and at the same time proper to instruct, and to enlighten the Understanding.  
Thus at length I enter into the Subject-matter of my Discourse; and at first find only a bare strained Canvas: * on which the whole Machine (as it may be called) of the Picture is to be disposed; and the imagination of a powerful, and easy Genius; * which is what we properly call Invention.  
* INVENTION is a kind of Muse, 
Invention the first part of Painting.  which being possessed of the other advantages common to her Sisters; and being warmed by the fire of Apollo, is raised higher than the rest, and shines with a more glorious, and brighter flame.  
* 'Tis the business of a Painter, 
The Disposition or Oeconomy of the whole Work.  in his choice of Postures, to foresee the effect, and harmony of the Lights and Shadows, with the Colours which are to enter into the whole; taking from each of them, that which will most conduce to the production of a beautiful Effect.  
* Let your Compositions be conformable to the Text of Ancient Authors, 
The faithfulness of the Subject.  to Customs, and to Times.  
* Take care that whatsoever makes nothing to your Subject, 
Whatsoever palls the Subject to be rejected.  and is improper to it, be not admitted into your Work, or not possess the chief place in it. But on this occasion, imitate the Sister of Painting, Tragedy: which employs the whole ●●orces of her Art in the main Action.  
* This part of Painting, so rarely met with, and so difficult to be found, is neither to be acquired by pains or study, nor by the Precepts or Counsels of any Master. For they alone who have been inspired at their birth with some portion of that Heavenly fire * which was stolen by Prometheus, are capable of receiving so divine a present. As the Proverb tells us, * that it happens not to every one to see Corinth.  
Painting first appeared in Egypt: but wholly different from the truth, till having travelled into Greece, and being cultivated by the Study, and sublime Genius of that Nation, * it arrived at length to that height of perfection, that it seemed to surpass even Original nature.  
Amongst the Academies, which were composed by the rare Genius of those Great men, these four are reckoned as the principal: namely, the Athenian School, that of Sicyon, that of Rhodes, and that of Corinth. These were little different from each other, only in the manner of their work; as it may be seen by the Ancient Statues, which are the Rule of Beauty, and to which succeeding Ages have nothing that is equal: * Though they are not very much inferior either in Science, or in the manner of their Execution.  
* A Posture therefore must be chosen according to their gusto: 
Design, the second part of Painting.  * The Parts of it must be great * and large, * unequal in their position, so that those which are before must contrast (or oppose) those others which are hindermost, and all of them be equally balanced on their Centre.  
* The Parts must have their out-lines in waves resembling flames, or the gliding of a Snake upon the ground: They must be smooth, they must be great, they must be almost imperceptible to the touch, and even, without either Eminences or Cavities. They must be drawn from far, and without breaks, to avoid the multiplicity of lines. Let the Muscles be well inserted and bound together * according to the knowledge of them which is given us by Anatomy. Let them be * designed after the manner of the Grecians: and let them appear but little, according to what we see in the Ancient Figures. In fine, * let there be a perfect relation betwixt the parts and the whole, that they may be entirely of a piece.  
Let the part which produces another part, be more strong than that which it produces; and let the whole be seen by one point of Sight. * Though Perspective cannot be called a certain rule or a finishing of the Picture, yet it is a great Succour and Relief to Art, and facilitates the means of Execution; Yet frequently falling into Errors, and making us behold things under a false Aspect; for Bodies are not always represented according to the Geometrical plane, but such as they appear to the Sight.  
Neither the Shape of Faces, nor the Age, nor the Colour ought to be alike in all Figures, 
Variety in the Figures.  any more than the Hair: because Men are as different from each other, as the Regions in which they are born, are different.  
* Let every Member be made for its own head, 
The Member●●s and Drapery of every Figure to be suitable to it.  and agree with it. And let all together compose but one Body, with the Draperies which are proper and suitable to it. And above all, let the Figures to which Art cannot give a voice, imitate the Mutes in their Actions. 
The Actions of Mutes to be imitated.   
* Let the principal Figure of the Subject appear in the middle of the Piece under the strongest Light, 
Of the principal Figure of the Subject.  that it may have somewhat to make it more remarkable than the rest, and that the Figures which accompany it, may not steal it from our Sight.  
* Let the Member be combined in the same manner as the Figures are, 
Grouppes of Figures.  that is to say, coupled and knit together, And let the Grouppes be separated by a void space, to avoid a confused heap; which proceeding from parts that are dispersed without any Regularity, and entangled one within another, divides the Sight into many Rays, and causes a disagreeable Confusion.  
* The Figures in the Grouppes, 
The diversity of postures in the Grouppes.  ought not to be like each other in their Motions, any more than in their Parts: nor to be all on the same side, but let them contrast each other: bearing themselves on the one side, in Opposition to those which are set against them on the other.  
Amongst many Figures which show their foreparts let there be some one whose hinder parts may be seen; opposing the Shoulders to the Stomach, and the right side to the left.  
* One side of the Picture must not be void, 
Equality of the piece.  while the other is filled to the Borders; but let matters be so well disposed, that if one side of the Piece be full, the Painter shall find some occasion to fill the other; so that they shall appear in some sort equal whether there be many Figures in it, or but few.  
* As a Play is very seldom good, 
Of the number of Figures.  in which there are too many Actors, so 'tis very seldom seen and almost impossible to perform, that a Picture should be perfect in which there are too great a number of Figures. And we cannot wonder that so few Painters have succeeded who have introduced into their works many Figures. Because indeed there are not many Painters to be found, who have succeeded happily, when even they have introduced but few. Many dispersed Objects breed confusion, and take away from the Picture that grave Majesty, that soft silence and repose, which give beauty to the Piece, and satisfaction to the sight. But if you are constrained by the subject, to admit of many figures, you must then conceive the whole together; and the effect of the work at one view; and not every thing separately and in particular.  
* The extremities of the joints must be seldom hidden, 
Of the Joints and Feet.  and the extremities or end of the Feet never. 
The motions of the hands and head must agree.   
* The Figures which are behind others, have neither Grace nor Vigour, unless the Motions of the hands accompany those of the Head.  
Avoid the views which are difficult to be found, 
What must be avoided in the distribution of the Figures.  and are not natural, as also forced Actions and Motions. Show no parts which are ungracious to the Sight, as all fore shortenings, usually are.  
* Avoid also those Lines and Out-lines which are equal; which make Parallels, or other sharp pointed and Geometrical Figures; such as are Squares and Triangles: all which by being too exact give to the Eye a certain displeasing Symmetry, which produces no good effect. But as I have already told you, the principal Lines ought to contrast each other: For which reason in these out-lines, you ought to have a special regard to the whole together: for 'tis from thence that the Beauty and Force of the parts proceed.  
* Be not so strictly tied to Nature, 
That we must not tie ourselves to Nature, but accommodate her to our Genius.  that you allow nothing to study, and the bent of your own Genius. But on the other side, believe not that your Genius alone, and the Remembrance of those things which you have seen, can afford you wherewithal to furnish out a beautiful Piece, without the Succour of that incomparable School-mistress, Nature; * whom you must have always present as a witness to the Truth. We may make a thousand Errors of all kinds; they are everywhere to be found, and as thick set as Trees in Forests, and amongst many ways which misled a Traveller, there is but one true one which conducts him surely to his Journey's end; as also there are many several sorts of crooked lines; but there is one only which is strait.  
Our business is to imitate the Beauties of Nature, 
Ancient Figures the rules of imitating Nature.  as the Ancients have done before us, and as the Object and Nature of the thing require from us. And for this reason we must be careful in the search of Ancient Medals, Statues, Vases and Basso Relievoes: * And of all other things which discover to us the Thoughts and Inventions of the Grecians; because they furnish us with great Ideas, and make our Productions wholly beautiful. And in truth after having well examined them, we shall therein find so many Charms, that we shall pity the Destiny of our present Age without hope of ever arriving at so high a point of Perfection.  
* If you have but one single Figure to work upon, 
A single Figure how to be treated.  you ought to make it perfectly finished and diversified and with many Colours.  
* Let the Draperies be nobly spread upon the Body; let the Folds be large, 
Of the Draperies.  * and let them follow the order of the parts, that they may be seen underneath, by means of the Lights and Shadows, notwithstanding that the parts should be often traversed (or crossed) by the flowing of the Folds which loosely encompass them, * without sitting too strait upon them, but let them mark the parts which are under them, so as in some manner to distinguish them, by the judicious ordering of the Lights and Shadows. * And if the parts be too much distant from each other, so that there be void spaces, which are deeply shadowed, we are then to take occasion to place in those voids some Fold to make a joining of the parts. * And as the Beauty of the Limbs consists not in the quantity and rising of the Muscles, but on the contrary, those which are less eminent have more of Majesty than the others; in the same manner the beauty of the Draperies, consists not in the multitude of the folds, but in their natural order, and plain simplicity. The quality of the persons is also to be considered in the Drapery. * As supposing them to be Magistrates, their Draperies ought to be large and ample: If Country Clowns or Slaves they ought to be course and short: * If Ladies or Damsels, light and soft. 'Tis sometimes requisite to draw out, as it were from the hollows and deep shadows, some Fold, and give it a Swelling, that receving the Light, it may contribute to extend the clearness to those places where the Body requires it; and by this means we shall disburden the pie●●e of those hard Shadowing which are always ungraceful.  
* The Marks or Ensigns of Virtues contribute not little by their nobleness to the Ornament of the Figures. Such, 
What things contribute to adorn the Picture.  for example as are the Decorations belonging to the Liberal Arts, to War or Sacrifices. * But let not the work be too much enriched with Gold or Jewels, 
Of precious Stones and Pearls for ornament.  because the rarest are ever the dearest and most precious; and those which serve only to increase the number, are of the common sort, and of little value.  
* 'Tis very expedient to make a Model of those things, 
The Model.  which we have not in our Sight, and whose Nature is difficult to be retained in the Memory.  
* We are to consider the places, where we lay the scene of the Picture; the Countries where they were born whom we represent; the manner of their Actions, 
The Scene of the Picture.  their Laws and Customs, and all that is properly belonging to them.  
* Let a nobleness and grace be remarkable through all your work. But to confess the truth, 
The Graces and the Nobleness.  this is a most difficult undertaking; and a very rare Present which the Artist receives rather from the hand of Heaven, than from his own Industry and Studies.  
In all things you are to follow the order of Nature, 
Let every thing be set in its proper place.  for which reason you must beware of drawing or painting Clouds, Winds and Thunder towards the bottom of your Piece; and Hell, and Waters, in the uppermost parts of it: You are not to place a Stone Column on a ●●oundation of Wood; but let every thing be set in its proper place.  
Besides all this, you are to express the motions of the Spirits, 
Of the Passions.  and the affections or Passions whose Centre is the Heart: In a word, to make the Soul visible, by the means of some few Colours; * this is that in which the greatest difficulty consists. Few there are whom jupiter regards with a favourable eye in this Undertaking. So that it appertains only to those few, who participate somewhat of Divinity itself, to work these mighty Wonders. 'Tis the business of Rhetoricians, to treat the characters of the Passions: and I shall content myself with repeating what an excellent Master has formerly said on this Subject, That the studied motions of the Soul, are never so natural as those, which are as it were struck out of it on the sudden by the heat and violence of a real Passion.  
We are to have no manner of relish for Gothique Ornaments, 
Gothique Ornaments are to be avoided.  as being in effect so many Monsters, which barbarous Ages have produced: during which, when Discord and Ambition caused by the too large extent of the Roman Empire, had produced Wars, Plagues and Famine through the World, than I say, the stately Buildings fell to Ruin, and the nobleness of all beautiful Arts was totally extinguished; then it was that the admirable and almost supernatural Works of Painting were made fuel for the Fire: But that this wonderful Art might not wholly perish, * some Relics of it took Sanctuary under ground, and thereby escaped the common Destiny. And in the same profane age, the noble Sculpture was for a long time buried under the same Ruins, with all its beautiful Productions and admirable Statues. The Empire in the mean time under the weight of its proper Crimes and undeserving to enjoy the day, was invelop'd with a hideous night, which plunged it into an Abyss of errors, and covered with a thick darkness of Ignorance those unhappy Ages, in just revenge of their Impieties: From hence it comes to pass, that the works of those great Grecians are wanting to us; nothing of their Painting and Colouring now remains to assist our modern Artists, either in the Invention, or the manner of those Ancients; neither is there any man who is able to restore * the CHROMATIQUE part or COLOURING, 
Colouring the third part of Painting.  or to renew it to that point of excellency to which it had been carried by Zeuxis: who by this part which is so charming, so magical, and which so admirably deceives the sight, made himself equal to the great Apelles, that Prince of Painters; and deserved that height of reputation which he still possesses in the World.  
And as this part which we may call the Soul of Painting and its utmost perfection, is a deceiving Beauty, but withal soothing and pleasing: So she has been accused of procuring Lovers for * her Sister, and artfully engaging us to admire her. But so little have this Prostitution, these false Colours, and this Deceit, dishonoured Painting, that on the contrary, they have only served to set forth her Praise, and to make her merit farther known, and therefore it will be profitable to us, to have a more clear understanding of what we call Colouring.  
* The light produces all kinds of Colours, and the Shadow gives us none. The more a Body is nearer to the Eyes, and the more directly it is opposed to them, the more it is enlightened. Because the Light languishes and lessens the farther it removes from its proper Source.  
The nearer the Object is to the Eyes, and the more directly it is opposed to them, the better it is seen, because the Sight is weakened by distance.  
'Tis therefore necessary that round Bodies, 
〈…〉  which are seen one over against the other in a right Angle, should be of a livery and strong Colouring, and that the extremities turn, in losing themselves insensibly and confusedly, without precipitating the Light all on the sudden into the Shadow; or the Shadow into the Light. But the passage of one into the other must be common and imperceptible, that is by degrees of Lights into Shadows and of Shadows into Lights. And it is in conformity to these Principles that you ought to treat a whole Grouppe of Figures, though it be composed of several parts, in the same manner as you would do a single Head: or if your Composition requires, that you should have two Grouppes, or even three (* which ought to be the most) in your Piece, take heed that they may be detached, that is separated or distinguished from each other by the Colours, the Lights and the Shadows, which are so dextrously to be managed, * that you may make the Bodies appear enlightened by the Shadows which bound the sight; which permit it not suddenly to go farther; and which cause it to repose for some space of time, and that reciprocally the Shadows may be made sensible by enlightening your ground.  
The raising and roundness of a Body, aught to be given it * in the same manner as we behold it in a Convex Mirror, in which we view the Figures and all other things, which bear out with more Life and strength than Nature itself. * And let those which turn, be of broken Colours, as being less distinguished, and nearer to the borders.  
Thus the Painter and the Sculptor, are to work with one and the same intention, and with one and the same conduct. For what the Sculptor strikes off, and makes round with his instrument of Steel, the Painter performs with his Pencil; casting behind, that which he makes less visible by the Diminution, and breaking of his Colours; and drawing forward by his most lively Colours and strongest Shadows, that which is directly opposed to the Sight, as being more sensible, and more distinguished, and at last enriching the naked Canvas, with such Colours as are borrowed from Nature; in the midst of which he seems to sit; and from thence with one glance of 〈◊〉 and without removing his seat, he takes 〈◊〉 part of her which she represents to his Sight, and turns as in a Machine about his work.  
When solid Bodie●●, 
Of dark Bodies on light grounds.  sensible to the feeling, and dark, are placed on Light, and transparent grounds, as for example, The Heavens, the Clouds and Waters, and every other thing which is in Motion, and void of different Objects, they ought to be more rough and more distinguishable than that with which they are encompassed, that being strengthened by the Lights and Shadows, or by the more sensible Colours, they may subsist and preserve their Solidity amongst those aereal and transparent Species, and that on the contrary those grounds which are, as we have said, the Sky, the clouds and the Waters being clearer and more united, may be thrown off from the Sight to a farther distance.  
We are never to admit two equal Lights in the same Picture; 
〈…〉  but the greater Light must strike forcibly on the middle; and there extend its greatest clearness on those places of the Picture, where the principal Figures of it are, and where the strength of the action is performed, diminishing by degrees as it comes nearer and nearer to the Borders; and after the same manner that the Light of the Sun languishes insensibly in its spreading from the East, from whence it begins, towards the West where it decays and vanishes; so the Light of the Picture being distributed over all the Colours, will become less sensible the farther it is removed from its Original.  
The experience of this is evident in those Statues which we see set up in the midst of Public Places, whose upper parts are more enlightened than the lower; and therefore you are to imitate them in the distribution of your Lights.  
Avoid strong Shadows on the middle of the Limbs; lest the great quantity of black which composes those Shadows, should seem to enter into them and to cut them: Rather take care to place those shadowings round about them, thereby to heighten the parts, and take so advantageous Lights, that after great Lights, great Shadows may succeed. And therefore Titian said, with reason that he knew no better rule for the distribution of the Lights and shadows, than his Observations drawn from a * Bunch of Grapes.  
* Pure or unmixed white either draws an object nearer, 
Of White and Black.  or carries it off to farther distance: It draws it nearer with black, and throws it backward without it. * But as for pure black, there is nothing which brings the object nearer to the Sight.  
The light being altered by some Colour, never fails to communicate somewhat of that Colour to the Bodies on which it strikes, and the same effect is performed by the Medium of Air, through which it passes.  
The Bodies which are close together, 
The reflection of Colours.  receive from each other that Colour which is opposite to them 〈◊〉 and reflect on each other that which is natur●● and properly their own.  
'Tis also consonant to reason, 
〈…〉  〈…〉 part of those Bodies which are under a Light, 〈◊〉 is extended and distributed equally through all, should participate of each others Colours. The Venetian School having a great regard for that Maxim (which the Ancients called the Breaking of Colours) in the quantity of Figures with which they fill their Pictures, have always endeavoured the Union of Colours, for fear that being too different, they should come to encumber the Sight by their confusion with their quantity of Members separated by their Folds, which are also in great number; and for this reason they have painted their Draperies with Colours that are nearly related to each other, and have scarce distinguished them any other way, than by the Diminution of the Lights and Shadows joining the contiguous Object by the participation of their Colours, and thereby making a kind of Reconciliation or Friendship betwixt the Lights and Shadows.  
The less aereal space which there is betwixt us and the Object, 
Of the Interposition of Air.  and the more pure the Air is, by so much the more the Species are preserved and distinguished; and on the contrary the more space of Air there is, and the less it is pure, so much the more the Object is confused and embroiled.  
Those objects which are placed foremost to the view, 
The relation of Distances.  ought always to be more finished, than those which are cast behind; and aught to have dominion over those things which are confused and transient. * But let this be done relatively, (viz.) one thing greater and stronger, casting the less behind and rendering it less sensible by its opposition.  
Those things which are removed to a distant view, 
Of Bodies which are distanced.  though they are many, yet aught to make but one Mass; as for example the Leaves on the Trees, and the Billows in the Sea.  
Let not the Objects which ought to be contiguous be separated, 
Of Bodies which are contiguous, and of those which are separated.  and let those which ought to be separated be apparently so to us; but let this be done by a small and pleasing difference.  
* Let two contrary extremities never touch each other, 
Contrary extremities to be avoided.  either in Colour or in Light, but let there always be a Medium partaking both of the one and of the other.  
Let the Bodies everywhere be of different Tones and Colours; that those which are behind may be tied in Friendship together, 
Diversity of Tones and Colours.  and that those which are foremost may be strong and lively.  
* 'Tis labour in vain to paint a High-noon, or Midday light in your picture, 
The choice of Light.  because we have no Colours which can sufficiently express it, but 'tis better counsel, to choose a weaker light; such as is that of the Evening, with which the Fields are gilded by the Sun; or a Morning-light, whose whiteness is allayed: or that which appears after a Shower of Rain, which the Sun gives us through the breaking of a Cloud: or during Thunder, when the Clouds hide him from our view, 
Of certain things relating to the practical part.  and make the light appear of a fiery colour.  
Smooth bodies, such as Crystals, polished Metals, Wood, Bones, and stones; those which are covered with Hair, as Skins, the Beard, or the Hair of the Head; as also Feathers, Silks, and the Eyes, which are of a watery nature; and those which are liquid, as Waters, and those corporeal species, which we see reflected by them; and in fine, all that which touches them, or is near them, aught to be much painted and unitedly on their lower parts, but touched boldly above by the light and shadows which are proper to them.  
* Let the Field, or Ground of the Picture, 
The field or ground of the Picture.  be clean, free, transient, light, and well united with Colours which are of a friendly nature to each other; and of such a mixture, as there may be something in it of every colour that composes your work, as it were the contents of your Palette. And let the bodies mutually partake of the colour of their ground.  
* Let your Colours be lively, and yet not look (according to the Painter's Proverb) as if they had been rubbed or sprinkled with meal: that is to say, 
Of the vivacity of Colours.  let them not be pale.  
* Let the parts which are nearest to us, and most raised, be strongly coloured, and as it were sparkling; and let those parts which are more remote from sight, and towards the borders, be more faintly touched.  
* Let there be so much harmony, or consent, 
Of Shadows.  or consent, in the Masses of the Picture, that all the shadowings may appear as if they were but one.  
Let the whole Picture be made of one piece, 
The Picture to be of one piece.  and avoid as much as possibly you can, to paint drily.  
* The Looking-glass will instruct you in many Beauties, 
The Looking-glass the Painter's best Master.  which you may observe from Nature: so will also those objects which are seen in an Evening in a large prospect.  
If you are to paint a half figure or a whole one, 
An half figure, or a whole one, before others.  which is to be set before the other figures, it must be placed nearer to the view, and next the light. And if it is to be painted, in a great place, and at a distance from the Eyes; be sure on that occasion not to be sparing of great lights, the most lively colours, nor the strongest shadows.  
* As for a Portrait, or Pictures by the Life, 
A Portrait.  you are to work precisely after Natu●●e, and to express what she shows you, working at the same time on those parts which are resembling to each other: As for example, the Eyes, the Cheeks, the Nostrils and the Lips: so that you are to touch the one, as soon as you have given a stroke of the Pencil to the other, lest the interruption of time cause you to lose the Idea of one Part, which Nature has produced to resemble the other: and thus imitating Feature for Feature with a just and harmonious Composition of the lights and shadows, and of the colours, and giving to the Picture that liveliness which the freedom and force of the Pencil make appear, it may seem the living hand of Nature.  
The works which are painted to be seen in little or narrow places, 
The place of the Picture.  must be very tender and well united with tones, and colours; the degrees of which ought to be more different, more unequal, and more strong and vigorous, as the work is more distant: and if you make great figures, let them be strongly coloured, and in very spacious places.  
* You are to paint the most tenderly that possibly you can; 
Large Lights.  and endeavour to lose insensibly the * large lights in the shadows which succeed them, and encompass them about.  
If the Picture be set in a place which is enlightened, 
What Lights are requisite.  but with a little light, the colours must be very clear; as on the contrary very brown, if the place be strongly enlightened, or in the open Air.  
Remember to avoid objects which are full of hollows, 
Things which are vicious in painting to be avoided.  broken in pieces, little, and which are separated, or in parcels: eat also those things which are barbarous, shocking to the Eye and particoloured, and all which is of an equal force of light and shadow: as also all things which are obscene, impudent, filthy, unseemly, cruel, fantastical, poor and wretched; those things which are sharp and rough to the feeling: In short, all things which corrupt their natural forms, by a confusion of their parts which are entangled in each other: For the Eyes have a horror for those things which the Hands will not condescend to touch.  
But while you endeavour to avoid one vice, 
The prudential part of a Painter.  be cautious lest you fall into another: for Virtue is placed betwixt two extremes, which are on both sides equally unblamable.  
Those things which are beautiful in the utmost degree of Perfection, 
The Idea of a beautiful piece.  according to the Axiom of ancient Painters, * aught to have somewhat of greatness in them; and their out-lines to be noble: they must be disintangled, pure and without alteration, clean and knit together; composed of great parts, yet those but few in number. In fine, distinguished by bold Colours; but of such as are related, and friendly to each other: And as it is a common saying, that He who has begun well, 
Advice to a young Painter.  has already performed half his work; so * there is nothing more pernicious to a Youth, who is yet in the Elements of Painting, than to engage himself under the discipline of an ignorant Master; who depraves his taste, by an infinite number of mistakes; of which his wretched works are full, and thereby makes him drink the poison, which infects him through all his future life.  
Let him who is yet but a Beginner, not make so much haste to study after Nature, every thing which he intends to imitate; as not in the mean time to learn Proportions, the connexion of the parts, and their out-lines: And let him first have well examined the Excellent Originals, and have thoroughly studied all the sweet deceits of his Art, which he must be rather taught by a knowing Master, than by practice; and by seeing him perform, without being contented only to hear him speak.  
* Search whatsoever is aiding to your Art, 
Art must be subservient to the Painter.  and convenient, and avoid those things which are repugnant to it.  
* Bodies of divers natures which are aggrouped (or combined) together, 
Diversity and facility are pleasing.  are agreeable and pleasant to the sight; * as also those things which appear to be performed with ease. Because they are ever full of Spirit, and seem animated with a kind of Celestial fire: But we are not able to compass these things with facility, till we have for a long time weighed them in our judgement, and thoroughly considered them: By this means the Painter shall be enabled to conceal the pains, and study which his Art and work have cost him, under a pleasing sort of deceit: For the greatest secret which belongs to Art, is to hide it from the discovery of Spectators.  
Never give the least touch with your Pencil till you have well examined your Design, and have settled your out-lines, 
The Original must be in the Head, and the Copy on the Cloth.  * nor till you have present in your mind a perfect Idea of your work.  

The Compass to be in the Eyes.  * Let the Eye be satisfied in the first place, even against and above all other reasons, which beget difficulties in your Art, which of itself suffers none; and let the compass be rather in your Eyes than in your Hands.  
* Profit yourself by the Counsels of the knowing: 
Pride an Enemy to good Painting.  And do not arrogantly disdain to learn the opinion of every man concerning your work. All men are blind as to their own productions; and no man is capable of judging in his own cause; but if you have no knowing friend, to assist you with his advice, yet length of time will never fail; 'tis but letting some weeks pass over your Head, or at least some days, without looking on your work, and that intermission will faithfully discover to you the faults, and beauties; yet suffer not yourself to be carried away by the opinions of the Vulgar, who often speak without knowledge; neither give up yourself altogether to them, and abandon wholly your own Genius, so as lightly to change that which you have made: For he who has a windy Head, and flatters himself with the empty hope of deserving the praise of the common people, whose opinions are inconsiderate, and changeable, does but injure himself and pleases no man.  
Since every Painter paints himself in his own works (so much is Nature accustomed to produce her own likeness) 'tis advantageous to him to 
Know yourself.  know himself, * to the end that he may cultivate those Talents which make his Genius, and not unprofitably lose his time in endeavouring to gain that which she has refused him. As neither Fruits have the taste, nor Flowers the beauty which is natural to them when they are transplanted in a foreign soil, and are forced to bear before their season by an artificial heart: so 'tis in vain for the Painter to sweat over his works in spite of Nature and of Genius; for without them 'tis impossible for him to succeed.  
* While you meditate on these truths, 
Perpetually practice, and do easily what you have conceived.  and observe them diligently, by making necessary reflections on them; let the labour of the Hand accompany the study of the Brain; let the former second and support the latter; yet without blunting the sharpness of your Genius; and abating of its vigour by too much assiduity.  
* The Morning is the best, 
The Morning most proper for work.  and most proper part of the day for your business; employ it therefore in the study and exercise of those things which require the greatest pains and application. 
Every day do something.   
* Let no day pass over you without a line. 
The Passions which are true and natural.   
Observe as you walk the Streets, the Airs of Heads; the natural Posturs' and Expressions; which are always the most free the less they seem to be observed.  
* Be ready to put into your Table-book 
Of Table-books.  (which you must always carry about you) whatsoever you judge worthy of it; whether it be upon the Earth, or in the Air, or upon the Waters, while the Species of them is yet fresh in your Imagination.  
* Wine and good Cheer are no great Friends to painting, they serve only to recreate the Mind, when 'tis oppressed and spent with Labour; then indeed 'tis proper to renew your Vigour by the conversation of your Friends: Neither is a true Painter naturally pleased with the fatigue of business, and particularly of the Law, but delights in the liberty which belongs to the Batchelour's Estate. Painting naturally withdraws from Noise and Tumult, and pleases itself in the enjoyment of a Country Retirement: because Silence and Solitude set an edge upon the Genius, and cause a greater Application to work and study, and also serve to produce the Ideas, which, so conceived, will be always present in the M●●nd, even to the finishing of the work; the whole compass of which, the Painter can at that time more commodiously form to himself than at any other.  
* Let not the covetous design of growing rich, induce you to ruin your reputation, but rather satisfy yourself with a moderate fortune; and let your Thoughts be wholly taken up with acquiring to yourself a glorious Name, which can never perish, but with the World, and make that the recompense of your worthy Labours.  
* The qualities requisite to form an excellent Painter, are, a true discerning Judgement; a Mind which is docible, a noble Heart, a sublime Sense of things, and Fervour of Soul; after which follow, Health of Body, handsomeness, a convenient share of Fortune, Youth, Diligence, an affection for the Art, and to be bred under the discipline of a knowing Master.  
And remember, that whatsoever your Subject be, whether of your own Choice, or what chance or good fortune shall put into your hand, if you have not that Genius or natural Inclination, which your Art requires, you shall never arrive to perfection in it, even with all those great advantages which I have mentioned; for the Wit, and the manual operation are things vastly distant from each other. 'Tis the Influence of your Stars, and the happiness of your Genius, to which you must be obliged for the greatest Beauties of your Art.  
Nay, even your excellencies sometimes will not pass for such in the opinion of the learned, but only as things which have less of Error in them, for no man sees his own failings; and Life is so short, that it is not sufficient for so long an Art. Our strength fails us in our old Age, when we begin to know somewhat: Age oppresses us by the same degrees that it instructs us, and permits not that our mortal Members which are frozen with our years, should retain the Vigour and Spirits of our Youth.  
* Take courage therefore, O ye Noble Youths! you legitimate Offspring of Minerva, who are born under the influence of a happy Planet, and warmed with a Celestial Fire, which attracts you to the Love of Science; exercise while you are young, your whole forces, and employ them with delight in an Art which requires a whole Painter. Exercise them I say, while your boiling Youth supplies you with Strength, and furnishes you with Quickness and with Vigour; while your Mind, yet pure and void of Error, has not taken any ill habitude to vice, while yet your Spirits are inflamed with the Thirst of Novelties, and your Mind is filled with the first Species of things which present themselves to a young Imagination, which it gives in keeping to your Memory; and which your Memory retains for length of time, by reason of the moisture wherewith at that Age the Brain abounds: 
The method of Studies for a young Painter.  * you will do well to begin with Geometry, and after having made some progress it it, * set yourself on designing after the Ancient Greeks, * and cease not day or night from labour, till by your continual practice you have gained an easy habitude of imitating them in their invention, and in their manner. * And when afterwards your judgement shall grow stronger, and come to its maturity with years, it will be very necessary to see and examine one after the other, and part by part, those works which have given so great a Reputation to the Masters of the first form in pursuit of that Method, which we have taught you here above, and according to the Rules which we have given you; such are the Romans, the Venetians, the Parmesans, and the Bolognese. Amongst those excellent Persons, Raphael had the Talon of Invention for his share, by which he made as many Miracles as he made Pictures. In which is observed * a certain Grace which was wholly natural and peculiar to him, and which none since him have been able to appropriate to themselves. Michael Angelo possessed powerfully the part of Design, above all others. * julio Romano (educated from his childhood among the Muses) has opened to us the Treasures of Parnassus and in the Poetry of Painting has discovered to our Eyes the most sacred Mysteries of Apollo, and all the rarest Ornaments which that God is capable of commucating to those works that he inspires, which we knew not before, but only by the Recital that the Poets made of them; he seems to have painted those famous Wars which Heroes have waged, and ended with Victory over crowned Heads, whom they have led in triumph; and those other glorious Events which Fortune has caused in all ages, even with more Magnificence and Nobleness, than when they were acted in the World. Correggio has made his Memory immortal by the Strength and Vigour he has given to his Figures, and by sweetening his Lights and Shadows, and melting them into each other so happily, that they are even imperceptible. He is also almost single in the great manner of his Painting, and the Facility he had in the managing of his Colours. And Titian understood so well the Union of the Masses, and the Bodies of Colours, the Harmony of the Tones, and the Disposition of the whole together, that he has deserved those Honours, and that wealth which were heaped upon him, together with that attribute of being surnamed the Divine Painter. The laborious and diligent Annibal Carracci, has taken from all those great Persons already mentioned, whatsoever excellencies he found in them, and, as it were, converted their Nourishment into his own Substance.  
'Tis a great means of profiting yourself to copy diligently those excellent Pieces, 
Nature and Experience perfect Art.  and those beautiful designs; But Nature which is present before your Eyes, is yet a better Mistress: For she augments the Force and Vigour of the Genius, and she it is from whom Art derives her ultimate perfection by the means of sure Experience; * I pass in silence many things which will be more amply treated in the ensuing Commentary.  
And now considering that all things are subject to the vicissitude of Time, and that they are liable to Destruction by several ways, I thought I might reasonably take the boldness * to intrust to the Muses (those lovely and immortal Sisters of painting) these few Precepts which I have here made and collected of that Art.  
I employed my time in the study of this work at Rome, while the honour of the Bourbon Family, and the just Avenger of his injured Ancestors, the Victorious Lovis▪ was darting his Thunder on the Alps, and causing his Enemies to feel the force of his unconquerable Arms, while he like another Gallique Hercules, born for the benefit and Honour of his Country, was gripping the Spanish Geryon by the Throat, and at the point of strangling him.    

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.  etc. 'Tis a received 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; 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 carried 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 ourselves willingly to be deceived, both by the one, and by the other; our Eyes and Souls are so fixed to them, that we are ready to persuade ourselves 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 bestowed on them, and with which their Genius has inspired them. 
— Pictoribus atque Poetis  
Quidlibet audendi, semper fuit aequa potestas.  
Painters and Poets free from servile awe,  
May treat their Subjects, and their Objects draw.  As Horace tells us in his Art of Poetry.  
The advantage which Painting possesses above Poesy is this; That amongst so great a Diversity of Languages, she makes herself 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. 
Segnius irritant animos demissa per aurem,  
Quam quae sunt oculis commissa fidelibus.  
Hearing excites the Mind by slow degrees,  
The Man is warmed at once by what he sees.  Horace in the same Art of Poetry.  
For both of them that they might contribute, etc. 
¶ 9  Poetry by its Hymns and Anthems, and Painting by its Statues, Altar-pieces, and by all those Decorations which inspire Respect and Reverence for our Sacred Mysteries, have been serviceable to Religion. Gregory of Nice, after having made a long and beautiful 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 itself, even as if the Action were then 
¶ 24.  passing before my Sight." So much these Divine Arts have been always honoured, etc. 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 his 
* Mr. Le Brun.  chief Painter. And he has also founded an Academy for the Progress and Perfectionating of Painting, which his 
* Mr. 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 wonderful 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 established 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 through all Greece, the young Gentlemen learned 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, 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 besieged the City of Rhodes: For he was pleased to employ some part of that time, which he owed to the care of his Arms, in visiting Protogenes, who was then drawing the Picture of jalisus. This jalisus,, (says Pliny) hindered 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 pleased rather to spare the Painting, than to take the Victory which was already in his hands. Protogenes at that time had his Workhouse 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 ask him what made him so bold as to work in the midst of Enemies: He answered the King, That he understood the War which he made, was against the Rhodians and not against the Arts. This obliged Demetrius to appoint him Guards for his Security, being infinitely pleased that he could preserve that hand, which by this means he saved from the barbarity and insolence of Soldiers. Alexander had no greater pleasure, than when he was in the painting room of Apelles, where he commonly was found. And that Painter once received from him a sensible Testimony of Love and Esteem which that Monarch had for him: for having caused him to paint naked (by reason of her admirable beauty) one of his Concubines called 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 paid 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 secured from burning. They took a particular care, says Pliny, in the place above-cited, not to paint any thing against a Wall, which could only belong to one Master, and must always remain in the same place; and for that reason could not be removed in case of an accidental Fire. Men were not suffered to keep a Picture, as it were in Prison, on the Walls: It dwelled 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 filled with the praises of this Art, and with the Honours which were ascribed 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 allured out of Italy all the best Masters, that this Art might flourish in his own Kingdom. Amongst others Leonardo damn 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 adorned 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 deserved to be served by Caesar. And in the same life 'tis remarkable, That the Emperor 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 received from Charles the Fifth. It would take up too much time here to recount all the particulars: I will only observe that the greatest Lords who composed the Court of that Emperor, 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 heaped Riches on him, and whensoever he sent him Money, which, ordinarily speaking, was a great Sum, 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 infers from hence, that there is nothing more noble than the Art of Painting; because other things for the most part are Merchandise, 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 loved it with an extreme Passion, and have exercised themselves in it with delight. Amongst others, Lelius Fabius, one of those famous Romans, who, as Cicero relates, after he had tasted painting and had practised it, would be called 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 Emperors, 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 beautiful and most proper to this Art, etc. 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 itself; whether it be, that they have not seen the Ancient pieces to find those beauties; or that a happy Genius, and the beautiful Nature is not of the growth of their Country. And to confess the truth, that which is naturally beautiful is so very rare, that it is discovered by few persons; 'tis difficult to make a choice of it, and to form to ourselves such an Idea of it, as may serve us for a Model.  

¶ 39  And that a choice of it may be made according to the gust and manner of the Ancients, etc. That is to say, according to the Statues, the Basso Relievoes, and the other Ancient Pieces, as well of the Grecians 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 ruined by War. These Ancient works from their beginning have been the rule of Beauty; and in effect, the Authors of them have been so careful to give them that perfection, which is still to be observed in them, that they made use not only of one single Body, whereby they formed them, but of many, from which they took the most regular parts to compose from them a beautiful whole." The Sculptors, says Maximus Tyrius in his 7th. Dissertation, with admirable Artifice chose out of many Bodies those parts which appeared to them the most beautiful, 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 only 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 presumed, that in the choice which they made of those parts, they followed 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 healthful 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 beautiful, because they resemble the Beauties of Nature; and that Nature will ever be beautiful which resembles those Beauties of Antiquity. 'Tis now evident upon what account none have presumed 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 beautiful of all the Centaurs, 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 beautiful as the most celebrated Statues. And 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 gained 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 aught 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 workmen, or rather less good: for though their works were much inferior 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 availed himself of those Principles according to his Capacity and Genius. Those Statues were the greatest Ornaments of Greece; we need only open the Book of Pausanias to find the prodigious quantity of them, whether within or without their Temples, or in the crossing of Streets, or in the Squares and public 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 deserved a recompense; for it was the most ordinary and most authentic way, both amongst the Greeks and Romans, thus to testify their gratitude. The Romans when they had conquered Graecia, transported from thence, not only 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 confirmed by those curious Statues, those Vases, those Basso-Relievo's, and those beautiful Columns called 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; 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 only 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, etc. All that has nothing of the Ancient gust, is called a barbarous or Gothique manner, which is not conducted by any rule, but only follows a wretched fancy, which has nothing in it that is noble: we are here to observe, that Painters are not obliged 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 Sense, 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.  
It appears that Raphael made a perfect use of this conduct, and that the Lombard School have not precisely searched 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 confused Idea, which they had of what is beautiful; as for the rest, they are sufficiently licentious, excepting only Titian, who, of all the Lombard's has preserved 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 restored Painting in Germany, (not having seen any of those fair Relics of Antiquity) have retained 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 called Ancient Hangings, (a greater honour than they deserve:) these I say are esteemed beautiful by the greatest part of the World. I must acknowledge that I am amazed at so gross a stupidity, and that we of the French Nation should have so barbarous a Taste, as to take for beautiful those flat, childish and insipid Tapestries. Albert Durer, that famous Germane, who was contemporary to that Lucas, has had the like misfortune to fall into that absurd manner, because he had never seen any thing that was beautiful. 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 formed his studies according to those beautiful pieces which are seen at Rome, as the rest of us have done, he had proved the best Painter of all Italy, as he was the greatest Genius, and the most accomplished which Germany ever bore."  

¶ 45.  We love what we understand, etc. This period informs us, that though our inventions are never so good, though we are furnished 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 beautiful 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 herself 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.  

¶ 50.  As being the Sovereign judge of his own Art, etc. This word of Sovereign judge 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 easy matter. Those of that profession are so seldom endowed 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 judgement, who are men of Sense, and yet have never touched a Pencil, than of the opinion which is given by the greatest part of Painters. All Painters therefore may be called Arbiters of their own Art, but to be Sovereign Arbiters belongs only to knowing Painters.  

¶ 52.  And permit no— transient Beauties to escape his observation, etc. 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 Airs of an Assembly, upon the Sight of an unexpected and uncommon Object, some particularity of a violent Passion, some graceful Action, a Smile, a Glance of an Eye, a disdainful Look, 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, etc. 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 Rhetoric if he had not acquired 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 ourselves of all the difficulties in the road, 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 ourselves to the scorn of those who can judge of Painting, and to make it apparent ●●o the World that we have no care of our reputation. Many are of opinion, that we need only work and mind the practical part to become skilful and able Painters; and that the Theory only incumbers the mind, and ties the hand: Such Men do just like the Squirrel, who is perpetually turning the Wheel in her Cage; she runs apace and wearies herself 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 graceful 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 entangled than cleared 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 upon some sort of reason; for 'tis belonging to good ●●ence, not to go over fast when we apprehend ourselves 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 Maxims, 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 overdoing, and are so intoxicated with their work and with an earnest desire of being above all others, that they suffer themselves to be deceived 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 surpassed 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 wished 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 satisfy themselves, never are contented with their first Notions and Expressions, but are continually changing all, till nothing remains of their first Ideas. Others there are (continues he,) who dare never trust themselves, nor resolve on any thing, and who being as it were entangled 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 enamoured of all he does, or he whom nothing of his own can please. For it has happened 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 dose 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 powerful than our care and our correctness, provided we abuse not this licence, and suffer not ourselves to be deceived by it, for all our productions cannot fail to please us at the moment of their Birth, as being new to us.  
Because the greatest Beauties cannot always be experssed for want of terms, 
¶ 61.  etc. I have learned 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 judges when they admire a noble Picture, seem to be fastened 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 Masterpieces of Antiquity, which were the first Examples of this Art, etc. 
¶ 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.  etc. There is in the Latin Text, which produces only 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 possessed with a divine Fury; far from being carried into the rage of Bacchanalians, often fall into toys and trifles which are only Puerilities.  

¶ 69.  A subject beautiful and noble, etc. Painting is not only pleasing and divertising, but is also a kind of Memorial of those things which Antiquity has had the most beautiful and the noble in their kinds, replacing 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 ourselves stung with a desire of endeavouring somewhat which is like that Action there expressed, 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 interlinked, which contain, and are at the same time contained, and whose matter is equally precious and estimable.  
And well seasoned, 
¶ 72.  etc. 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 called) of the Picture is to be disposed, etc. 
¶ 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 beautiful effect, as you shall see in the fourth Precept, which is concerning the Oeconomy. This is also called 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, etc. 
¶ 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 of Painting, multiply the parts according to their pleasure; and without giving you or myself the trouble of discussing this matter, I will only tell you, that all the parts of Painting which others have named, are reducible into these three which are mentioned 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 called a Painter who does not possess them all together: In the same manner that we cannot give the name of Man to any Creature which is not composed 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 only copy and purloyn the works of others who therein employ their whole industry, and with that only Talon 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 abstained 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 show themselves. 'Tis to 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 required, 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 possessed of the other advantages common to her Sisters, etc. The Attributes of the Muses are often taken for the Muses themselves; and it is in this sense, that Invention is here called 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 finds not of himself how much Learning is necessary to animate his Genius, and to complete it. And the reason of this is, that they who have studied, have not only seen and learned many excellent things in their course of studies, but that also they have acquired 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 wonderful means of raising themselves above others, who can only creep upon the ground, or if they elevate themselves, 'tis only to fall from a higher place, because they serve themselves of other Men's Wings, neither understanding their Use nor Virtue: '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 Noblemen. So wretched is the Destiny of Painting in these later ages. By Learning 'tis not so much the knowledge of the Greek and Latin Tongue, which is here to be understood as the ●●eading of good Authors, and understanding those 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 josephus.  
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 Fountainhead 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 wonderful for giving of great Ideas; and chiefly, for such as are to be placed 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. julio Romano made his chief studies on the Marble itself.  
The Books of Medals.  
The Bas-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 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 only 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 mentioned.  
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 employed 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 called in Latin De causis corrup●●ae eloquentiae, says, That Painting resembles Fi●●e which is ●●ed by the Fuel, inflamed by Motion, and ga●●hers strength by burning: For the power of the Genius is only 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 disposed 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 mentioned. All that he can gain by it, is only 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 the 
* That is to the Eye by Diagrams and ske●●ches, etc.  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. junius in his 3d. Chapter of 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 damn Vinci (though without method;) Paulo Lomazzo, whose Book is good for the greatest part, but whose discourse is too diffusive and very tiresome. john Baptist Armenini, Franciscus junius, 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 itself 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 satisfy 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, etc. 
¶ 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 borrowed either from Learning, or from Physic, or from the Mathematics, 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 Mathematics, 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 only 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 beautiful and fine that can be employed in it. And on the contrary we may behold other Pictures ill invented, ill designed 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. 
Singula quaeque locum teneant sortita decenter.  
Set all things in their own peculiar place,  
And know that Order is the greatest Grace.   
This Precept is properly the use and application of all the rest; for which reason it requires much judgement. 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 Author) 
Comm. vetus.  had ordered 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 endued 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 only as it were by Rags and Patches.  
It may be inferred 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 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 Music to the Ears.  
There is one thing of great consequence to be observed 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 moved with it. If the Subject be mournful, 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.  etc. Take care that the Licences. 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 Poultry.  yet he encourages neither of them, to make things out of nature or verisimility; for he adds immediately after, 
But let the Bounds of Licences he fixed,  
Not things of disagreeing Natures mixed;  
Not Sweet with Sour, nor Birds with Serpents joined,  
Nor the fierce Lion with the fearful Hind.   
The Thoughts of a Man endued with good Sense are not of kin to visionary madness; Men in Fevers are only 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.  etc. 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.  etc. That is to say, Invention.  
Which was stolen by Prometheus, etc. 
¶ 89.  The Poets feign that Prometheus fromed out of Clay, so fair a Statue, that Minerva one day having long admired 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 beautiful in the Habitation of the Gods, desired leave that he might be carried thither, and being there to make his choice. The Goddess bore him thither upon her Shield, and so soon as he had perceived that all Celestial things were animated with Fire, he stole a Parcel of it, which he carried down to Earth, and applying it to the stomach of his Statue enlivened the whole Body.  
That it happens not to every one to see Corinth, 
¶ 92.  etc. 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●●.  
It arrived at length to that height of perfection, 
¶ 95.  etc. 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 appeared 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, (occasioned by the irruption of the Hunns,) Painting was totally extinguished. And if some few in the succeeding Ages strained themselves to revive it, it was rather in finding out the most glaring, gaudy 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 appeared in much Splendour 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 fruitful 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 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.  etc. 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.  etc. This is the second part of Painting, which is called Design or Drawing; as the Ancients have sought as much as possible whatsoever contributes to the making of a perfect Body, so they have diligently examined in what consists the beauty of good postures, as their works sufficiently inform us.  
The parts of it must be great, 
¶ 104.  etc. 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.  etc. To avoid the dry manner, such as is most commonly the Nature which Lucas van Leyden and Albert Durer have imitated.  
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 balanced on their Centre, etc. The Motions are never natural, when the Members are not equally balanced on their Centre: and these Members cannot be balanced 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 balanced 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 bowed on the opposite Side, so as to make an Equilibrium, and be in a Situation which is unforced. 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 Burden, 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 may many things be said which are very useful and curious, of which you may satisfy yourselves 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 only 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, etc. 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 designed in Waves: but beware lest in giving this form to the parts you do not break the Bones which sustain 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 Medici's, that of the Vatican, the two others of Borghese, and that of Flora, of the Goddess Vesta, the two Bacchus' 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, etc. This part is nothing known at present amongst our modern Painters. I have shown the profit and even the necessity of it in the Preface of a little Epitome which I have made, and which Monsieur Torrebat has Published. I 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 considered the want which they have of it; nor reflected as they ought, on its importance: contenting themselves with a certain tract, to which they have been used. But certain it is, that whoever is capable of such a thought, will never be capable of becoming a great Designer.  
Designed after the manner of the Grecians, 
¶ 113.  etc. 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.  etc. 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 Authors 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 turned with them. See those which our Author has remarked in general, on the most beautiful Statues of the Ancients. I believe them to be so much the better, as they are more conformable to those, which Vitruvius gives us, in the first Chapter of his third Book: And which he tells us, that he learned 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 allowed eight Heads to their Figures; though some of them have but ●●even. But we ordinarily divide the Figure into 
This depends on the Age & Quality of the persons. The Apollo and Venus of Medici's 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 Collar-bones are two lengths of a Nose.  
From the pit betwixt the Collar-bones, to the bottom of the Breast one Face.  

* 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 Ankle, two Faces.  
From the Ankle to the Sole of the Foot, half a Face.  
A Man, when his Arms are stretched 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 called 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 called Cubitus, with part of the Hand, contains two Faces.  
From the box of the Shoulderblade, to the pit betwixt the Collar-bones, one Face.  
If you would be satisfied in the Measures of breadth, from the extremity of one Finger to the other; so that this breadth should be equal to the length of the Body, you must observe that the boxes of the Elbows with the Humerus, and of the Humerus with the Shoulderblade, bear the proportion of half a Face, when the Arms are Stretched 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, called the Pectoral Muscle, to the middle of the Arm, four Noses.  
From the middle of the Arm to the beginning 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 would 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 own judgement, and according to the occasion which he has for them.  
Though Perspective cannot be called a certain Rule, 
¶ 117.  etc. That is to say, purely of itself, 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 observed it in their Figures, they had not wholly found their account in it. They had indeed made things more regularly true, but withal very unpleasing. There is great appearance that the Architects, and Statuaries of former times, have not found it to their purpose always; nor have followed the Geometrical Part so exactly as Perspective ordains. For He who would imitate the Frontispiece of the Rotunda according to Perspective, would be grossly deceived; 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 beautiful an effect below, when viewed 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, 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 only 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 would 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 easy declivity on the advanced 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 proposed to themselves in all their works.  
We must therefore understand Perspective, as a Science which is absolutely necessary; and which a Painter must not want: Yet without Subjecting ourselves 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.  etc. 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 withered Body. Not to habit a Hercules in Taffata; nor an Apollo in course stuff: Queens and persons of the first quality, whom you would make appear Majestical, are not to be too negligently dressed or indishabile, no more than Old men: The Nymphs are not to be overcharged 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, etc.  
Mutes having no other way of speaking (or expressing their thoughts) but only by their gestures. 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 aught to imitate them, so as to make itself understood.  
Let the principal Figure of the Subject, 
¶ 129.  etc. '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 Panegyric on Alexander the Great, and who had emply'd the strongest Figures of his Rhetoric in the praise of Bucephalus, would do quite the contrary to that which was expected from him; Because it would be believed 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 only 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 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 discerned 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 engage themselves so foolishly in long digressions, that they are forced to conclude quite another way than they began.  
Let the Members be combined in the same manner as the Figures are, 
¶ 132.  etc. 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, than your Eyes will be fully satisfied: But if on the contrary, you divide them, your Eyes will suffer by seeing them all together dispersed, or each of them in particular. All together, because the visual Rays are multiplied 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 itself at one view, to look upon many several Grapes which lie Scattered 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 observed 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.  etc. 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.  
One side of the Picture must not be void, 
¶ 145.  while the other is filled etc. This sort of Symmetry, when it appears not affected, fills the Picture pleasingly; keeps 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, etc. Annibal Caracci did not belivee that a Picture could be good, in which there were above twelve Figures. It was Albano who told our Author this, and from his mouth I had it. The Reasons which he gave were, first, That he beliveed 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 beautiful; and neither the one nor the other could possibly be in a multitude and crowd of Figures. But nevertheless, if you are constrained by the Subject: (As for Example, If you Painted the Day of judgement, the Massacre of the Innocents', a Battle, etc.) On such occasions you are to dispose things by great masses of Lights and Shadows, and union of Colours, without troubling yourself 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. 
Aemylium circa ludum, Faber imus & ungues  
Exprimet, & molles imitabitur aere capillos;  
Infelix Operis Summâ, quia ponere totum  
Nesciet.  
The meanest Sculptor in th' Emylian Square,  
Can imitate in Brass, the Nails and Hair;  
Expert in Trifles, and a cunning Fool,  
Able t' express the Parts, but not dispose the whole.  
Says Horace in his Art of Poetry.   
The Extremities of the joints must be seldom hidden, 
¶ 162.  and the Extremities or End of the Feet never, etc. 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 marked by Folds, and their shape be distinguished, they are supposed 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 avoid all occasions of dispensing with the Rule.  
The Figures which are behind others, 
¶ 164.  have neither Grace nor Vigour, etc. Raphael and julio Romano, have perfectly observed this Maxim, and Raphael especially in his last Works.  
Avoid also those Lines and Contours which are equal, 
¶ 169.  which make Parallels, etc. He means principally to speak of the Postures so ordered, that they make together those Geometrical Figures which he condemns.  
Be not so strictly tied to Nature, 
¶ 176.  etc. 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 resolved not to overcome: and in the Same manner the Libertines of Painting, have no other model but a Rhodomontado Genius, and very irragular, 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 accompanied 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 savage 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.  etc. 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 obliged not to pronounce it, till he has first consulted Nature, who is an irreproachable evidence, and who will frankly, but withal 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 Grecians, 
¶ 188.  etc. 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 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.  etc. The reason of this is, That there being nothing to attract the Sight but this only Figure, the Visual Rays will not be too much divided by the Diversity of Colours and Draperies; but only take heed to put in nothing, which shall appear too sharp or too hard; and be mindful 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, etc. As Raphael practised, 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.  etc. 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 graceful than the other.  
Without sitting too straight upon them, etc. Painter's 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 straight 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 discerned 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 hindered not from seeing through their Folds, the delicacy, of the Flesh, and the purity of the Out-lines; things which truly speaking they possessed 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 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 pleased that they deceive us; such were Titian, Paul Veronese, Tintoret, Rubens, Van Dick, 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 itself. 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 Whip-cords. '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 used those Repetitions of many Folds, yet 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 clothed 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 inferred from what I have said concerning the rule of Draperies. First, that the Ancient Sculptors had reason to clothe 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 obliged 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. See the 211th. Remark about the middle of it.  
And if the parts be too much distant from each other, 
¶ 202.  etc. '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.  etc. Raphael in the beginning of his Painting, has somewhat too much multiplied the Folds; because being with reason charmed with the graces of the Ancients, he imitated their Beauties somewhat too regularly; but having afterwards found that this quantity of Folds glittered 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 changed 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, 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 disentagled. 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, etc. Yet make not your Draperies so large that they may be big enough to clothe four or five Figures, as some there are who follow that method. And take heed that the folding be natural and so disposed, 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 advanced in age.  
If Ladies or Damsels, light and soft, 
¶ 211.  etc. By this name of Ladies, Maids, or Damsels, he means all young persons, slender, finely shaped, airy and delicate. Such as are Nymphs, and Naiads, 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 sorts of light habits as are subject to be ruffled by the Winds, which can bear many Folds; yet so that they may be freed from any hardnesses. 'Tis easy 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 observed, as in the Draperies of a Christ, of a Madonna, of a King, a Queen, or a Duchess, 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 distinguished from those of Silk, Satin from Velvets, Brocard from Embroidery, and that in one word the Eye may be deceived by the truth and the difference of the Stuffs. Take notice if you please, that the light and tender Draperies having been only given to the Female Sex, the Ancient Sculptors have avoided as much as they could to clothe 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 according to all probability ought to have been clothed: 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 passed from the Isle of Tenedos to the Trojan Shore, and surprised 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, the 
* Polydorus, Athenodorus, and Agesander, all Rhodians.  Sculptors who were Authors of this noble work had well considered, 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 judged that of Draperies to be greater, than that which was against the truth itself.  
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 Chapel of the Pope, such Draperies whose 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 Chapel, a man of the same quality, and to whom Michael Angelo ought to have given the same Draperies, if he had not been hindered by those very reasons which have been given you.  
The Marks or Ensigns of Virtues, 
¶ 215.  etc. That is to say of the Sciences and Arts. The Italians call a man a Vertuoso, who loves the noble Arts, and is a Critic in them. And amongst our French Painters, the word Vertueux, is understood in the same Signification.  
But let not the work be too much enriched with Gold or jewels, 
¶ 217.  etc. Clemens Alexandrinus relates, That Apelles having seen a Helena, 
Lib. 2. Paedag. cap. 12.  which a young Scholar of his had made and adorned with a great quantity of Golden Ornaments and jewels, said to him, My good Friend, though thou couldst not make her beautiful, at least thou hast made her rich. Besides that, these glittering things in Painting, as precious Stones prodigally strewed over the habits are destructive to each other, because they draw the Sight to several places at the same time, and that 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 presumed, that precious things are always rare. 
Plutarch.  Corinna, that learned Theban Lady, reproached Pindar, whom she had five times overcome in Poetry, that he scattered through all his works the Flowers of Parnassus too prodigally, saying to him, That men sowed 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 itself is of no strong colouring. They do also perfectly well with white and other light Colours, which are used 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 retained in the Memory, etc. As for example, the Grouppes of many Figures, the Postures difficult to be long kept, the Figures in the Air, in Ceiling, or much raised above the Sight; and even of Animals, which are not easily to be disposed.  
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 practised the same, and Michael Angelo (as Giovan. Bapt. Armenini relates) made use of it, for all the Figures of his day of judgement. '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.  Layman 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 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 contrived, that it may be moved up and down, it will serve you for a point of Sight and a point of Distance, when you have once fixed it.  
The same hole will further serve you to set your Figures in the Ceiling and disposed upon a Grate of Iron-wire, or supported in the Air by little Strings raised at discretion, or by both ways together.  
You may join to your Figures what you see fitting, provided that the whole be proportioned to them; and in short what you yourself may judge to be of no greater bigness than theirs. Thus, in whatsoever you do there will be more of truth seen, your work itself 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 judgement must supply it. Tintoret, as Ridolphi tells us in his life, had made Chambers of Board and Past board, proportioned to his Models with Doors and Windows, through which he distributed on his Figures artificial Lights, as much as he thought reasonable, and often passed 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.  etc. 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 Loire; the Po, or the Tiber; 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 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 surprise him."  
Let a Nobleness and Grace, 
¶ 222.  etc. It is difficult enough to say what this Grace of Painting is; 'tis to be conceived and understood much more easily than to be explained by words. It proceeds from the illuminations of an excellent Mind, which cannot be acquired, by which we give a certain turn to things which makes them pleasing. A Figure may be designed 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 fixed 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) 
Multaque cum formâ gratia mista suit.  
A matchless Grace was with her Beauty mixed.   
And Suetonius speaking of Nero, says, he was rather beautiful than graceful. Vultu pulchro, magis quam venusto. How many fair women do we see, who please us much less than others, who have not such beautiful Features? 'Tis by this grace that Raphael has made himself the most renowned of all the Italians, as Apelles by the same means carried it above all the Greeks.  
This is that in which the greatest difficulty consists, 
¶ 233.  etc. For two reasons, both because great study is to be made as well upon the ancient Beauties and on noble Pictures, as upon nature itself: and also because that part depends entirely on the Genius, and seems to be purely the gift of Heaven, which we have received 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 received from Heaven this precious Gift, cannot acquire it without great Labour, nevertheless 'tis needful 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 called Passions, because the Soul is agitated by them, and because the Body suffers through them, and is sensibly altered. They are 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, joy, Sadness, Hope, Despair, Boldness, Fear and Anger. The Painters have multiplied them not only 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 named: 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 comprise under the name of Passions, can be reduced to those of the Philosophers, I am of opinion that 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 learned from the life itself, 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 conceived 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, on the spot, and with assurance, that it is such a Posture or such lines in the parts of the Face, formed 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 conjointly 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 only 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, tossed 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 poised betwixt the Shoulders. And of the rest, there are many marks more easily conceived than they can be expressed; as, Bashfulness, Admiration, Indignation, and Doubt. 'Tis by the Head that we make known more visibly our Supplications, our threatenings, our Mildness, our Haughtiness, our Love, our Hatred, our joy, our Sadness, our 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 itself. The Passions which they more particularly express, are Pleasure, Languishment, Disdain, Severity, Sweetness, Admiration and Anger. joy and Sadness may bear their parts, if they did not more especially proceed from the Eyebrows and the Mouth. And the two parts last named agree more particularly in the expression of those two Passions; nevertheless if you join the Eyes as a third, you will have the Product of a wonderful Harmony for all the Passions of the Soul.  
The Nose has no Passion which is particular to it, it only lends its assistance to the others before named, by the stretching of the Nostrils, which is as much marked in joy, 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 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. Satire 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 accustomed to sleep with a peaceable Nose, softening in his slumbers the Wrinkles of it, and the Anger which commonly mounted to that part; but now his Nostrils were widened 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 only 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 only 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 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 joy 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 disposed, so as to express the different Passions, is impossible; no precise Rules can be given of it, both because the task itself is infinite, and also because every one is left to the Conduct of his own Genius, and to the Fruit of his former Studies; only remember to be careful, 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 not altogether unaccessible, and that an easy 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 accustomed to behold." This passage of Quinctilian is perfectly explained 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 expressed, and be much more natural, if we enter into the same thoughts, become of the same piece, and imagine ourselves 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 that we ourselves should first be touched with a Passion before we endeavour to move others with it. And how, continues he, can we be touchard, since the Passions are not in our power? This is the way in my opinion; We must form to ourselves 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 Contortions 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 required. 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 expressed in Passions. The joy of a King ought not to resemble that of a Servingman. 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. 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 Relics of it took Sanctuary under ground, 
¶ 247.  etc. All the ancient Painting that was in Italy perished 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 exposed to view, were preserved from the insolence of those Barbarians.  
The Cromatique part or Colouring, 
¶ 256.  etc. The third and last part of Painting, is called the Cromatique or Colouring. It's 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 called Painting which is made only with two Colours, provided the Lights and Shadows be observed 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 expressed in it, that we may perceive even the very Blood: the Colour of the Hair and of the Beard, are likewise to be discerned, and we can distinguish 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 only by the Camus Noses of the Blacks, their woolly Hair and their high jaws, but also by that black Colour which is natural to them." We may add to what Philostratus has said, that with two only 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, accompanied 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, etc. Thirdly, of a solid Body illuminated, as a Statue of white Marble, a green Tree, a black Horse, etc. 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 virtue of Colours, and the Friendship which they have with each other, and also their Antipathies, it comprehends the Strength, the Relievo, the Briskness, and the Delicacy which are observed in good Pictures, the management of Colours, and the labour depend also on this last part.  
Her Sister, 
¶ 263.  etc. That is to say, the Design or Drawing, which is the second part of Painting; which consisting only of Lines, stands altogether in need of the Colouring to appear. 'Tis for this reason, that our Author calls this part her Sister's 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.  etc. 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 contained in the following part of this Treatise; they are all founded on the Sense of Seeing.  
Which ought to be the most, 
¶ 280.  etc. See the Remark of number 152.  
That you may make the Bodies appear enlightened by the shadows which bound your Sight, 
¶ 283.  etc. That is properly to say, that after the great Lights, there must be great Shadows, which we call reposes: 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 considered, as a Choir of Music, 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 aggroupped 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 required. 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 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 aught to be darkened, Draperies or other things which we may suppose to be naturally brown and sullied, which will produce the same effect and give him the same reposes as the Shadows would which could not be caused 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 graved, 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 disposed to cause the effect. Rubens has given us a full information of this in those prints of his which he caused to be engraved; and I believe that nothing was ever seen more beautiful 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 exposed so clearly to the Sight, that the view of those Prints and the careful observation of them, might very much contribute to the forming of an able Painter. The best and fairest 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 aught 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 observed, and which have a wonderful strength. And there appears in public of late years, a Gallery of Archduke 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 observed in 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 attained 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 observed, though in its other parts the Picture may be well performed.  
In the same manner as we behold it in a Convex Mirror, 
¶ 286.  etc. A Convex Mirror altars 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 distinguished and nearer to the borders, etc. '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 directs itself 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 overcharged 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 lightened and eased of so much work, the Eye continues fixed on the Centre 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.  etc. '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 enlightened; many shadowed 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 coloured to make them go farther back. Titian once told Tintoret, That in his greatest works, a Bunch of Grapes had been his principal rule and his surest guide.  
Pure or unmixed 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, etc. All agree that white can subsist on the fore-ground of the Picture, and there be used without mixture; the question therefore is to know, if it can equally subsist and be placed in the same manner, upon that which is backward, the Light being universal and the Figures supposed 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 covered with black 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 observed it in this manner, and no man can go against this Precept, at least without renouncing any skill in Landscape, which is an undoubted confirmation of this truth. And we see that all the great Masters of Landscape, have followed Titian in this, who has always employed brown and earthly Colours upon the forepart, and has reserved his greatest Lights for remotenesses and the back parts of his Landtschapes.  
It may be objected against this opinion, that white cannot maintain itself in remotenesses, because it is ordinarily used to bring the Objects nearer, on the advanced part. 'Tis true, that so it is used, 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 combined to it. For example, If you would make a white Horse on the fore-ground of your Picture, 'tis of absolute Necessity, that the ground must be of a mixed brown, and large enough, or that the Furniture must be of very sensible Colours; or 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 opposed to us, so much the more it is enlightened, 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.  
But as for pure black, 
¶ 332.  there is nothing that brings the Object nearer to the Sight, etc. 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 opposed 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 advanced part, makes nothing but holes. To this there is little else to be answered, but that black always makes a good effect, being set forward, provided it be placed there with Prudence. You are therefore so to dispose the Bodies of your Pictures which you intent to be on the fore-ground, that those sorts of holes may not be perceived, and that the blacks may be there by Masses, and insensibly confused. 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 only in respect of Bodies, which are separated by some distance of a backward Position, and not of round Bodies, which are of the same 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 blackening 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 practised, 'tis impossible for a Picture to make any great effect, that the Masses can be disentangled, and the different distances may be observed at the first Glance of the Eye without trouble.  
It may be inferred 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 Vermilion; there are others also, 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 only 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 called Capital, because they serve to make the composition of all the rest, whose number is almost infinite.  
Red Ochre is one of the most heavy Colours.  
Yellow Ochre 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.  
Vermilion is wholly opposite to Ultramarine.  
Lake is a middle Colour betwixt Ultramarine and vermilion, yet it is rather more sweet than harsh.  
Brown Red is one of the most earthy and most sensible Colours.  
Pink 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 join it with white or blue, you shall have one of the most faint and tender Colours.  
Terre Verte (or green Earth) is light; 'tis a mean betwixt yellow Ochre 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 established of white and black, you will make every one of these Colours beforenamed more earthy and more heavy, the more black you mingle with them, and they will be light the more white you join with them.  
For what concerns broken or compound Colours, we are to make a judgement of their strength by the Force of those Colours which compose them. All who have thoroughly understood the agreement of Colours, have not employed them wholly pure and simple in their Draperies, unless in some Figure upon the fore-ground of the Picture; but they have used 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 to his present purpose, and according to his own Discretion.  
But let this be done relatively, 
¶ 355.  etc. One Body must make another Body fly off in such a manner that itself may be chased by those Bodies which are advanced before it." We are to take care and use great attention, says Quinctilian, not only 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 strait 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 only see the last, but whatsoever is relating to the last."  
Let two contrary extremities never touch each other, 
¶ 361.  etc. The Sense of seeing has this in common with all the rest of the Senses, that it abhors 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 Vermilion, cannot behold these extremities without Pain, though they are always attracted by the Glareing of two contraries.  
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 produced 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 mixed together, and by consequence blue and yellow are two Colours which sympathise: and on the contrary, the mixture of Blue with Vermilion, produces a sharp, harsh, and unpleasant Colour; conclude then that Blue and vermilion 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 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 placed 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 Vermilion 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 desired to attract the Eye. Paulo Veronese, in his Marriage of Canaa, because Christ who is the principal Figure of the Subject, is carried somewhat into the depth of the Picture, and that he could not make him distinguishable by the strength of the Lights and Shadows, has clothed him with Vermilion and Blue, thereby to conduct the Sight to that Figure.  
The hostile Colours may be so much the more allied to each other, the more you mix them with other Colours, which mutually sympathise; and which agree with those Colours, which you desire to reconcile.  
'Tis labour in vain to paint a High-noon, 
¶ 365.  etc. 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 would arrive to the end he has proposed, 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 observed, and well considered, by those who paint Landtschapes.  
Let the Field or Ground of the Picture, 
¶ 378.  etc. 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 proved 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 Painter's Proverb) as if they had been sprinkled with Meal, etc. 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; for being so mingled, they give no more life to the Figures, than if they had been rubbed 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 used with the same discretion, that Titian, Paul Veronese, Rubens and Van Dick, 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 touched, when they are once so placed; it would be yet better, because the Freshness of the Colours is tarnished and lost, by vexing them with the continual Drudgery of Daubing.  
All they who have coloured 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. Rubens always used this way; and I have seen Pictures from the hand of that great Person painted up at once, which were of a wonderful 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 glazed 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 intent 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 received 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 them dark Colours, and others mixed 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 required to wait till it be accomplished; and the Ground, which by its whiteness tarnishes the Lustre of the other Colours, must be entirely covered to make the whole work appear pleasingly.  
Let the parts which are nearest to us and most raised, 
¶ 383.  etc. The reason of this is, that upon a flat superficies, and as much united as a Cloth can be, when it is strained, the least Body is very appearing, and gives a heightening 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 Canvas.  
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, etc. He has said in another place, that after great Lights, great Shadows are necessary, which he calls Reposes. What 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 distinguished 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.  etc. 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.  etc. 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 only 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 useful 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 examined it at 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, etc. The end of Portraits is not so precisely as some have imagined, 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 Gaiety, 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 itself. 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 easy to him, and he will succeed better than another. Pliny tells us," That Apelles made his Pictures so very like, that a certain Physiognomist and Fortune-teller, (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 happened, if such persons were already dead."  
You are to paint the most tenderly that possibly you can, 
¶ 403.  etc. 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.  etc. '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 confused and effaced, 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, etc. As the Pieces of Antiquity will evidently show us.  

¶ 422.  There is nothing more pernicious to a Youth, etc. 'Tis common to place ourselves 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, 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."  
Search whatsoever is aiding to your Art and convenient, 
¶ 433.  and avoid those things which are repugnant to it, etc. 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 divers Natures which are aggroupped or combined together are agreeable and pleasant to the Sight, 
¶ 434.  etc. As Flowers, Fruits, Animals, Skins, Satins, Velvets, beautiful Flesh, Works of Silver, Armours, Instruments of Music, Ornaments of Ancient Sacrifices, and many other pleasing Diversities which may present themselves to the Painter's 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 only on Pictures, but even on Nature itself. For who is he who would not be tired 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 only 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 performed with ease, 
¶ 435.  etc. This ease attracts our Eyes, and Spirits so much the more, because it is to be presumed that a noble work, which appears so easy to us, is the product of a skilful Hand which is Master of its Art. It was in this part, that Apelles found himself superior to Protogenes, when he blamed him, for not knowing when to lay down his Pencil (and as I may almost say) to make 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 intent 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 yourself, 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 assured 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 Genius, and that the same Rules increase, and guide that ease in those who have already received 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 wonderful 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 Dick 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 passed half their lives in an ill practice of Painting, the habit 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 Countryman 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 used 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.  etc. If you will have pleasure in Painting, you ought to have so well considered the oeconomy of your work, that it may be entirely made and disposed in your head before it be begun upon the Cloth. 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 only 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, etc. 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 yourself by the Counsels of the knowing, 
¶ 445.  etc. Parrhasius and Cliton thought themselves much obliged 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 the Younger, are the very men in whom we find more to commend than in other people." Lysippus was extremely pleased 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 accomplished and an humble man." Praxiteles being asked which of all his Works he valued most? Those, says he, which Nicias has retouched." So much account he made of his Criticisms and his opinions. You know the common practice of Apelles, when he had finished any work, he exposed it to the Sight of all Passengers, and concealed 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 there is nothing can be of worse consequence; for the disease is nourished and increases, 
Georg. 3. 1. 5.  says Virgil, while it is concealed. There are none but Fools, says Horace, who out of shamefacedness hide their Ulcers, which if shown might easily be healed. 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 one's opinion with Prayers and Earnestness; but if you freely and ingenuously give them notice of their Faults, they never fail to make some pitiful excuse for them, or which is worse, they take in ill part the Service which you thought you did them, which they but seemingly desired of you, and out of an established Custom amongst the greatest part of Painters. If you desire to get yourself 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 Critics in the Art; and to take their Counsel with the same Mildness and the same Sincerity, as you desired 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 assured, that they will give you no quarter, and allow nothing to complaisance.  
But if you have no knowing Friend, 
¶ 449.  etc. 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 fastened 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.  etc. Qui sua metitur pondera, far 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 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 careful 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 than we eternally follow what we can never reach; for, as the Proverb says, There is nothing can please, nothing can be graceful which we enterprise in spite of Minerva; that is to say, in spite of Nature. When we have considered 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. Let every one therefore endeavour to understand his own Talon, and without flattering himself, let him make a true judgement of his own Virtues, and his own Defects and Vices; that he may not appear to have less judgement than the Comedians, who do not always choose 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 forced by necessity to apply ourselves to such other things to which we are no ways inclined; 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 shamed by them: we are not so much to strain ourselves to make those Virtues 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 only 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, etc. 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. '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 learned in little time; but the perfection is not acquired without a long Practice and a severe Diligence. We never saw that Laziness produced 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.  etc. 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 refreshed and recreated from the Toils of former Studies. Malherbe says well to this purpose. 
Le plus beau de nos jours, est dans leur matinee.  
The sprightly Morn is the best part of Day.   
Let no day pass over you without drawing a line, 
¶ 468.  etc. 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 learned without great Practice. Michael Angelo at the Age of fourscore years, said, That he learned something every day.  
Be ready to put into your Table-book, 
¶ 473.  etc. 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 carried continually about them.  
Wine and good Cheer are no great Friends to Painting, 
¶ 475.  they serve only to recreate the Mind when it is oppressed and spent with Labour, etc." 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 Lupins mixed with a little water, which served 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 Judgement, fed only on Bread and Wine at Dinner. 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 disturbed by the Vapours of his thin Repasts.  
But delights in the liberty which belongs to the Bachelor's Estate, 
¶ 478  etc. We never see large and beautiful and well-tasted Fruits proceeding from a Tree which is encompassed round, and choked with Thorns and Briars. Marriage draws a world of business on our hands, subjects us to Lawsuits, and loads us with multitudes of domestic 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 married: and amongst the Ancient Painters we find none recorded for being married, but only 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 virtuous 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 a frequent necessity to seeing Nature barefaced. Let every one examine his own strength upon this point: but let him prefer the interest of his Soul to that of his Art and of his Fortune.  
Painting naturally withdraws from noise and tumult, 
¶ 480.  etc. 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 undisturbed by vexatious Visits, is more capable of forming noble Thoughts and of Application to its Studies. 
Carmina secessum scribentis & otia quaerunt.  
Good Verse, Recess and Solitude requires:  
And Ease from Cares, and undisturbed Desires.  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.  etc. We read in Pliny, 
1500. l.  that Nicias refused Sixty Talents from King Attalus, and rather chose to make a free Gift of his Picture to his Country. " I enquired of a prudent man, 
Petron. Are biter.  (says a grave Author) in what times those noble Pictures were made which now we see; and desired him to explain to me some of their Subjects, which I did not well understand. I asked him likewise the reason of that great negligence which is now visible amongst Painters: And from whence it proceeded, that the most beautiful Arts were now buried in Oblivion, and principally Painting, a faint Shadow of which is at present remaining to us. To which he thus replied, That the immoderate desire of Riches had produced this change: For of old, when naked Virtue had her Charms, the noble Arts than flourished in their Vigour: and if there was any contest amongst men, it was only who should be the first Discoverer of what might be of advantage to posterity. Lysippus and Myron, those renowned Sculptors, who could give a Soul to Brass, left no Heirs, no Inheritance behind them, because they were more careful 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 Virtue 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 beautiful than all the Pictures and Statues of Apelles and Phidias, and all the noble Performances of Greece."  
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 wonderful sharp spur in Arts, and that it gives industry to the Artist; from whence it was that juvenal 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; 
Graeculus esuriens, in Coelum, jusseris, ibit.  
A hungry Greek, if bidden, scales the Skies.  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 daubed over with too little Reflection and too much haste.  
The qualities requisite to form an excellent Painter, 
¶ 487.  etc. 'Tis to be confessed that very few Painters have those qualities which are required by our Author, because there are very few, who are able Painters. There was a time when only they who were of noble Blood, were permitted to exercise this Art; because it is to be presumed, that all these Ingredients of a good Painter, are not ordinarily found in men of vulgar Birth. And in all appearance, we may hope that though there be no Edict in France which takes away the Liberty of Painting from those to whom Nature has refused the Honour of being born Gentlemen, yet at least that the Royal Academy will admit henceforward only such who being endued with all the good Qualities and the Talents which are required 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 Talon for the Art, nor even so much as common Sense. 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 gainful than another. The qualities properly required, are these following.  
A good judgement, 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 beautiful 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 tired with the Pains and Study which are required in Painting.  
Health, To resist the dissipation of Spirits, which are apt to be consumed by Painstaking.  
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 cheerfully, without being haunted with the dreadful 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 pleased with the Pain.  
And to be under the Discipline of a knowing Master, etc. Because all depends on the Beginnings, and because commonly they take the manner of their Master, and are formed 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 Virtue appears. And there is no Wit, howsoever excellent it may be, which can make itself immediately known. Time and Opportunity are necessary to it, and a person who can assist us with his favour and be a Moecenae to us.  
And Life is so short, 
¶ 496.  that it is not sufficient for so long an Art, etc. Not only Painting but all other Arts considered in themselves require almost an infinite time to possess them perfectly. 'Tis in this Sense that Hypocrates 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 employed. 'Tis true, that Painting is an Art which is difficult and a great undertaking. But they who are endued with the qualities that are necessary to it, have no reason to be discouraged by that apprehension. 
Veget. de re Milit. lib. 2.  Labour always appears difficult before 'tis tried. The passages by Sea, and the Knowledge of the Stars, have been thought impossible, which notwithstanding have been found and compassed, and that with ease by those who endeavoured after them. 
Lib. 1. de fin.  'Tis a shameful thing, says, Cicero, to be weary of Enquiry, when what we search is excellent. That which causes 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 advanced: and thus we pass that Life which we reckon to be short, because we count by the years which we have lived, rather than by those which we have employed in study. 'Tis evident that they who lived before us, have passed 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 laboured 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 beautiful 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 bountiful to his Kingdom: and to conduct them with all manner 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 discouraged 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. etc. Our Author intends not here to sow in a barren, ungrateful Ground, where his Precepts can bear no Fruit: He speaks to young, Painters, but to such only who are born under the Influence of a happy Star; that is to say, those who have received 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 received.  
You will do well, 
¶ 509.  etc. 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, etc. 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.  etc. 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 yourself on designing after the Ancient Greeks, 
¶ 510.  etc. Because they are the Rule of Beauty, and give us a good Gusto: For which reason 'tis very proper to tie ourselves to them, I mean generally speaking; but the particular Fruit which we gather from them, is what follows. To learn by heart four several Airs 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 Medici's, of the little Nero, (that is, when he was a Child,) and of the God Tiber. It would be a good means of learning them, if when you have designed one after the Statue itself, 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 yourself 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 only 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, etc. 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 yourselves in imitating them without apprehending any consequence of ill Habits and bad Ideas, which can be formed 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 judgement shall grow stronger, 
¶ 514.  etc. 'Tis necessary to have the Soul well formed, and to have a right Judgement 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 acquired 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 Painter should collect from many Pictures what he finds to be the most beautiful, 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.  etc. Raphael in this may be compared 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,) etc. He means in the Studies of the belle lettere, and above all in Poesy, which he infinitely loved. It appears, that he formed 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 annexed 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 by this, how much we lose, and what damage we have sustained by our Author's death, since those Commentaries had undoubtedly contained things of high Value and of great instruction.  
To intrust with the Muses, 
¶ 544.  etc. That is to say, to write in Verse, Poetry being under their Protection, and consecrated to them.   

THE JUDGEMENT 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 Sytion, afterwards at Rhodes, at Athens, and at Corinth, and at last in Rome. Wars and Luxury having overthrown the Roman Empire, it was totally extinguished, 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.  
MICHAEL ANGELO his Scholar, flourished 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 beautiful 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 graceful. 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 designed more learnedly, and better understood all the Knit 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 wonderful skill in Architecture, wherein he has not only surpassed 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 commonly painted for him) and many other Florentines.  
PIETRO PERUGINO designed 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 lived only 37 years complete. He surpassed all modern Painters, because he possessed more of the excellent parts of Painting than any other; and 'tis believed, that he equalled the Ancients, excepting only that he designed 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 graceful 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 beautiful in Perfection; but above all, he possessed the Graces in so advantageous a manner, that he has never since been equalled by any other. There are Protraits (or single Figures of his) which are finished Pieces. He was an admirable Architect. He was handsome, well made, and tall of Stature, civil, and well-natured, 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 Practise the same Forms and Fabrics which were ancient. He had the good Fortune to find great persons who committed to him the care of Edifices, Vestibules and Porticoes, all Tetrastyles, Xistes, Theatres, and such other places as are not now in use. He was wonderful 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 ungraceful: The Folds of his Draperies are neither beautiful nor great, easy nor natural, but all extravagant and too like the Habits of fantastical Comedians. He 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, designed 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 coloured 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 observed in the first Painting of that noble Scholar, in which we may remark that Propriety of Colours which his Master has observed.  
About this time GEORGIONE the Contemporary of Titian came to excel in Portraits or Face-painting, and also in great Works. He first began to make choice of Glowing and Agreeable Colours; the Perfection and entire Harmony of which were afterwards to be found in Titian's Pictures. He dressed his Figures wonderfully well: And it may be truly said, that but for him, Titian had never arrived to that height of Perfection, which proceeded from the Rivalship and jealousy of Honour betwixt those two.  
TITIAN was one of the greatest Colourists, who was ever known; he designed 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 designed 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 graceful, grave, diversified, and adorned after a very becoming fashion. No man ever painted Landscape, with so great a manner, so good a colouring, and with such a resemblance of Nature. For eight or ten years' space, he copied with great labour and exactness whatsoever he undertook; thereby to make himself an easy way, and to establish some general maxims for his future conduct. Besides the excellent gust which he had of Colours, in which he excelled all Mortal Men, he perfectly understood how to give every thing the touches which were most suitable, and proper to them, such as distinguished 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 lived 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 surprises 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: He has made Pictures, not inferior 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 touched 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 withal is very uncorrect. His Pencil was both easy and delightful, and 'tis to be acknowledged, that he painted with great Strength, great Heightening, great Sweetness, and liveliness of Colours, in which none surpassed 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 itself insensibly in the dark shadowings, which he placed 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 graceful Postures, nor of distribution for beautiful Grouppes: his Design oftentimes appears lame, and the Positions are not much observed 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 seemed to have been finished in the compass of one day; and appear, as if we saw them from a Looking-glass. His Landscape is equally beautiful with his Figures.  
At the same time with Correggio, lived and flourished PARMEGIANO; who besides his great manner of well Colouring, excelled also both in Invention and Design, with a Genius full of gentleness and of spirit, having nothing that was ungraceful 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 beautiful and correct.  
These two Painters last mentioned, had very good Scholars, but they are known only to those of their own Province; and besides there is little to be credited of what his Countrymen say, for Painting is wholly extinguished amongst them.  
I say nothing of LEONARDO da VINCI, because I have seen but little of his, though he restored the Arts at Milan, and had many Scholars there.  
LUDOVICO CARRACCI, Uncle to Hannibal and Augustine, studied at Parma after Correggio; and excelled 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 beautiful, 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 excelled his Master, in all parts of Painting: He imitated Correggio, Titian, and Raphael, in their different manners as he pleased, excepting only 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 accomplished, and of an Universal Genius.  
AUGUSTINO, Brother to Hannibal, was also a very good Painter, and an admirable Graver. He had a Natural Son, called ANTONIO, who died at the age of 35, and who according to the general opinion, would have surpassed 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 retained always somewhat of the manner which his Master Laurence the Fleming taught him. This Laurence lived at Bologna, and was Competitor and Rival to Ludovico Carracci: Guido made the same use of Albert Durer, as Virgil did of old Ennius: borrowed what pleased 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 designed the best of all his Scholars: but he died young.  
DOMENICHINO was a very knowing Painter, and very laborious, but otherwise of no great Natural Endowments: 'tis true, he was profoundly skilled in all the parts of Painting, but wanting Genius, as I said, 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 belonged to Painting, and adorned 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 only 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 daily to decay in all the parts-Painting.  
GIO. VIOLA was very old before he learned Landscape, 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 coloured.  
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 travelled into Italy: For nothing can be laid to their charge, but only that they had a Gothique Gust. As for Holbein, he performed yet better than Raphael; and I have seen a Portrait of his Painting, with which one of Titian's could not come in Competition.  
Amongst the Flemings, we had RUBENS, who derived from his Birth, a lively, free, noble and universal Genius. A Genius which was capable not only 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 Fleming than of the Beauty of the Antique, because he stayed not long at Rome. And though we cannot but observe in all his Paintings, somewhat of great and noble; yet it must be confessed, that generally speaking, he designed not correctly: But for all the other parts of Painting, he was as absolute a Master of them, and possessed 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 skimmed (if you will allow the Phrase) and extracted from their several Beauties many general Maxims and infallible Rules, which he always followed, and by which he has acquired 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 knowing, and so ready, that it may seem, this rare accomplished Genius was sent from Heaven to instruct Mankind in the Art of Painting.  
His School was full of admirable Scholars, amongst whom VAN DICK was he, who best comprehended all the Rules and general Maxims of his Master; and who has even excelled 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.   

A Short Account Of the most Eminent PAINTERS BOTH Ancient and Modern, Continued down to the PRESENT TIMES According to the Order of their Succession.  
LONDON, Printed for W. Rogers at the Sun against St. Dunstan's Church in Fleetstreet. 1695.   

THE PREFACE.  
THE Title having only promised a short Account of the most Eminent Masters, etc. the Reader must expect to find very little more in the small Compass of these few Sheets, than the Time when, the Place where, by whose Instructions, and in what particular Subject each of those great Men became Famous.  
In the first part, which comprehends the prime Masters of Antiquity, I have followed Pliny: yet not blindly, or upon his Authority alone, but chiefly in those places, where I have found his Evidence confirmed by the concurrent Testimony of other Writers. The Catalogue of Fran. Junius I have diligently perused, and examined most of the Records cited in it. I have also read over the Lives of the Four Principal Painters of Greece, written in Italian, by Carlo Dati of Florence, together with his learned Annotations upon them: and in a word, have left nothing unregarded, that could give me any manner of Assistance in this present Undertaking.  
In the Chronological part, because I foresaw that the Olympiads, and the Years of Rome, would be of little use to the generality of Readers, I have adjusted them to the two Vulgar Aeras (viz.) the Creation of the World, and the Birth of Christ. The Greek Talents I have likewise reduced into English Money: but to justify my Account, must observe, that here (as in most Authors, where a Talon is put absolutely, and without any other Circumstance) the Talentum Atticum Minus is to be understood; which according to the nearest Computation comes to about 187 l. 10 s. of our Money, the Majus being about 62 l. 10 s. more.  
In the latter part, which contains the Masters of greatest Note amongst the Moderns, I have been equally diligent, not only searching into all the most considerable Writers, who have left us any Memorandums relating to them; but also in procuring from Rome, and other places, the best Advice that possibly I could get, concerning those Painters who are but lately deceased, and whose Lives have never yet appeared in Print. In Italy I have taken such Guides, as I had reason to believe, were best acquainted in that Country: and in France, Germany, Flanders, and Holland, have been governed by the Authors who have been most conversant in those Parts. For the Roman, Florentine, and some other particular Masters, I have applied myself to the Vite d'ye Pittori, etc. of Giorgio Vasari, and that excellent Treatise of Gio: Pietro Bellori on the same Subject. For the Lombard School, I have consulted the Maraviglie dell ' Art of Cavalier Ridolfi. For the Bolognese Painters, the Felsina Pittrice of Conte Carlo Cesare Malvasia. For those of Genova, the Vite d'ye Pittori, etc. of Rafaelle Soprani nobile Genovese. For the French Masters, the Entretiens sur les vieth, etc. of Felibien. For the German, Flemish, and Dutch Painters, (of whom I have admitted but very few into this Collection) the Academia nobilissimae Artis Pictoriae, of Sandrart, and the Schilder-Boeck of Carel van Mander. For those of our own Country, I am ashamed to acknowledge how difficult a matter I have found it, to get but the least Information touching some of those Ingenious Men, whose Works have been a Credit and Reputation to it. That all our Neighbours have a greater value for the Professors of this noble Art, is sufficiently evident, in that there has hardly been any one Master●● of tolerable Parts amongst them, but a Crowd of Writers, nay some Pens of Quality too, have been employed in adorning their Lives, and in transmitting their Names honourably to Posterity.  
For the Characters of the Italians of the first Form, I have all along referred the Reader to the Judgement of Monsieur du FRESNOY in the preceding Pages. But for the rest, I have from the Books abovementioned, and the Opinions of the Learned, briefly shown, wherein their different Talents and Perfections consisted: choosing always (in the little Room to which I have been confined) to set the best side forwards, especially where their few Faults have been over-balanced by their many Virtues.  
By the Figures in the Margin it will easily appear, how careful I have everywhere been, to preserve the Order of Time, which indeed was the thing principally intended in these Papers. Some few Masters however must be excepted; whom yet I have placed next to their Contemporaries, tho' I could not fix them in any particular Year. In all of them I have been very exact in setting down their respective Names, just as they themselves used to do, when they did not write them in Latin.  
If it should be Objected, that several of the Masters herein after-mentioned, have already appeared amongst us, in an English Dress: I can only answer, That as the Method here made use of, is more regular, and quite different from any thing that has been hither to published in this kind; so, whosoever shall think it worth his while to compare these little Sketches with the Originals from which I have copied them, will find, that I have taken greater Care in drawing them true, and that my Out-lines are generally more correct, whatever Defects may be in the Colouring part.   

Ancient Masters.  
BY whom, and in what particular Age the Art of Painting was first invented in Greece, Ancient Authors are not agreed. Aristotle ascribes the honour of it to EUCHIR, 
An. Mun. 2730.  a Kinsman of the famous Daedalus, who flourished Anno 1218 before the Birth of Christ; Theophrastus pleads for POLIGNOTUS the Athenian, Athenagoras for SAURIAS of Samos; some contend for PHILOCLES the Egyptian, and others again for CLEANTHES of Corinth. But howsoever the Learned may differ in their Opinions touching the Inventor, yet as to the Art itself, all of them are unanimous, that its first appearance amongst the Greeks, was in no better a dress than the bare Shadow of a Man, or some other Body, circumscribed with a single line only, called by them Sciagraphia, and by the Latins, Pictura Linearis.  
The first step made towards the advancement of Painting, was by ARDICES the Corinthian, and TELEPHANES of Sicyon, or CRATO of the same City; who began to add other lines, by way of shadowing their Figures, to make them appear round, and with greater strength. But so inconsiderable were the advantages, which the Authors of this Manner (called Graphice) gained by their Invention, that they still found it necessary, to write under each piece, the name of every individual thing which they endeavoured to represent, lest otherwise the Spectators should never be able to discover what they intended by it.  
The next Improvement, was by CLEOPHANTUS of Corinth, who first attempted to fill up his Out-lines with a single Colour: from whence his Pieces, and those of HYGIEMON, DINIAS, and CHARMAS his followers, got the name of Monochromata, (viz.) Pictures of one colour.  
EUMARUS the Athenian, began to paint Men and Women in a manner different from each other, and ventured to imitate all sorts of Objects: but was far excelled by his Disciple.  
CIMON the Cleonaean, who found out the Art of Painting Historically, designed his Figures in variety of Postures, distinguished the several parts of the Body by their Joints, and was the first who took notice of the folds of Draperies in his Pieces.  
In what Century the Masters abovemention'd lived, Antiquity has given us no Account: yet certain it is, 
An. Mun. 3198.  that about the time of the Foundation of Rome, Anno 750 ante Chr. the Grecians had carried Painting to such a height of Reputation, that Candaules King of Lydia, surnamed Myrsilus, the last of the Heraclidae, and who was killed by Gyges' Anno quarto Olymp. 16. for a Picture made by BULARCHUS, representing a Battle of the Magnesians, gave its weight in Gold.  
PANAENUS of Athens, lived Olymp. 83. Anno 446 ante Chr. and is celebrated for having painted the Battle at Marathon, 
3502.  between the Athenians and Persians, so very exactly, that Miltiades, and all the General Officers on both sides, were easily to be known, and distinguished from each other in that Piece.  
PHIDIAS his Brother, the Son of Charmidas, flourished Olymp. 84. Anno 442 ante Chr. and was famous both for Painting and Sculpture: 
3506.  but particularly in the latter so profoundly skilled, that his Statue of jupiter Olympius was by the Ancients esteemed one of the Seven wonders of the World, as his Minerva, in the Citadel of Athens, made of Ivory and Gold, was (by way of Eminence) called the Beautiful Form. He was very intimate with Pericles, the Athenian General; and so much envied upon that account, and for the Glory which he acquired by his Works, that his Enemies could never be at rest till they had plotted him into a Prison, and had there (as some say) taken away his Life by Poison.  
POLYCLETUS, a Native of Sicyon, and the most renowned Sculptor in his time, 
An. Mun. 3518.  lived Olymp. 87. Anno 430 ante Chr. and beside the Honour which he gained, by having brought the Bass-Relievo to perfection, is commended for divers admirable pieces of work; but chiefly, for being the Author of that most accomplished Model, called the Canon: which comprehending in itself alone all the several perfections, both of Feature, and Proportion, in Humane Bodies, by the joint consent of the most eminent Artists, as well Painters as Sculptors, then in being, was unanimously agreed upon to be handed down to Posterity, a●● the Standard, or infallible Rule of true Beauty.  
In this Olympiad also were MYRON, and SCOPAS, both excellent in Sculpture; and in some respects equal even to Polycletus himself.  
POLYGNOTUS the Thasian, was the Disciple of his Father Aglaophon, and particularly famous for representing Women; whom he painted in lightsome and shining Draperies, adorning their heads with dresses of sundry colours, and giving a greater freedom to his Figures, than had been used by any of his Predecessors. His principal Works, were those which he made gratis in the Temple at Delphi, and the grand Portico at Athens, called the Various; in honour of which it was solemnly decreed, in a great Council of the Amphictyons, that wherever he should travel in Greece, his charges should be born by the Public. He died sometime before the 90 Olymp. 
An. Mun. 3530.  which was Anno 418 ante Chr.  
APOLLODORUS the Athenian, lived Olymp. 94. Anno 402 ante Chr. and was the first who invented the Art of mingling his Colours, and of expressing the Lights and Shadows. 
3546.  He was admired also for his judicious choice of Nature, and in the beauty and strength of his Figures surpassed all the Masters who went before him. He excelled likewise in Sculpture, but was surnamed the Madman, from a strange humour which he had, of destroying even his very best Pieces, if after he had finished them, he could discover any fault, though never so inconsiderable.  
ZEUXIS of Heraclea, 
An. Mun. 3553.  flourished Anno quarto Olymp. 95. Anno 395 ante Chr. and was famed for being the most excellent Colourist of all the Ancients; though Cicero, Pliny, and other Authors tell us, there were but four Colours then in use (viz.) white, yellow, red and black. He was censured by some, for making his Heads too big; and by Aristotle, for not being able to express the Manners, and Passions. He was very famous notwithstanding for the Helena which he painted for the People of Crotona; in the Composition of which he collected from five naked Virgins (the most beautiful the Town could produce) whatever he observed Nature had formed most perfect in each, and united all those admirable parts in that single Figure. He was extolled likewise for several other Pieces; but being very rich, could never be prevailed upon to fell any of them, because he thought them to be above any price; and therefore chose rather to give them away freely to Princes, and Cities. He died (as 'tis generally said) of a fit of Laughter, at the sight of a Comical old Woman's Picture, which he had drawn.  
PARRHASIUS a Native of Ephesus, and Citizen of Athens, was the Son and Disciple of Evenor, and the Contemporary of Zeuxis, whom he overcame in the noted Contest between them, by deceiving him with a Curtain, which he had painted so excellently well, that his Antagonist mistook it for the Nature itself. He was the first who observed the Rules of Symmetry in his works; and was much admired for the liveliness of his expression, and for the gaiety and graceful Airs of his Heads: but above all, for the softness and elegance of his Out-lines, and for rounding off his Figures, so as to make them appear with the greater strength and relievo. He was wonderfully fruitful of Invention, had a particular talon in small pieces, especially in wanton Subjects, and finished all his works to the last degree of perfection. But withal was so extravagantly vain and arrogant, that he commonly writ himself Parrhasius the Beau, the Sir Courtly (〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,) went clothed in purple, with a Crown of Gold upon his Head, pretended to derive his Pedigree from Apollo, and styled himself the Prince of his Profession. Yet, to his great affliction, was humbled at last by  
TIMANTHES of Sicyon (or as some say, of Cythnus) who in a Dispute betwixt them, was by the majority of Votes declared the better Painter: And besides was as eminent for the singular modesty and sweetness of his Disposition, as for the agreeable variety of his Invention, and peculiar happiness in moving the Passions. His most celebrated works were the sleeping Polyphemus, and the Sacrifice of Iphigenia; in both which (as in all his other Performances) his distinguishing Character appeared, in making more to be understood, than was really expressed in his Pieces.  
In this time also flourished EUPOMPUS of Sicyon, an excellent Artist, and whose Authority was so very considerable, that out of the two Schools of Painting, the Asiatic and the Greek, he made a third, by dividing the last into the Attic and the Sicyonian. His best Disciple was  
PAMPHILUS a Native of Macedonia, who to the Art of Painting joined the Study of the Liberal Arts, especially the Mathematics: and used to say, that without the help of Geometry, no Painter could ever arrive at perfection. He was the first who taught his Art for set rates, but never took a Scholar for less time than ten years. What reputation and interest he had in his own Country, and what use he made of it, for the honour and advancement of his Profession, see Pag. 83.  
PAUSIAS of Sicyon, a Disciple of Pamphilus, was the first who painted upon Walls and Ceiling: and amongst many rare qualities, was excellent at fore-shortening his Figures. His most famous Piece was the Picture of his Mistress Glycera, in a sitting posture, composing a Garland of Flowers: for a Copy of which L. Lucullus, a noble Roman, gave two Talents (375 lib.)  
EUPHRANOR the Isthnian, flourished Olymp. 
An. Mun. 3586.  104, Anno 362 ante Chr. He was an Universal Master, and admirably skilled both in Sculpture and Painting. His Conceptions were noble and elevated, his Style masculine and bold; and he was the first who signalised himself by representing the Majesty of Heroes. He writ several Volumes of the Art of Colouring, and of Symmetry, and yet notwithstanding fell into the same Error with Zeuxis, of making his Heads too big in proportion to the other parts.  
PRAXITELES the famed Sculptor, particularly celebrated for his Venus of Gnidus, and other excellent performances in Marble, was the Contemporary of Euphranor.  
CYDIAS of Cythnus, 
An. Mun. 3594.  lived Olymp. 106, Anno 354 ante Chr. and raised his reputation so much by his works, that Hortensius the Roman Orator, gave 44 Talents, (8250 lib.) for one of his Pieces, containing the Story of the Argonauts, and built a noble Apartment on purpose for it, in his Villa at Tusculum.  
APELLES the Prince of Painters, was a Native of Coos, an Island in the Archipelago (now known by the name of Lango) and flourished Olymp. 112, 
3618.  Anno 330 ante Chr. He improved the noble talon which Nature had given him, in the School of Pamphilus; and afterwards by degrees became so much in esteem with Alexander the Great, that by a public Edict he strictly commanded, that no other Master should presume to make his Portrait; that none but Lysippus of Sicyon should cast his Statue in Brass; and that Pyrgoteles only should grave his Image in Gems and Precious Stones. And in farther testimony of his particular respect to this Artist, he presented him, even with his most beautiful and charming Mistress Campaspe, with whom Apelles had fallen in Love, and by whom 'twas supposed he copied his Venus (Anadyomene) rising out of the Sea. Grace was his peculiar portion, as our Author tells us, Page 150, and 211. In which, and in knowing when he had done Enough, he transcended all who went before him, and did not leave his Equal in the world. He was miraculously skilled in taking the true lineaments and features of the Face: Insomuch that (if Apion the Grammarian may be credited) Physiognomists upon sight of his Pictures only, could tell the precise time of the party's death. He was admirable likewise in representing people in their last Agonies. And in a word, so great was the veneration paid by Antiquity to his Works, that several of them were purchased with heaps of Gold, and not by any set number or weight of pieces. He was moreover extremely candid and obliging in his temper, willing to instruct all those who asked his advice, and generous even to his most potent Rivals.  
PROTOGENES of Caunus, a City of Caria subject to the Rhodians, was by the Ancients esteemed one of the four best Painters in Greece: but lived miserably poor, and very little regarded in his own Country, till Apelles having made him a visit, to bring him into Reputation, bought up several of his Pictures, at greater rates than he asked for them; and pretending, that he designed to sell 'em again for his own work, the Rhodians were glad to redeem them upon any terms. Whose Disciple he was, is not certainly known; but 'tis generally affirmed, that he spent the greatest part of his life in painting Ships, and Sea-pieces only: yet applying himself at last to nobler Subjects, he became an Artist so well accomplished, that Apelles confessed he was in all respects at least equal to himself, excepting only, that never knowing when to leave off, by overmuch diligence, and too nice a correctness, he often dispirited and deadened the Life. He was famous also for several Figures which he made in Brass: but his most celebrated piece of Painting, was that of jalysus, which cost him seven years' study and labour, and which saved the City of Rhodes from being burnt by Demetrius Poliorcetes. Vide Page 84.  
Of MELANTHIUS we have nothing certain, but that he was brought up at Sicyon, (the best School of Greece) under Pamphilus, at the same time with Apelles. That he contributed both by his Pen, and Pencil, to the Improvement of his Art; and amongst many excellent Pieces, painted Aristratus the Sicyonian Tyrant, in a Triumphal Chariot, attended by Victory, putting a wreath of Laurel upon his Head; which was highly esteemed.  
ARISTIDES of Thebes, the Disciple of Euxenidas, lived in the same Olympiad with Apelles, and was the first who by the Rules of Art, attained a perfect knowledge of expressing the Passions and Affections of the Mind. And though his colouring was somewhat hard, and not so very beautiful as could be wished, yet notwithstanding so much were his Pieces admired, that after his decease, Attalus King of Pergamus, gave an hundred Talents (18750 lib.) for one of them.  
His Contemporary was ASCLEPIODORUS the Athenian, equally skilled in the Arts of Sculpture and Painting; but in the latter, chiefly applauded for the beauties of a correct Style, and the truth of his Proportion: In which Apelles declared himself as much inferior to this Artist, as he was to AMPHION, in the ordering, and excellent disposition of his Figures. The most famous Pictures of Asclepiodorus, were those of the twelve Gods, for which Mnason the Tyrant of Elatea, gave him the value of about 300 l. Sterl. apiece.  
About the same time also were the several Masters following (viz.) THEOMNESTUS, famed for his admirable talon in Portraits.  
NICHOMACHUS, the Son and Disciple of Aristodemus, commended for the incredible facility and freedom of his Pencil.  
NICOPHANES, celebrated for the Elegance of his Design, and for his grand Manner, and Majesty of Style; in which few Masters were to be compared to him.  
PYREICUS was famous for little pieces only; and from the sordid and mean Subjects to which he addicted himself (such as a Barbers, or Shoemakers Shop, the Stillife, Animals, Herbage, etc.) got the surname of Rhyparographus. Yet though his Subjects were poor, his Performance was admirable; And the smallest Pictures of this Artist, were esteemed more, and sold at greater Rates, than the larger Works of many other Masters.  
ANTIDOTE the Disciple of Euphranor, was extremely diligent, and industrious, but very slow at his Pencil; which as to the colouring part was generally hard and dry. He was chiefly remarkable for having been the Master of  
NICIAS of Athens, 
An. Mun. 3626.  who painted Women in Perfection, and flourished about the 114. Olymp. Anno 322 ante Chr. being universally extolled for the great variety and noble choice of his Subjects, for the force and relievo of his Figures, for his great skill in the distribution of the lights and shadows, and for his wonderful dexterity in representing all sorts of fourfooted Animals, beyond any Master in his time. His most celebrated Piece was that of Homer's Hell; for which having refused 60 Talents (11250 lib.) offered him by King Ptolemy the Son of Lagus, he generously made a Present of it to his own Country. He was likewise much esteemed by all his Contemporaries for his excellent Talon in Sculpture; and as Pliny reports, by Praxiteles himself: which yet seems highly improbable, considering, that by his own account, there were at least 40 years betwixt them.  
ATHENION of Maronea, a City of Thrace, a Disciple of Glaution the Corinthian, was about this time also as much in vogue as Nicias: and though his colouring was not altogether so agreeable, yet in every other particular he was even superior to him, and would have mounted to the highest pitch of Perfection, if the length of his Life had been but answerable to the great extent of his Genius.  
FABIUS a noble Roman, 
An. Mun. 3647.  painted the Temple of Health in Rome, Anno U. C. 450, ante Chr. 301: and gloried so much in his Performances there, that he assumed to himself for ever after, the surname of Pictor, and thought it no disparagement to one of the most Illustrious Families in Rome, to be distinguished by that Title.  
NEALCES lived Olymp. 132, Anno 250 ante Chr. 
3698.  in the time of Aratus the Sicyonian General, who was his Patron, and intimate Friend. His particular Character, was a strange vivacity of thought, a fluent fancy, and a singular happiness in explaining his intentions (as appears Pag. 148.) He is besides frequently mentioned by Writers, for that having painted a Horse, and being wearied with often trying in vain to express the foam proceeding from his Mouth, he flung his Pencil in a great passion against the Picture, which lighted so luckily, that to his amazement he found, Chance had finished his Design, much better than he with all his art and labour could have done.  
METRODORUS flourished Anno 168 ante Chr. 
An. Mun. 3780.  and lived in so much credit and reputation at Athens, that Paulus Aemilius, after he had overcome Perseus' King of Macedon, Anno 3 Olymp. 152. having desired the Athenians to send him one of their most learned Philosophers to breed up his Children, and a skilful Painter to adorn his Triumph, Metrodorus was the person unanimously chosen, as the fittest for both Employments.  
MARCUS PACUVIUS of Brundisium, 
3797.  the Nephew of old Ennius, was not only an eminent Poet himself, and famous for several Tragedies which he wrote, but excelled also in Painting: Witness his celebrated Works, at Rome, in the Temple of Hercules, in the Forum Boarium. He flourished Anno U. C. 600, ante Chr. 151, and died at Tarentum, almost 90 years of age.  
TIMOMACHUS of Byzantium (now Constantinople) lived Anno U. C. 704, 
3901.  ante Chr. 47, in the time of julius Caesar, who gave him 80 Talents (15000 lib.) for his Pieces of Ajax and Medea, which he placed in the Temple of Venus, from whom he derived his Family. He was commended also for his Orestes and Iphigenia: but his Masterpiece was the Gorgon, or Medusa's Head.  
About the same time also arelius was famous at Rome, being as much admired for his excellent talon in Painting, as he was condemned for the scandalous use which he made of it, in taking all his Ideas of the Goddesses from common Strumpets, and in placing his Mistresses in the Heavens, amongst the Gods, in several of his Pieces.  
LUDIUS lived in great Reputation, 
An. Mun. 3907.  under Augustus Caesar, who began his Reign Anno U. C. 710, ante Chr. 41. He excelled in grand Compositions, and was the first who painted the Fronts of Houses, in the Streets of Rome: which he beautified with great variety of Landtschapes, and pleasant Views, together with all other sorts of different Subjects, managed after a most noble manner.  
TURPILIUS a Roman Knight, 
An. Dom. 69.  lived in the time of Vespasian, who was chosen Emperor, An. Dom. 69. And though he painted every thing with his left hand, yet was much applauded for his admirable Performances at Verona.  
His Contemporaries were CORNELIUS PINUS, and ACTIUS PRISCUS, who with their Pencils adorned the Temples of Honour and Virtue, repaired by Vespasian. But of the two, Priscus came nearest in his style and manner of Painting, to the purity of the Grecian School.  
And thus have I given the Reader a short Account, of all the most eminent Masters who flourished in Greece, and Rome, in the compass of more than a thousand Years. 'Tis true indeed, that for a long time after the Reigns of Vespasian, and Titus his Son, Painting and Sculpture continued, in great reputation in Italy. Nay, we are informed, that under their Successors Domitian, Nerva, and Trajan, they shined with a Lustre almost equal to what they had done under Alexander the Great. 'Tis true also, that the Roman Emperors Adrian, Antonine, Alexander Severus, Constantine, and Valentinian, were not only generous Encouragers of these Arts, but in the pracice of them also so well skilled, that they wrought several extraordinary Pieces with their own hands; and by their Example, as well as their Patronage, raised up many considerable Artists in both kinds. But the Names of all those excellent Men being unhappily lost with their Works, we must here conclude our Catalogue of the ANCIENT MASTERS: and shall only take notice, that under that Title, All those are to be comprehended, who practised Painting or Sculpture either in Greece or Rome; 
An. Dom. 580.  before the year of our Lord 580. At which time the Latin Tongue ceasing to be the common Language of Italy, and becoming mute, All the noble Arts and Sciences (which in the two preceding Centuries had been brought very low▪ and by the continual Invasions of the Northern Nations reduced to the last extremities) expired with it: and in the Reign of Phocas the Emperor, soon after, lay buried together, as in one common Grave, in the Ruins of the Roman Empire.   

Modern Masters.  
GIOVANNI CIMABUE, nobly descended, and born at Florence, Anno 1240, 
1240.  was the first who revived the Art of Painting in Italy. He was a Disciple of some poor ordinary Painters, sent for by the Government of Florence from Greece: whom he soon surpassed, both in Drawing, and Colouring, and gave something of strength and freedom to his Works, at which they could never arrive. And though he wanted the Art of managing his Lights and Shadows, was but little acquainted with the Rules of Perspective, and in divers other particulars but indifferently accomplished; yet the Foundation which he laid for future Improvement, entitled him to the name of the Father of the First Age, or Infancy of the Modern Painting. Some of his Works are yet remaining at Florence, where he was famous also for his skill in Architecture, 
Aet. 60.  and where he died very rich, Anno 1300.  
GIOTTO his Disciple, born near Florence, Anno 1276, 
1276.  was a good Sculptor and Architect, as well as a better Painter than Cimabue. He began to shake off the stiffness of the Greek Masters; endeavouring to give a finer Air to his Heads, and more of Nature to his Colouring, with proper Postures to his Figures. He attempted likewise to draw after the Life, and to express the different Passions of the Mind: but could not come up to the liveliness of the Eyes, the tenderness of the Flesh, or the strength of the Muscles in naked Figures. He was sent for, and employed by Pope Benedict IX. in St. Peter's Church at Rome, and by his Successor Clement V. at Avignon. He painted several Pieces also at Padova, Naples, Ferrara, and in other parts of Italy; and was every where much admired for his Works: but principally, for a Picture which he wrought in one of the Churches of Florence, representing the Death of the B. Virgin, with the Apostles about her: the Attitudes of which Story, M. Angelo Buonaroti used to say, could not be better designed. He flourished in the time of the famous Dante and Petrarch, and was in great esteem with them, 
Aet. 60.  and all the excellent Men in his Age. He died Anno 1336.  
ANDREA TAFFI, and GADDO GADDI were his Contemporaries, and the Restorers of Mosa●●c-work in Italy: which the former had learned of Apollonius the Greek, and the latter very much improved.  
At the same time also was MARGARITONE, a Native of Arezzo in Tuscany, who first invented the Art of Gild with Leaf-gold, upon Bole-armeniac.  
SIMONE MEMMI, born at Sienna, a City in the borders of the Dukedom of Florence, Anno 1285, 
1285.  was a Disciple of Giotto, whose manner he improved in drawing after the Life: and is particularly celebrated by Petrarch, for an excellent Portrait, which he made of his beloved Laura. He was applauded for his free and easy Invention, and began to understand the Decorum in his Compositions. 
Aet. 60.  Obiit Anno 1345.  
TADDEO GADDI, another Disciple of Giotto 
1300.  born at Florence, Anno 1300, excelled his Master in the beauty of his Colouring, and the liveliness of his Figures. He was also a very skilful Architect, and much commended for the Bridge which he built over the River Arno, 
Aet. 50.  at Florence. He died Anno 1350.  
TOMASO, 
1324.  called GIOTTINO, for his affecting and imitating Giotto's manner, born also at Florence, Anno 1324, began to add strength to his Figures, 
Aet. 32.  and to improve the Art of Perspective. He died Anno 1356.  
JOHANNES ab EYK, 
1370.  commonly called JOHN of BRUGES, born at Maseech on the River Maez in the Low-Countries, Anno 1370, was a Disciple of his Brother Hubert, and a considerable Painter: but above all things famous for having been the happy Inventor of the ART of PAINTING IN OIL, Anno 1410, (thirty years before Printing was found out by john Guttemberg, of Strasburgh.) He died Anno 1441, 
Aet. 71.  having some years before his decease communicated his Invention to  
ANTONELLO of Messina, who travelled from his own Country into Flanders on purpose to learn the Secret: and returning to Sicily, and afterwards to Venice, was the first who practised, and taught it in Italy. He died Anno Aetat. 49.  
In the preceding Century flourished several other Masters of good Repute: but their Manner being the same, or but very little different from that of Giotto, it will be sufficient to mention the Names only of some of the most Eminent, and such were Andrea Orgagna, Pietro Cavallino, Stefano, Bonamico Buffalmacco, Pietro Laurati, Lippo, Spinello, Casentino, Pisano, etc. And thus the Art of Painting continued almost at a stand for about an hundred years; advancing but slowly, and gathering but little strength, till the time of  
MASACCIO, 
1417.  who was born in Tuscany, Anno 1417, and for his copious Invention, and true manner of Designing; for his delightful way of Colouring, and the graceful Actions which he gave his Figures; for his looseness in Draperies, and extraordinary Judgement in Perspective, is reckoned to have been the Master of the Second, or Middle Age of Modern Painting: which 'tis thought he would have carried to a much higher degree of Perfection, 
Aet. 26.  if death had not stopped him in his Career (by Poison, as it was supposed) An. 1443.  
GENTILE, and GIOVANNI, the Sons and Disciples of GIACOMO BELLINO, 
1421.  were born at Venice, (Gentile, Anno 1421.) and were so eminent in their time, that Gentile was sent for to Constantinople, by Mahomet II. Emperor of the Turks: for whom having (amongst other things) painted the Decollation of S. john Baptist, the Emperor, to convince him that the Neck after its separation from the Body, could not be so long as he had made it in his Picture, ordered a Slave to be brought to him, and commanded his Head to be immediately struck off in his presence: which so tetrified Gentile, that he could never be at rest, till he got leave to return home: which the Emperor granted, after he had Knighted him, and nobly rewarded him for his Services. The most considerable Works of these Brothers are at Venice, where Giovanni lived to the age of 90 years, having very rarely painted any thing but Scripture-Stories and Religious Subjects, which he performed so well, as to be esteemed the most excellent of all the Bellini. 
Aet. 80.  See more of him Pag. 217. Gentile died Anno 1501.  
ANDREA MANTEGNA, born at Padova, Anno 1431, 
1431.  a Disciple of Squarcione, was very correct in Designing, admirable in fore●● shortening his Figures, well versed in Perspective, and arrived to great knowledge in the Antiquities, by his continued application to the Statues, Bass Relievoes, etc. Yet however his neglect of seasoning his Studies after the Antique, with the living Beauties of Nature, has given him a Pencil somewhat hard and dry: And besides, his Drapery is generally stiff, according to the manner of those times, and too much perplexed with little folds. The best of his Works (and for which he was Knighted, by the Marquis Lodovico Gonzaga, of Mantova) are the Triumphs of julius Caesar, now at Hampton-Court. He died Anno 1517, having been the first (according to Vasari) who practised the Art of Graving in Italy. 
Aet. 86.   
ANDREA VERROCCHIO a Florentine, born Anno 1432, 
1432.  was well skilled in Geometry, Optics, Sculpture, Music, and Painting: but left off the last, because in a Piece which he had made of St. john Baptising our Saviour, Leonardo da Vinci, one of his Scholars, had by his order, painted an Angel, holding up some part of our Saviour's Garments, which so far excelled all the rest of Andrea's Figures, that enraged to be outdone by a Youngman, he resolved never to make use of his Pencil any more. He was the first who found out the Art of taking and preserving the likeness of any Face, by moulding off the Features in Plaster. He died Anno 1488. 
Aet. 56.   
LUCA SIGNORELLI of Cortona, a City in the Dukedom of Florence, 
1439.  born Anno 1439, was a Disciple of Pietro S. Sepulchro, and so excellent at designing Nakeds, that from a Piece which he painted in a Chapel of the great Church at Orvieto, M. Angelo Buonaroti transferred several entire Figures into his Last●●Iudgment. He died very rich, 
Aet. 82.  Anno 1521.  
PIETRO di COSIMO a Florentine, born Anno 1441, 
1441.  was a Disciple of Cosimo Rosselli (whose name he retained) and a very good Painter; but so strangely fantastical, and full of Caprichio's, that all his delight was in painting Satyrs, Fauns, Harpies, Monsters, and such like extravagant Figures: and therefore he applied himself, for the most part, to Bacchanalia's, Masquerades, 
Aet. 80.  etc. Obiit Anno 1521.  
LEONARDO damn VINCI, born in a Castle so called, 
1445.  near the City of Florence, Anno 1445, was bred up under Andrea Verrocchio, but so far surpassed him, and all others his Predecessors, that he is owned to have been the Master of the Third, or Golden Age of Modern Painting. He was in every respect one of the compleatest Men in his time, and the best furnished with all the perfections both of Body and Mind: was an excellent Sculptor and Architect, a skilful Musician, an admirable Poet, very expert in Anatomy and Chemistry, and throughly learned in all the parts of the Mathematics. He was extremely diligent in the performance of his Works, and so wonderfully neat, and curious, that he left several of them unfinished, believing his hand could never reach that Idea of perfection, which he had conceived of them. He lived many years at Milan, highly esteemed for his celebrated Piece of Our Saviour's Last Supper, and some of his other Paintings; and as much applauded for his Art in contriving the Canal, that brings the Water from the River Adda, to that City. He was a great Contend with M. Angelo Buonaroti, and upon account of the enmity betwixt them, went into France (Anno Aet. 70.) where after several considerable Services done for Francis I. he expired in the Arms of that Monarch, being taken speechless the very moment, in which he would have raised up himself, to thank the King for the honour done him in that Visit. 
Aet. 75.  Anno 1520.  
PIETRO PERUGINO, so called from the place where he was born in the Ecclesiastical State, 
1446.  Anno 1446, was another Disciple of Andrea Verrocchio. What Character he had, see Pag. 215. He was so very miserable and covetous, that the loss of his Money by Thiefs, 
Aet. 78.  broke his Heart, Anno 1524.  
DOMENICO GHIRLANDAIO, a Florentine born, 
1449.  Anno 1449, was at first designed for the Profession of a Goldsmith; but followed his more prevailing inclinations to Painting with such success, that he is ranked amongst the prime Masters in his time. See farther Pag. 213. 
Aet. 44.  He died Anno 1493.  
FRANCISCO RAIBOLINI, commonly called FRANCIA, 
1450.  born at Bologna, Anno 1450, was at first a Goldsmith, or jeweller, afterwards a Graver of Coins and Medals, but at last applying himself to Painting, acquired great Reputation by his Works: And particularly, by a Piece of St. Sebastian, whom he had drawn bound to a Tree, with his hands tied over his head. In which Figure, besides the delicacy of its Colouring, and gracefulness of the Posture, the proportion of its Parts was so admirably just and true, that all the succeeding Bolognese Painters, even to Hannibal Carrache himself, studied its measures as their Rule, and followed them in the same manner as the Ancients had done the Canon of Polycletus. It was under the Discipline of this Master, that Marc' Antonio, Raphael's best Graver, learned the Rudiments of his Art. He died about the year 1526, and not Anno 1518, 
Aet. 76.  as Vasari erroneously has recorded.  
FRA BARTOLOMEO, 
1469.  born at Savignano, a Village about ten miles from Florence, Anno 1469, was a Disciple of Cosimo Rosselli: but much more beholden to the Works of Leonardo da Vinci, for his extraordinary Skill in Painting. He was very well versed in the fundamentals of Design: and besides, had so many other laudable Qualities; that Raphael, after he had quitted the School of Perugino, applied himself to this Master, and under him, studied the Rules of Perspective, together with the Art of Managing, and Uniting his Colours. He turned Dominican Friar, Anno 1500, and after some time, was by his Superiors sent to the Convent of St. Mark, in Florence. He painted both Portraits and Histories, but his scrupulous Conscience would hardly ever suffer him to draw Naked Figures. He died Anno 1517, and is said to have been the first who invented, 
Aet. 48.  and made use of a Layman.  
ALBERT DURER, born at Nuremberg, Anno 1470, by the Instructions of his Father, 
1470.  a curious jeweller; the Precepts of Michael Wolgemuth, a considerable Painter; and the Rules of Geometry, Architecture, and Perspective, became the most excellent of all the Germane Masters. And notwithstanding that his manner of Designing is generally hard, stiff, and ungraceful, yet however he was otherwise so very well Accomplished, that his Prints were had in great esteem all over Italy; copied at Venice, by the famous Marc' Antonio, and so much admired even by Raphael himself, that he hung them up in his own Chamber, and used frequently to lament the misfortune of so great a Genius, to be brought up in a Country where nothing was to be seen, that might furnish him with noble Ideas, or give him any light into things necessary for grand Compositions. His principal Works were made at Prague, in the Palace of the Emperor Maximilian I. who had so great a respect for him, that he presented him with a Coat of Arms, as the Badge of Nobility. He was also much in favour with the Emperor Charles V. and for his modest and agreeable temper beloved by every body, and happy in all places, but only at home; where 'twas thought, the penurious and sordid humours of a miserable wretch his Wife, 
Aet. 58.  shortened his days, Anno 1528. Vide Pag. 95.  
ANTONIO damn CORREGGIO, so named from the place where he was born, 
1472.  in the Dukedom of Modena, Anno 1472, was a Man of such admirable natural parts, that nothing but the unhappiness of his Education (which gave him no opportunities either of seeing Rome, or Florence; or of consulting the Antiquities, for perfecting himself in the Art of Designing) hindered him from being the most excellent Painter in the world. Yet nevertheless, he was Master of a Pencil so wonderfully soft, tender, beautiful and charming, that julio Romano having seen a Leda, and a naked Venus painted by him, for Frederick Duke of Modena (who intended them a present for the Emperor) declared, he thought it impossible for any thing of Colours ever to go beyond them. His chief Works are at Modena, and Parma: at the last of which places he spent most of his Life, retired and little taken notice of, working hard to maintain his Family, which was somewhat large. He was extremely modest and obliging in his Behaviour: and died very much lamented, about the year 1512; having thrown himself into a Fever, by drinking cold water, when his body was overheated, with bringing home some Copper Money, which he had received for one of his Pieces. 
Aet. 40.  See more Pag. 220 and 221.  
MICHELANGELO BUONAROTI, nobly descended, 
1474.  born near Florence, Anno 1474; was a Disciple of Domenico Ghirlandaio, and most profoundly skilled in the Arts of Painting, Sculpture, and Architecture. He has the name of the greatest Designer who ever has been: and 'tis universally allowed him, that never any Painter in the World understood Anatomy so well. He was also an excellent Poet, and not only highly esteemed by several Popes successively; by the Grand Duke of Tuscany, by the Republic of Venice, by the Emperor Charles V. by King Francis I. and by most of the Monarches and Princes of Christendom: but was also invited over into Turkey, by Solyman the Magnificent, upon a Design he then had of making a Bridge over the Hellespont, from Constantinople to Pera. His most celebrated Piece of Painting, is that of the Last judgement, in the Pope's Chapel. He died in great Wealth at Rome, from whence his Body was translated to Florence, and there honourably interred, 
Aet. 90.  Anno 1564. Vide Pag. 214.  
GEORGIO del castle FRANCO, called GEORGIONE, because of his noble and comely Aspect, was born at Trevisano, a Province in the State of Venice, Anno 1477; 
1477.  and received his first Instructions from Giovanni Bellino: but having afterwards studied the Works of Leonardo da Vinci, he soon arrived to a manner of Painting superior to them both; designed with greater Freedom, coloured with more Strength and Beauty, gave a better Relievo, more Life, and a nobler Spirit to his Figures, and was the first who found out the admirable effects of strong Lights and Shadows, amongst the Lombard's. He excelled both in Portraits and Histories: but his most valuable Piece in Oil, is that of Our Saviour carrying his Cross, now at Venice; where it is had in wonderful Esteem and Veneration. He died young of the Plague (which he got in the Arms of his Mistress, who was infected with it) Anno 1511: having been likewise as famous for his performances in Music, 
Aet. 34.  as his productions in Painting. Vide Pag. 217, and 218.  
TITIANO the most universal Genius of all the Lombard School, 
1477.  the best Colourist of all the Moderns, and the most eminent for Histories, Landtschapes, and Portraits; was born at Cadore in the Venetian Territories, Anno 1477, being descended from the ancient Family of the Vecelli. He was bred up in the School of Gio. Bellino, at the same time with Georgione: but improved himself more by the Emulation that was betwixt him and his Fellow-Disciple, than by the Instructions of his Master. He was censured indeed by M. Angelo Buonaroti, for want of correctness in Designing, (a fault common to all the Lombard Painters, who had not been acquainted with the Antiquities) yet that defect was abundantly supplied in all the other parts of a most accomplished Artist. He made three several Portraits of the Emperor Charles V. who loved him so entirely, that he honoured him with Knighthood, created him Count Palatine, made all his Descendants Gentlemen, assigned him a considerable Pension out of the Chamber of Naples, and what other remarkable proofs of his Affection he showed him, see pag. 86, 87. and a Character of his Works, pag. 218, and 219. He painted also his Son Philip II. Solyman Emperor of the Turks, two Popes, three Kings, two Empresses, several Queens, and almost all the Princes of Italy, together with Lud. Ariosto, and Peter Aretine, the famed Italian Wits, his intimate Friends. Nay, so great was the Name and Reputation of Titian, that there was hardly a person of any Eminence then living, from whom he did not receive some particular mark of Esteem: and besides, being of a temper wonderfully obliging and generous, his house at Venice was the constant Rendezvous of all the Virtuosos, and People of the best Quality. He was so happy in the constitution of his Body, that he never had been sick till the year 1576, when he died of the Plague, full of Honour, Glory and Riches, leaving behind him two Sons and a Brother, of whom Pomponio the eldest was a Clergy●●man, 
Aet. 99  and well preferred, but  
ORATIO, the youngest Son, painted several Portraits that might stand in Competition with those of his Fathers. He was famous also for many History-pieces which he made at Venice in concurrence with Paul Veronese, and Tintoret. But bewitched at last with the hopes of finding the Philosopher's Stone, he laid aside his Pencil, and having reduced most of what had been got by his Father into Smoke; died of the Plague soon after him.  
FRANCISCO VECELLIO, Titian's Brother, was an Artist so well instructed in the fundamental Maxims of Design, that Titian grew jealous of him; and fearing, that he might in time come to eclipse his Reputation, sent him upon pretended business to Ferdinand King of the Romans: and there found such means to divert him from Painting, that he quite gave over the study of it, and never any farther attempted it, unless it were to make a Portrait now and then, at the request of his particular Acquaintance.  
ANDREA del SARTO, 
1478.  (so called, because a Tailor's Son) born at Florence, Anno 1478; was a Disciple of Pietro di Cosimo, very careful and diligent in his Works, and his Colouring was wonderfully sweet: but his Pictures generally want Strength and Life, as well as their Author, who was naturally mild, timorous, and poor-spirited. He was sent for to Paris, by Francis I. where he might have gathered great Riches, but that his Wife and Relations would not suffer him to continue long there. He lived in a mean and contemptible condition, because he set but a very little value upon his own Performances: yet the Florentines had so great an Esteem for his Works; that during the ●●ury of the Popular Factions amongst them, they preserved his Pieces from the Flames, when they neither spared Churches or any thing else. He died of the Plague, Anno 1520. 
Aet. 42.   
RAFAELLE damn URBINO, born Anno 1483, 
1483.  was one of the handsomest and best tempered men living. See some account of him Pag. 215, and add to it, That by the general consent of Mankind, he is acknowledged to have been the Prince of the Modern Painters: and is oftentimes styled the Divine Raphael, for the inimitable Graces of his Pencil, and for the excellence of his Genius, which seemed to have something more than Humane in its Composition. That he was beloved in the highest degree by the Pope's julius II. and Leo X. That he was admired and courted by all the Princes and States of Europe, and particularly by Henry VIII. who would fain have obliged him to come over into England. That his Person was the wonder and delight of Rome, as his Works are now the Glory of it. That he lived in the greatest State and Splendour imaginable, most of the eminent Masters in his time being ambitious of working under him: and that he never went abroad without a Crowd of Artists, and others, who attended and followed him purely out of respect. That he declined Marriage (tho' very advantageous offers had been made him) in hopes of a Cardinal's Cap, which he expected: but falling sick in the mean time, and concealing the true cause of his distemper from his Physicians, Death disappointed him of the reward due to his most extraordinary Merits, 
Aet. 37.  Anno 1520.  
GIO. ANTONIO LICINIO da PORDENONE, 
1484.  born at a place so called, not far from Udine in the Venetian Territories, Anno 1484, after some time spent in Letters and Music, applied himself to Painting; yet without any other Guide to conduct him, beside his own prompt and lively Genius, and the Works of Georgione: which he studied at Vendace with so much attention, that he soo●● arrived to a manner of Colouring nothing in●●rior to his Pattern. But that which tended yet more to his improvement, was the continued Emulation betwixt Titian and himself: which inspired him with noble Designs, quickened his Invention, and produced several excellent Pieces in Oil, Distemper, and Fresco. From Venice he went to Genova, where he undertook some things in competition with Pierino del Vaga: but not being able to come up to the perfections of Pierinos' Pencil, he returned to Venice, and afterwards visited several other parts of Lombardy: was Knighted by the Emperor Charles V. and at last being sent for to Ferrara, was so much esteemed there, that he is said to have been poisoned by some who envied the Favours which he received from the Duke, Anno 1540 
Aet. 56.   
SEBASTIANO del PIOMBO, a Native of Venice, Anno 1485, 
1485.  took his name from an Office given him by Pope Clement VII. in the Lead-Mines. He was designed by his Father for the Profession of Music, which he practised for some time; till following at last the more powerful Dictates of Nature, he betook himself to Painting, and became a Disciple of Gio. Bellino: continued his studies under Georgione, and having attained his excellent manner of Colouring, went to Rome; where he insinuated himself so far into the favour of Michael Angelo, by siding with him and his Party, against Raphael; that pleased with the sweetness and beauty of his Pencil, he immediately furnished him with some of his own Designs, and letting them pass under Sebastian's name, cried him up for the best Painter in Rome. And indeed so universal was the Applause which he gained by his Piece of Lazarus raised from the dead, (the design of which had likewise been given him by Michael Angelo) that nothing but the famous Transfiguration of Raphael's could eclipse it. He has the name of being the first who invented the Art of preparing Plaister-walls for Oyl-painting: but was generally so slow, and lazy in his Performances, that other hands were oftentimes employed in finishing what he had begun. 
Aet. 62.  He died Anno 1547.  
BARTOLOMEO (in the Tuscan Dialect called BACCIO) BANDINELLI, 
1487.  a Florentine Painter and Sculptor, born Anno 1487; was a Disciple of Gio. Francisco Rustici, and by the help of Anatomy, joined with his other Studies, became a very excellent and correct Designer: but in the Colouring part was so unfortunate, that after he had heard Michael Angelo condemn it, for being hard and unpleasant, he never could be prevailed upon to make any farther use of his Pencil, but always engaged some other hand in Colouring his Designs. Yet however, in Sculpture he succeeded better: and for a Descent from the Cross, in Mezzo Relievo, was Knighted by the Emperor. He was likewise much in favour with Francis I. and acquired great Reputation by several of his Figures: which yet are more admired for their true Out-line, and Proportion, 
Aet. 72.  than for being either graceful or gentile. He died Anno 1559.  
GIULIO ROMANO, born Anno 1492, 
1492.  was the greatest Artist, and most universal Painter of all the Disciples of Raphael: beloved by him as if he had been his Son, for the wonderful sweetness of his temper; and made one of his Heirs, upon condition, that he should assist in finishing such things as he had left imperfect. He was profoundly learned in all the parts of the Antiquities: and by his conversation with the works of the most excellent Poets, and particularly Homer, had made himself an absolute Master of the qualifications necessary required in a great Designer. He continued for some years at Rome, after the death of Raphael: and by the directions of Pope Clement VII. wrought several admirable Pieces in the Hall of Constantine, and other public places. But his principal performances were at Mantova: where he was sent for by the Marquis Frederico Gonzaga; and where he made his name illustrious, by a noble and stately Palace built after his Model, and beautified with variety of Paintings after his Designs. And indeed in Architecture he was so eminently skilful; that he was invited back to Rome, with an offer made him of being the chief Architect of St. Peter's Church: but whilst he was debating with himself, whether or no he should accept of this opportunity, of returning gloriously into his own Country, Death interposed, 
Aet. 54.  Anno 1546. Vide Pag. 216.  
GIACOMO damn PUNTORMO, so called from the place of his Birth, Anno 1493, 
1493.  studied under Leonardo da Vinci, Mariotto Albertinelli, Pietro di Cosimo, and Andrea del Sarto: but chiefly followed the manner of the last, both in Design and Colouring. He was of so unhappy a temper of mind, that though his Works had stood the Test even of Raphael and Michael Angelo, the best Judges, yet he could never order them so as to please himself: and was so far from being satisfied with any thing he had ever done, that he was in great danger of losing the gracefulness of his own manner, by imitating that of other Masters, and particularly the Style of Albert Durer in his Prints. He spent most of his time at Florence, where he painted the Chapel of St. Laurence: but was so wonderfully tedious about it, that in the space of eleven years he would admit no body to see what he had performed. He was also of so mean and pitiful a spirit, that he chose rather to be employed by Ordinary People, for inconsiderable gains; than by Princes and Noblemen, at any rates: so that he died poor, 
Aet. 63.  Anno 1556.  
GIOVANNI D'UDINE, 
1494.  so named from the place where he was born (being the Metropolis of Frioul) Anno 1494; was instructed by Georgione at Venice, and at Rome became a Disciple of Raphael: and is celebrated, for having been the first who found out the Composition of Stucco-work, in use amongst the ancient Romans, and discovered in the Subterranean Vaults of Titus' Palace; which he restored to its full Splendour and Perfection. He was employed by Raphael, in adorning the Apartments of the Vatican; and afterwards by several Princes, and Cardinals, in the chief Palaces of Rome and Florence: and by the agreeable variety and richness of his Fancy, and his peculiar happiness in expressing all sorts of Animals, Fruit, Flowers, and the Still-life, both in Bass relievo, and Colours, acquired the reputation of being the best Master in the world, for Ornaments in Stucco, and Grotesque. He died Anno 1564, and was buried, according to his desire, in the Rotunda, 
Aet. 70.  near his dear Master Raphael.  
BATTISTA FRANCO his Contemporary, a Native of Venice, was a Disciple of Michael Angelo; whose manner he followed so close, that in the correctness of his Out-line, he surpassed most of the Masters in his time. His Paintings are somewhat numerous, and dispersed all over Italy, and other parts of Europe: but his Colouring being very dry, they are not much more esteemed than the Prints which he etch'd. He died Anno 1561.  
LUCAS van LEYDEN, 
1494.  so called from the place where he was born, Anno 1494, was at first a Disciple of his Father, a Painter of note, and afterwards of Cornelius Engelbert: and wonderfully cried up in Holland, and the Low-Countries, for his skill in Painting, and Graving. He was prodigiously laborious in his Works, and a great Emulator of Albert Durer: with whom he became at length so intimate, that they drew each others Picture. And indeed their Manner, and Style are in all respects so very much alike, that it seemed as if one and the same Soul had animated them both. He died Anno 1533, after an interview betwixt him and some other Painters at Middleburgh: where disputing, and falling out in their Cups, Lucas fancying they had poisoned him, 
Aet. 39  languished by degrees, and pined away purely with conceit.  
QUINTIN MATSYS of Antwerp, was the Contemporary of Lucas; and famous for having been transformed from a Blacksmith to a Painter, by the force of Love, and for the sake of a Mistress, who disliked his former profession. He was a painful and diligent Imitator of the ordinary Life, and much better at representing the defects, than the Beauties of Nature. One of his best Pieces is a Descent from the Cross (in a Chapel of the Cathedral at Antwerp) for which, and a multitude of other Histories, and Portraits, he gained a great number of admirers; especially for his Curiosity and Neatness, which in truth, was the principal part of his Character. He died Anno 1529.  
Beside the two Masters last mentioned, there were several other History-painters, who flourished in Germany, Flanders, and Holland about this time. But their manner being generally Gothique, Hard, and Dry; more like the Style of Cimabue, in the Dawning of the Art of Painting, than the Gusto of Raphael, in its Meridian Lustre; we shall only give you the names of some of the most noted; and such were Mabuse, Aldegraef, Schoorel, Frans Floris, Martin Hemskerck, Chris. Schwarts, etc.  
POLIDORO of CARAVAGGIO, in the Duchy of Milan, was born Anno 1495, 
1495.  and brought up to no better an employment than carrying Stone and Mortar, in the New-buildings of Pope Leo X. But being tempted at last by the performances of Gio. d'Udine, to try his Talon in Designing: by the assistance of one of his Scholars, and his own continued Application to the Antiquities, in a little time he became so skilful an Artist, that he had the honour of contributing much to the finishing those glorious Works in the Vatican. He associated himself both in the Study and Practice of his Art with one MATURINO, a Florentine; and their Genius being very conformable, they lived together like Brothers, working in Fresco upon several Frontispieces of the most noble Palaces in Rome: whereby they acquired great reputation; their Invention being the richest, and their Design the easiest that could any where be seen. But Maturino dying Anno 1527, and Rome being then in the hands of the Spaniards, Polidoro retired to Naples, and from thence to Messina; where his excellent Talon in Architecture also being highly commended, he was ordered to prepare the Triumphal Arches for the reception of the Emperor Charles V. from Tunis; for which he was nobly rewarded: and being afterwards desirous of seeing Rome once more; in his return thither was murdered by his Servant and Accomplices, for the sake of his Money, and buried at Messina, 
Aet. 48.  Anno 1543. Vide Pag. 217.  
ROSSO (so called from his red Hair) born at Florence, Anno 1496; 
1496.  was educated in the study of Philosophy, Music, etc. and having learned the first Rudiments of Design from the Cartoons of Michael Angelo, improved himself by the help of Anatomy; which he understood so very well, that he composed two Books upon that Subject. He had a copious Invention, great skill in the mixture of his Colours, and in the management of his Lights and Shadows: was very happy also in his Naked Figures, which he expressed with a good Relievo, and proper Attitudes; and would have excelled in all the parts of Paintinig, had he not been too licentious and extravagant sometimes, and suffered himself rather to be hurried away with the heat of an unbounded Fancy, than governed by his own judgement, or the Rules of Art. From Florence his Curiosity carried him to Rome and Venice, and afterwards into France; where by his Works in the Galleries at Fountainbleau, and by several proofs which he gave of his extraordinary knowledge in Architecture, he recommended himself so effectually to Francis I. that he made him Superintendent General of all his Buildings, Pictures, etc. and gave him other opportunities of growing so vastly rich; that for some time he lived like a Prince himself, in all the Splendour and Magnificence imaginable: till at last being robbed of a considerable Sum of Money, and suspecting one of his intimate Friends (a Florentine who frequented his house) he caused him to be imprisoned, and put to the Torture, which he underwent with courage; and having in the highest extremities maintained his innocence with so much constancy, as to procure his Release; Rosso, partly out of remorse for the barbarous treatment of his Friend, and partly out of fear of the ill consequence from his just Resentment, 
Aet. 45.  made himself away by Poison, Anno 1541.  
FRANCISCO PRIMATICCIO, a famous Painter and Architect of Bologna, succeeded Rosso in the Honours and Employments which he enjoyed by the favour of Francis. I. and besides, being very well descended, was made Abbot of St. Martin de Troy, in Champagne. He finished all the several Works begun by his Predecessor at Fountainbleau, by the assistance of NICOLO dell' ABBATE, an excellent Artist, his Disciple: and enriched that Palace with abundance of noble Statues, and other Pieces of Antiquity, which he brought purposely from Italy by the King's order. He had been bred up at Mantova under julio Romano, as well to Stucco-work as Painting: and by studying his manner, together with the Performances of other great Masters, became perfect in the Art of Designing, and well versed in grand Compositions. He continued in France during the remainder of his Life: lived in Pomp and State, more like a Nobleman than a Painter; and was very well esteemed in four several Reigns.  
DON GIULIO CLOVIO, the celebrated Limner, born in S●●lavonia, Anno 1498, 
1498.  at the age of eighteen years went to Italy: and under the Conduct of julio Romano, applied himself to Miniature with such admirable Success, that never did ancient Greece, or modern Rome produce his Fellow. He excelled both in Portraits and Histories: and (as Vasari his Contemporary reports) was another Titian in the one, and a second Michael Angelo in the other. He was entertained for some time in the service of the King of Hungary: after whose decease he returned to Italy; and being taken Prisoner at the sacking of Rome, by the Spaniards, made a Vow, to retire into a Convent, as soon as ever he should recover his Liberty; which he accordingly performed not long after in Mantova: but upon a Dispensation obtained from the Pope, by Cardinal Grimani, soon laid aside the religious Habit, and was received into the Family of that Prince. His Works were wonderfully esteemed throughout Europe; highly valued by several Popes, by the Emperor's Charleses V. and Maximilian II. by Philip King of Spain, and many other illustrious Personages: and so much admired at Rome; that those Pieces which he wrought for the Cardinal Farnese (in whose Palace he spent the latter part of his Life) were by all the Lovers of Art, reckoned in the number of the Rarities of that City. 
Aet. 80.  Ob. Anno 1578.  
HANS HOLBEIN, born at Basil, in Switzerland, Anno 1498, 
1498.  was a Disciple of his Father; by whose assistance and his own industry, he made a wonderful Progress in the Art of Painting: and acquired such a name by his Piece of Deaths-dance, in the Town-hall of Basil, that the famous Erasmus, after he had obliged him to draw his Picture, sent him over with it into England, and gave him Letters recommendatory to Sir Thomas Moor then Ld. Chancellor; who received and entertained him with the greatest respect imaginable, employed him in making the Portraits of himself and Family; and which the sight of them so charmed King Henry VIII. that he immediately took him into his service, and by the many signal Instances which he gave him of his Royal Favour and Bounty, brought him likewise into esteem with all the Nobility, and People of Eminence in the Kingdom. One of his best Pieces, is that of the said King with his Queen, etc. at Whitehall; which with divers other admirable Portraits of his hand (some as big, and others less than the Life; and as well in Water-Colours, as Oil) may challenge a place amongst those of the most famed Italian Masters: Vid. Pag. 224. He was eminent also for a rich vein of Invention, very conspicuous in a multitude of Designs, which he made for Gravers, Sculptors, jewellers, etc. and was particularly remarkable for having (like Turpilius the Roman) performed all his Works with his Left hand. 
Aet. 56.  He died of the Plague, at London, Anno 1554.  
PIERINO del VAGA, was born at Florence, Anno 1500, 
1500.  of such mean Parentage; that his Mother being dead at two months' end, he was afterwards suckled by a Goat. The name of Vaga he took from a Country Painter, who carried him to Rome: where he left him in such poor circumstances, that he was forced to spend three days of the week in working for Bread; but yet setting apart the other three for his improvement; in a little time, by studying the Antique, together with the Works of Raphael, and Michael Angelo, he became one of the boldest and best Designers of the Roman School: and understood the Muscles in naked Bodies, and all the difficulties of the Art so well; that Raphael took an affection to him, and employing him in the Pope's Apartments, gave him a lucky opportunity of distinguishing himself from his Fellow-disciples, by the marvellous beauty of his Colouring, and his peculiar Talon in Grotesque. His chief Works are at Genova: where he grew famous likewise for his skill in Architecture; having designed a noble Palace for Prince Doria, which he also painted, and adorned with his own hand. From Genova he removed to Pisa, and afterwards to several other parts of Italy; his rambling humour never suffering him to continue long in one place: till at length returning to Rome, he had a Pension settled on him, for looking after the Pope's Palace, and the Casa Farnese. But Pierino having squandered away in his Youth, that which should have been the support of his old Age; and being constrained at last to make himself cheap, by undertaking any little Pieces, for a small Sum of ready money; fell into a deep Melancholy, and from that extreme into another as bad, of Wine and Women, and the next turn was into his Grave, 
Aet. 47.  Anno 1547.  
FRANCESO MAZZUOLI, called PARMEGIANO, because born at Parma, Anno 1504, 
1504  was an eminent Painter when but sixteen years old, famous all over Italy at nineteen, and at twenty three performed such wonders; that when the Emperor Charles V. had taken Rome by Storm, some of the common Soldiers in sacking the Town, having broke into his Apartments, and found him intent upon his work, were so astonished at the charming Beauty of his Pieces, that instead of Plunder and Destruction, which was then their business, they resolved to protect him (as they afterwards did) from all manner of violence. But besides the perfections of his Pencil (which was one of the gentilest, the most graceful, and the most elegant of any in his time) he delighted much in Music, and therein also excelled. His principal Works are at Parma; where, for several years he lived in great Reputation, till falling unhappily into the study of Chemistry, he wasted the most considerable part of his Time and Fortunes in search of the Philosophers-Stone, and died poor, in the flower of his age, Anno 1540 See farther Page 221: and note, that there are extant many valuable Prints, 
Aet. 36.  etch'd by this Master.  
GIACOMO PALMA, Senior, commonly called PALMA VECCHIO, was born at Serinalta, in the State of Venice, Anno 1508; 
1508.  and made such good use and advantage of the instructions which he received from Titian, that few Masters are to be named, who have shown a nobler Fancy in their Compositions, a better judgement in their Designs, more of Nature in their Expression, or of Art in finishing their Works. Venice was the place where he usually resided, and where he died, Anno 1556. His Pieces are not very numerous, by reason of his having spent much time, in bringing those which he has left behind him to such wonderful perfection. 
Aet. 48.   
DANIELE RICCIARELLI, surnamed da VOLTERRA, from a Town in Tuscany where he was born, Anno 1509, 
1509.  was a person of a melancholy and heavy temper, and seemed to be but meanly qualified by Nature for an Artist: Yet by the instructions of Balthasar da Sienna, and his own continued Application and Industry, he surmounted all difficulties, and at length became so excellent a Designer, that his Descent from the Cross, in the Church of the Trinity on the Mount, is ranked amongst the principal Pieces in Rome. He was chosen by Pope Paul IV. to clothe some of the Nudities, in Michael Angelo's Last judgement; which he performed with good success. He was as eminent likewise for his Chisel, as his Pencil; and wrought several considerable things in Sculpture. 
Aet. 57  Ob. Anno 1566.  
FRANCISCO SALVIATI, a Florentine, born Anno 1510, 
1510.  was at first a Disciple of Andrea del Sarto, and afterwards of Baccio Bandinelli; and very well esteemed both in Italy, and France, for his several works in Fresco, Distemper, and Oil. He was quick at Invention, and as ready in the execution; Graceful in his Naked Figures, and as Gentile in his Draperies: Yet his Talon did not lie in great Compositions; And there are some of his Pieces in two Colours only, which have the name of being his best Performances. He was naturally so fond and conceited of his own Works, that he could hardly allow any body else a good word: And 'tis said, that the Jealousy which he had of some Young men then growing up into reputation, made him so uneasy, that the very apprehensions of their proving better Artists than himself, 
Aet. 53.  hastened his Death, Anno 1563.  
PIRRO LIGORIO, a Neapolitan, lived in this time: and tho' he addressed himself chiefly to the study of Architecture, and for his skill in that Art was employed, and highly encouraged by Pope Pius IU. yet he was withal an excellent Designer; and by the many noble Cartoons which he made for Tapestries, etc. gave sufficient proof, that he was more than indifferently learned in the Antiquities. There are several Volumes of his Designs preserved in the Cabinet of the Duke of Savoy; of which some part consists in a curious Collection of all the Ships, and other sorts of Vessels, in use amongst the Ancients. He died about the year 1573. Vide Pag. 217.  
GIACOMO damn PONTE da BASSANO, 
1510.  so called from the place where he was born in the Marca Trevisana, Anno 1510, was a Disciple of Bonifacio, a noted Painter, at Venice; by whose Assistance, and his own frequent copying the Works of Titian, and Parmegiano, he brought himself into a pleasant and most agreeable way of Colouring: but returning into the Country, upon the death of his Father, he applied himself wholly to the imitation of Nature; and from his Wife, Children and Servants, took the Ideas of most of his Figures. His Works are very numerous, all the Stories of the Old and New Testament having been painted by his hand, besides a multitude of other Histories. He was famous also for several excellent Portraits, and particularly those of the celebrated Poets Ludovico Ariosto, Bernardo Tasso, and Torquato his Son. In a word, so great was the Reputation of this Artist at Venice, that Titian himself was glad to purchase one of his Pieces (representing The entrance of Noah and his Family into the Ark) at a very considerable Price. He was earnestly solicited to go over into the service of the Emperor: but so charming were the pleasures which he found in the quiet enjoyment of Painting, Music, and good Books, that no Temptations whatsoever could make him change his Cottage for a Court. He died Anno 1592., 
Aet. 82.  leaving behind him four Sons, of whom  
FRANCISCO the Eldest, settled at Venice, where he followed the manner of his Father, and was well esteemed, for divers Pieces which he made in the Ducal Palace and other public places, in conjunction with Paul Veronese, Tintoret, etc. But his too close Application to Painting having rendered him unfit for all other business, and ignorant even of his own private Affairs; he contracted by degrees a deep Melancholy, and at last became so much crazed, that fancying Sergeants were continually in pursuit of him, he leaped out of his Window, to avoid 'em (as he imagined) and by the fall occasioned his own Death, Anno 1594, Aet. 43.  
LEANDRO, the Third Son, had so excellent a Talon in Face-painting, (which he principally studied) that he was Knighted for a Portrait which he made of the Doge Marin Grimano. He likewise finished several things left imperfect by his Brother Francisco; composed some History-pieces also of his own, and was as much admired for his perfection in Music, as his skill in Painting. Obiit Anno 1623., Aet. 65.  
GIO. BATTISTA, the Second Son, and GIROLAMO the Youngest, applied themselves to copying their Father's Works; which they did so very well, that they are oftentimes taken for Originals. Gio. Battista died Anno 1613, Aet. 60; and Girolamo Anno 1622, Aet. 62: See more of the Bassans Pag. 220.  
GIACOMO ROBUSTI, called TINTORETTO, because a Dyers Son, born at Venice, Anno 1512; 
1512.  was a Disciple of Titian; who having observed something very extraordinary in his Genius, dismissed him from his Family, for fear he should grow up to rival his Master. Yet he still pursued Titians' way of Colouring, as the most natural; and studied Michael Angelo's Gusto of Design, as the most correct. Venice was the place of his constant Abode; where he was made a Citizen, and wonderfully beloved, and esteemed for his Works; the Character of which see Pag. 219. He was called the Furious Tintoret, for his bold manner of Painting, with strong Lights and deep Shadows; for the rapidity of his Genius, and grand vivacity of Spirit, much admired by Paul Veronese. But then, on the other hand, he was blamed by him, and all others of his Profession, for under-valuing himself, and his Art, by undertaking all sorts of business for any Price; thereby making so great a difference in his several Performances, that (as Hannibal Carrach observed) he is sometimes equal to Titian, and at other times inferior even to himself. He was extremely pleasant and affable in his Humour: and delighted so much in Painting and Music, his believed Studies, that he would hardly suffer himself to taste any other Pleasures. He died Anno 1594, leaving behind him a Daughter, 
Aet. 82.  and a Son, of whom the Eldest  
MARIETTA TINTOREITA, was so well instructed by her Father in his own Profession, as well as in Music, that by her Pencil she got great Reputation; and was particularly eminent for an admirable Style in Portraits. She died young, Anno 1590., Aet. 30.  
DOMENICO TINTORETTO his Son, gave great hopes in his youth, that he would one day render the name of Tintoret yet more illustrious than his Father had made it: but neglecting to cultivate by study the Talon which Nature had given him, he fell short of those mighty things expected from him, and became more considerable for Portraits, than Historical Compositions. He died Anno 1637, Aet. 75.  
PARISH BORDONE, well descended, and brought up to Letters, Music, and other gentile Accompl●●shments, was a Disciple of Titian, and flourished in the time of Tintoret: but was more commended for the Delicacy of his Pencil, than the Purity of his Out lines. He was in great favour and esteem with Francis I. for whom, besides abundance of Histories, he made the Portraits of several Court Ladies, in so excellent a manner, that the Original Nature was hardly more charming. From France he returned home to Venice, laden with Honour and Riches; and having acquired as much Reputation in all the parts of Italy, as he had done abroad, died Anno Aet. 75.  
GEORGIO VASARI, born at Arezzo a City in Tuscany, Anno 1514, 
1514.  equally famous for his Pen and Pencil, and as eminent for his skill in Architecture, was a Disciple of Michael Angelo, and Andrea del Sarto; and by his indefatigable diligence in studying and copying all the best Pieces of the most noted Artists, improved his Invention and Hand to such a degree, that he attained a wonderful Freedom in both. He spent the most considerable part of his Life in travelling over Italy; leaving in all places marks of his Industry, and gathering every where materials for his History of the Lives of the most excellent Painters, Sculptors, Architects, etc. which he published at Florence, about the year 1551: a work, in the opinion of Hannibal Caro, written with much exactness and judgement; tho' Felibien, and others tax him with some mistakes, and particularly with flattering the Masters then alive, and with partiality to those of his own Country. 
Aet. 64.  He died Anno 1578.  
ANTONIO MORE, born at Utrecht in the Low-Countries, Anno 1519, 
1519.  was a Disciple of john Schoorel, and in his younger days had seen Rome, and some other parts of Italy. He was recommended by Cardinal Granville, to the service of the Emperor Charles V. and having made a Portrait of his Son Philip II. at Madrid, was sent upon the same accou●●t to the King, Queen, and Princess of Portugal, and afterwards into England, to draw the Picture of Queen Mary. From Spain he retired into Flanders, where he became a mighty Favourite of the Duke of Alva (than the Governor of the Low-Countries.) And besides the noble Presents and Applause which he gained in all places by his Pencil, was as much admired for his extraordinary Address, being as great a Courtier as a Painter. His Talon lay in Designing very justly, in finishing his Pieces with wonderful care and neatness, and in a most natural imitation of Flesh and Blood, in his Colouring. Yet after all, he could not reach that noble Strength and Spirit, so visible in the Works of Titian, and to which Van Dy●●k has since arrived. He made several Attempts also in History-pieces, but understood nothing of grand Compositions, and his manner was tame, 
Aet. 56.  hard, and dry. He died at Antwerp, Anno 1575.  
PAOLO FARINATO, born at Verona, Anno 1522; 
1522.  was a Disciple of Antonio Badile, and an admirable Designer, but not so happy in his Colouring: tho' there is a Piece of his in St. George's Church at Verona, so well performed in both parts, that it does not seem to be inferior to one of Paulo Veronese, which is placed next to it. He was very considerable likewise for his knowledge in Sculpture, and Architecture, especially that part of it which relates to Fortifications, 
Aet. 84.  etc. Obiit Anno 1606.  
ANDREA SCHIAVONE, so called from the Country where he was born, Anno 1522; 
1522.  was so very meanly descended, that his Parents after they had brought him to Venice, were not able to allow him a Master: and yet by great study and pains, together with such helps as he received from the Prints of Parmegiano, and the Paintings of Georgione and Titian, he arrived at last to a degree of Excellence very surprising. 'Tis true indeed, that being obliged to work for his daily Bread, he could not spare time sufficient for making himself throughly perfect in Design: but however, that Defect was so well covered by the singular Beauty and Sweetness of his Colours, that Tintoret used oft●●ntimes to say, no Painter ought to be without one Piece (at least) of his Hand. His principal Works were composed at Venice, some of them in concurrence with Tintoret himself, and others by the directions of Titian, in the Library of St. Mark. But so malicious was Fortune to poor Andrea, that his Pictures were but little valued in his life-time, and he never was paid any otherwise for them, than as an ordinary Painter: tho' after his Decease, which happened Anno 1582, his Works turned to a much better account, and were esteemed answerable to their Merits, and but little inferior to those of his most famous Contemporaries. 
Aet. 60.   
FREDERICO BAROCCI, born in the City of Urbino, Anno 1528, 
1528.  was trained up in the Art of Designing by Baptista Venetiano, and having at Rome acquired a competent Knowledge in Geometry, Perspective, and Architecture, applied himself to the Works of his most eminent Predecessors: and in a particular manner studied Raphael, and Correggio; one in the charming Airs, and graceful Out-lines of his Figures, and the other in the admirable Union, and agreeable Harmony of his Colours. He had not been long in Rome, before some malicious Painters, his Competitors, found means by a Dose of Poison conveyed into a Salad, with which they had treated him, to send him back again into his own Country, attended with an Infirmity so terribly grievous, that for above fifty years together it seldom permitted him to take any Repose, and never allowed him above two hours in a day to follow his Painting. So that expecting, almost every Moment, to be removed into another World, he employed his Pencil altogether in the Histories of the Bible, and other Religious Subjects, of which he wrought a considerable number, in the short Intervals of his painful Fits, 
Aet. 84.  and notwithstanding the Severity of them, lived till the year 1612.  
TADDEO ZUCCHERO, born in the Duchy of Urbino, Anno 1529, 
1529.  was initiated in the Art of Painting at home, by his Father, and at Rome instructed by Gio. Pietro Calabro; but improved himself most by the Study of Anatomy, and by copying the Works of Raphael. He excelled chiefly in a florid Invention, a gentile Manner of Designing, and in the good Disposition and Oeconomy of his Pieces: but was not so much admired for his Colouring, which was generally unpleasant, and rather resembled the Statues than the Life. He lived for the most part in Rome and Urbino, where he left many things unfinished, 
Aet. 37.  being taken away in his Prime, Anno 1566.  
PAOLO CALIARI VERONESE, born Anno 1532, 
1532.  was a Disciple of Antonio Badile, and not only esteemed the most excellent of all the Lombard Painters, but for his copious and admirable Invention, for the Grandeur and Majesty of his Composition, for the Beauty and Perfection of his Draperies, together with his noble Ornaments of Architecture, etc. is styled by the Italians, Il Pittore felice (the happy Painter.) He spent most of his time at Venice; but the best of his Works were made after he returned thither from Rome, and had studied the Antique. He could not be prevailed upon, by the great Offers made him by the King of Spain, to leave his own Country; where his Reputation was so well established, that most of the Princes of Europe sent to their several Ambassadors, to procure them something of his Hand at any Rates. He was a Person of an ingenuous and noble Spirit, used to go richly dressed, and generally wore a gold Chain, which had been presented him by the Procurators of St. Mark, as a Prize which he won from several Artists his Competitors. He was highly in favour with all the principal Men in his time, and so much admired by all the great Masters, as well his Contemporaries, as those who succeeded him, that Titian himself used to call him the Ornament of his Profession: and Guido Reni being asked, which of the Masters his Predecessors he would choose to be, were it in his power; after a little pause, cried out Paulo, Paulo. He died at Venice, Anno 1588., 
Aet. 56.  leaving great Wealth behind him to his two Sons  
GABRIELLE and CARLO, who lived very happily together, joined in finishing several Pieces left imperfect by their Father, and followed his manner so close in other excellent things of their own, that they are not easily distinguished from those of Paulos hand. Carlo would have performed wonders, had he not been nipped in the Bud, Anno 1596, Aet. 26: after whose Decease Gabriel applied himself to Merchandizing; yet did not quite lay aside has Pencil, but made a considerable number of Portraits, and some History-pieces of a very good Gusto. Obiit Anno 1631, Aetat. 63.  
BENEDETTO CALIARI lived and studied with his Brother Paulo, whom he loved entirely; and frequently assisted him, and his Nephews, in finishing several of their Compositions; but especially in Painting Architecture, in which he chiefly delighted. He practised for the most part in Fresco: and some of his best Pieces are in Chiaro-Scuro, or two Colours only. He was besides, Master of an indifferent good stock of Learning, was Poetically inclined, and had a peculiar Talon in Satire. He died Anno 1598., Aet. 60. See more of Paulo pag. 219.  
GIOSEPPE SALVIATI, a Venetian Painter, was born Anno 1535, 
1535.  and exchanged the name of Porta, which belonged to his Family, for that of his Master Francisco Salviati, with whom he was placed very young at Rome by his Uncle. He spent the greatest part of his Life in Venice; where he applied himself generally to Fresco: and was oftentimes employed in concurrence with Paul Veronese and Tintoret. He was well esteemed for his great skill both in Design and Colouring; was likewise well read in other Arts and Sciences, and particularly so good a Mathematician, that he writ several Treatises very judiciously on that Subject. He died Anno 1585. 
Aet. 50.   
FREDERICO ZUCCHERO, born in the Duchy of Urbino, Anno 1543, 
1543.  was a Disciple of his Brother Taddeo, from whom he differed but very little in his Style and Manner of Painting, tho' in Sculpture and Architecture he was far more excellent. He fled into France to avoid the Pope's Displeasure, which he had incurred by an Affront put upon some of his Officers: and from thence passing through Flanders and Holland, came over into England, drew Queen Elizabeth's Picture, went back to Italy, was pardoned by the Pope, and in a little time sent for to Spain by the Philip II. and employed in the Escurial. He laboured very hard at his return to Rome, for establishing the Academy of Painting, by virtue of a Brief obtained from Pope Gregory XIII. Of which being chosen the first Prince himself, he built a noble Apartment for their Meeting, went to Venice to print some Books which he had composed of that Art, and had formed other Designs for its farther Advancement, which yet were all defeated by his Death (at Ancona) Anno 1609. 
Aet. 66.   
GIACOMO PALMA junior, commonly called GIOVANE PALMA, born at Venice, Anno 1544, 
1544.  was the Son of Antonio the Nephew of Palma Vecchio. He improved the Instructions which his Father had given him, by copying the Works of the most eminent Masters, both of the Roman and Lombard Schools; but in his own Compositions chiefly followed the Manner of Titian and T●●toret. He spent some years in Rome, and was employed in the Galleries and Lodgings of the Vatican: but the greatest number of his Pieces is at Venice, where he studied night and day, filled almost every place with something or other of his Hand; and (like Tintoret) refused nothing that was offered him, upon the least Prospect of any Gains. He died Anno 1628. 
Aet. 84.   
DOMENICO FETI, a Roman, flourished in this time. He was a Disciple of Lodovico Civoli, of Florence; and excelled in Figures and Historical Compositions, but died young, Anno Aet. 35.  
BARTHOLOMEW SPRANGHER, born at Antwerp, Anno 1546, 
1546  was chief Painter to the Emperor Maximilian II. and so much respected by his Successor Rodolphus, that he presented him with a Gold Chain and Medal, allowed him a Pension, honoured him and his Posterity with the Title of Nobility, lodged him in his own Palace, and would suffer him to paint for nobody but himself. He had spent some part of his Youth in Rome, where he was employed by the Cardinal Farnese, and afterwards preferred to the Service of Pope Pius V. but for want of judgement in the Conduct of his Studies, brought little with him, besides a good Pencil from Italy. His Out-line was generally stiff and very ungraceful, his Postures forced and extravagant; and in a word, there appeared nothing of the Roman Gusto in his Designs. He obtained leave from the Emperor (after many years' continuance in his Court) to visit his own Country; and accordingly went to Antwerp, Amsterdam, Haerlem, and several other places, where he was honourably received: and having had the satisfaction of seeing his own Works highly admired, and his manner almost universally followed in all those parts, as well as in Germany, returned to Prague, and died Anno 1602, or thereabout. In the same Form with Sprangher we may place his Contemporaries, john van Ache, and joseph Heints, both History Painter of note, 
Aet. 56.  and much admired in the Emperor's Court.  
MATTHEW BRIL was born at Antwerp, Anno 1550, 
1550.  but studied for the most part at Rome; and was famous for his Performances in History and Landscape, in the Galleries of the Vatican, where he was employed by Pope Gregory XIII. He died young, Anno 1584. 
Aet. 34.   
PAUL BRIL, of Antwerp also, born Anno 1554, 
1554.  followed his Brother Matthew to Rome, painted several things in conjunction with him, and after his Decease, brought himself into Reputation by his Landtschapes: but especially by those which he composed in his latter time (after he had studied the manner o●● Hannibal Carrach, and had copied some of Titians' Works, in the same kind) the Invention in them being more pleasant, the Disposition more noble, all the parts more agreeable, and painted with a better Gusto, than those in his former days. He died at Rome, Anno 1626. 
Aet. 72.   
ANTONIO TEMPESTA, his Contemporary, a Native of Florence, was a Disciple of john Strada, a Fleming. He had a particular Genius for Battles, Calvacades, Hunt, and for designing all sorts of Animals: but did not so much regard the Delicacy of Colouring, as the lively expression and Spirit of those things which he represented. His ordinary Residence was at Rome; where, in his younger days he had wrought several Pieces by order of Pope Gregory XIII. in the Apartments of the Vatican. He was full of Thought and Invention, very quick and ready in the Execution, and famous also for a multitude of Prints, etch'd by himself. He died Anno 1630.  
LODOVICO CARRACCI, the Uncle of Augustino and Hannibal, was born at Bologna, Anno 1555, 
1555.  and under his first Master Prospero Fontana, discovered but an indifferent Genius for Painting: but however, Art supplied the defects of Nature, and by constant and unwearied diligence in studying the Works of Parmegiano, Correggio, Titian, and other great Men, he brought himself at last to a degree of Perfection hardly inferior to any of them. He assisted his Nephews in Founding and Settling the famous Academy of Design at Bologna, and afterwards in Painting the Palazzo Farnese at Rome; and having survived them both, died Anno 1619, 
Aet. 64.  Vide pag. 222.  
AGOSTINO CARRACCI, a Bolognese also, was born Anno 1557, 
1557.  and by the care and instructions of Domenico Tebaldi, Alessandro Minganti and others, became not only a very good Designer and Painter, but in the Art of Graving surpassed all the Masters in his time. He had an insight likewise into all the parts of the Mathematics, Natural Philosophy, Rhetoric, Music, and most of the Liberal Arts and Sciences. He was besides, an admirable Poet, and in all other particulars extremely well accomplished. From Bologna he went to Venice, where he contracted an intimate Friendship with Paul Veronese, Tintoret, and Bassan; and having graved a considerable number of their Works, returned home, and soon afterwards followed his Brother Hannibal to Rome, and joined with him in finishing several Stories in the Farnese Gallery: But some little difference arising unluckily betwixt them, Augustino removed to the Court of the Duke of Parma, and in his Service died Anno 1602, Vide pag. 223. His most celebrated Piece of Painting, is that of the Communion of St. jerom, in Bologna: a Picture so complete in all its parts, that it was much to be lamented, that the excellent Author of it should withdraw himself from the Practice of an Art in which his Abilities were so very extraordinary, 
Aet. 45.  to follow the inferior Profession of a Graver.  
ANNIBALE CARRACCI, born likewise at Bologna, Anno 1560, 
1560.  was a Disciple of his Uncle Ludovico; and amongst his other admirable qualities, had so prodigious a Memory, that whatever he had once seen, he never failed to retain and make his own: so that at Parma, he acquired the Sweetness and Purity of Correggio; at Venice the Strength and Distribution of Colours of Titian; and at Rome, the Correctness of Design, and beautiful Forms of the Antique: And by his wonderful Performances in the Palazzo Farnese, soon made it appear, that all the several Perfections of the most eminent Masters his Predecessors, were united in himself alone. In his Conversation he was friendly, plain, honest, and openhearted; very communicative to his Scholars, and so extremely kind to them, that he generally kept his Money in the same box with his Colours, where they might have recourse to either as they had occasion. But the unhappiness of his Temper inclining him naturally to Melancholy; the ill usage which he received from the Cardinal Farnese (who through the Persuasions of an ignorant Spaniard his Domestic, gave him but a little above 200l. Sterl. for his eight years' study and labour) so confirmed him in it, that he resolved never more to touch his Pencil: and had undoubtedly kept his resolution, had not his Necessities compelled him to resume it. Yet notwithstanding, so far did his Distemper by degrees gain upon him, that at certain times it deprived him of the right use of his Senses; and at last made him guilty of some Irregularities, which concealing from his Physicians, he met with the same fate as Raphael (in the like case) had done before him, and seemed to copy that great Master as well in the manner of his Death, as he had imitated him all his Life long in his Works. Nay, such was the Veneration he had for Raphael, that it was his Deathbed Request, to be buried in the very same Tomb with him: which was accordingly done in the Pantheon, or Rotunda at Rome, Anno 1609. 
Aet. 49.  See more pag. 222, and besides take notice, that there are extant several Prints of the B. Virgin, and of other Subjects, etch'd by the hand of this incomparable Artist.  
ANTONIO CARRACCI, the natural Son of Augustino, was brought up under the Care and Tuition of his Uncle Hannibal: after whose Decease, he applied himself so successfully to the study of all the Capital Pieces in Rome, that he would have surpassed even Hannibal himself, if Death had not prevented him, Anno 1618., Aet. 35.  
CAMILLO, GIULIO CESARE, and CARL ' ANTONIO, the Sons and Disciples of ERCOLE PROCACCINI, flourished in this time. They were Natives of Bologna, but upon some misunderstanding between them and the Carraches, removed to Milan, where they spent the greatest part of their Lives. Of these,  
CAMILLO the Eldest, abounded in Invention and Spirit: but was a great Mannerist, and rather studied the Beauty, than Correctness of his Designs.  
GIULIO CESARE, was both a Sculptor and Painter, and famous in Genova, as well as Bologna and Milan, for several admirable things of his hand. He was the best of all the Procaccini, and surpassed his Brother Camillo in the exactness and purity of his Out-lines, and in the strength and boldness of his Figures.  
CARL ' ANTONIO was an excellent Musician, and as well skilled in the Harmony of Colours as of Sounds: yet not being able to arrive to the Perfection of his Brothers in Historical Compositions, he applied himself wholly to Landtschapes and Flowers, and was much esteemed for his Performances that way.  
ERCOLE the Son of Carl' Antonio, was a Disciple of his Uncle julio Cesare, and so happy in imitating his manner, that he was sent for to the Court of the Duke of Savoy, and highly honoured, and nobly rewarded by that Prince for his Services.  
GIOSEPPED'ARPINO, commonly called Cavalier GIOSEPPINO, born in the Kingdom of Naples, Anno 1560, 
1560.  was carried very young to Rome, and put out to some Painters, then at work in the Vatican, to grind their Colours: but the quickness of his Apprehension having soon made him Master of the Elements of Design, he had the fortune to grow very famous by degrees; and besides the respect shown him by Pope Gregory XIII. and his Successors, was so well received by the French K. Lewis XIII. that he made him a Knight of the Order of St. Michael. He has the character of a florid Invention, a ready Hand, and a good Spirit in all his Works: but yet having no sure Foundation, either in the Study of Nature, or the Rules of Art, and building only upon those Chimaeras and fantastical Ideas, which he had formed in his own Head, he has run himself into a multitude of Errors, being guilty of those many Extravagancies, necessarily attending such as have no better Guide than their own capricious Fancy. 
Aet. 80.  He died at Rome, Anno 1640.  
HANS ROTTENHAMER was born at Munc●●en, the Capital City of Bavaria, Anno 1564, 
1564.  and after he had studied some time in Germany, went to Venice, and became a Disciple of Tintoret. He painted both in Fresco and Oil, but his Talon lay chiefly in the latter, and his peculiar excellence was in little Pieces. His Invention was free and easy, his Design indifferently correct, his Postures gentile, and his Colouring very agreeable. He was well esteemed both in Italy and his own Country, and by his Profession might have acquired great Wealth; but was so wonderfully extravagant in his way of living, that he consumed it much faster than it came in, and at last died so poor, that his Friends were forced to make a gathering to bury him, Anno 1604. 
Aet. 40.   
Cavalier FRANCISCO VANNI, born at Sienna in the Dukedom of Tuscany, Anno 1568, 
1568.  was a Painter's Son, but quitted the manner which he had learned from his Father, to follow that of Barocci; whom he imitated in his choice of Religious Subjects, as well as in his Gusto of Painting. The most considerable Works of this Master are in the several Churches of Sienna, and are much commended both for the Beauty of their Colouring, and Correctness of their Design. He died Anno 1615. 
Aet. 47.   
MICHELANGELO MERIGI born An. 1569, 
1569.  at CARAVAGGIO, from whence he derived his Name, was at first (like his Countryman Polidore) no better than a Day-labourer; till having seen some Painters at work, upon a Brickwall, which he had prepared for them, he was so charmed with their Art, that he immediately addressed himself to the study of it: and in a few years made so considerable a progress, that in Venice, Rome, and several other parts of Italy, he was cried up, and admired by all the Young men, as the Author of a new Style of Painting. Upon his first coming to Rome, his Necessities compelled him to paint Flowers and Fruit, under Cavalier Gioseppino: but being soon weary of that Subject, and returning to his former practice of Histories, with Figures drawn to the middle only, he made use of a Method, quite different from the conduct of Gioseppino, and running into the contrary extreme, followed the Life as much too close, as the other went wide from it. He affected a way particular to himself, of deep and dark shadows, to give his Pieces the greater relievo, and despising all other help, but what he received from Nature alone (whom he took with all her faults, and copied without judgement or discretion) his Invention became so poor, that he could never draw any thing without his Model before his eyes; and therefore understood but little either of Design, or Decorum in his Compositions. He had indeed an admirable Colouring, and great strength in all his Works: But those Pictures which he made in imitation of the manner of Georgione, were his best, because they have nothing of that blackness in them, in which he afterwards delighted. He died in his return from Malta, (where he had been Knighted by the Grand Master, for some things which he had wrought for him) Anno 1609. 
Aet. 40.  His chief Disciples were Bartolomeo Manfredi of Mantova, Carlo Saracino, commonly called Venetiano, Valentino a Frenchman, and Gerard Hunthorst of Utrecht.  
FILIPPO d' ANGELI was a Roman born, but called NEAPOLITANO, because his Father sent him to Naples, when he was very young. At his return to Rome, he applied himself to the Antiquities; but unhappily left that study too soon, and followed the manner of his Contemporary M. Angelo da Caravaggio. He practised for the most part in Landtschapes, and Battles, was every where well esteemed for his Works, and employed by several Princes in many of the Churches and Palaces of Rome, Naples and Venice; at the last of which places he died Anno Aetat. 40.  
JAN BRUEGHEL, the Son of old Peter, and the younger Brother of Helsen Brueghel, was born in Brussels, Anno 1569, 
1569.  and called FLUWEELEN because of the Velvet Garments which he generally affected to wear. He began his Studies at home, under Peter Goe-kindt, and continued them in Italy with such success, that of all the German, Dutch, or Flemish Masters, Elsheimer only was superior to him in Landtschapes, and Histories with small Figures. He painted both in Water-colours and Oil, but in the latter chiefly excelled; and especially, in representing Wakes, Fairs, and other frolicsome and merry meetings of Countrypeople. His Invention was easy and pleasant, his Out-lines firm and sure, his Pencil loose and free: and in short, all his Compositions were so well managed, that Nature in her plain Country Dress, was always to be seen in his Works. He died Anno 1625. 
Aet. 56.   
ADAM ELSHEIMER born at Frankfort upon the Main, Anno 1574, 
1574.  was at first a Disciple of Philip Uffenbach a Germane: but an ardent desire of Improvement carrying him to Rome, he soon became a most excellent Artist in Landtschapes, Histories, and Night-pieces, with little Figures. His Works are very few; and for the incredible Pains and Labour which he bestowed upon them, valued at such prodigious rates, that they are hardly any where to be found but in the Cabinets of Princes. He was a Person by Nature inclined to Melancholy, and through continued study and thoughtfulness, was so far settled in that unhappy temper, that neglecting his own domestic concerns, Debts came thick upon him, and Imprisonment followed: which struck such a damp upon his Spirits, that though he was soon released, yet he did not long survive it, and died in the year 1610, 
Aet. 36.  or thereabout.  
GUIDO RENI was born at Bologna, An. 1575., 
1575.  and having learned the Rudiments of Painting, under a Flemish Master, was refined and polished in the School of the Carraches: and to what degree of Excellence he arrived, see pag. 223. He acquired great perfection in Music, by the instructions of his Father, an eminent Professor of that Art. In his behaviour he was modest, gentile, and very obliging; lived in great splendour, both at Bologna, and Rome, and was only unhappy in his immoderate love of Gaming: to which, in his latter days, he had abandoned himself so entirely, that all the Money which he could get by his Pencil, or borrow upon Interest, being too little to supply his losses, he was at last reduced to so poor and mean a condition, that the consideration of his present circumstances, together with reflections on his former reputation, and high manner of living, brought a languishing Distemper upon him, which occasioned his Death, Anno 1642. 
Aet. 67.  Note, that there are several Designs of this great Master, in print, etch'd by himself.  
GIO. BATTISTA VIOLA, a Bolognese, born Anno 1576, 
1576.  was a Disciple of Hannibal Carrach, by whose assistance he arrived to an excellent manner in Landtschape-painting, which he chiefly studied, and for which he was well esteemed in Rome, and several other parts of Italy. But Pope Gregory XV. having made him Keeper of his Palace, to reward him for the Services which he had done for him, when he was Cardinal, he quitted his Pencil, and died soon after, Anno 1622. 
Aet. 46.   
Sir PETER PAUL RUBENS, born at Cologne, Anno 1577, 
1577.  was the best accomplished of all the Flemish Masters; and would have rivalled even the most celebrated Italians, if his Parents, instead of placing him under the tuition of Adam van Noort, and Octavio Venus, had bred him up in the Roman and Lombard Schools. Yet notwithstanding, he made so good use of that little time which he spent in those places, that perhaps none of his Predecessors can boast a more beautiful Colouring, a nobler Invention, or a more luxurious Fancy in their Compositions, of which see a farther account pag. 225. B●●t besides his talon in Painting, and his admirable skill in Architecture (very eminent in the several Churches, and Palaces, built after his Designs, at Genova.) He was a Person possessed of all the Ornaments and Advantages, that can render a man Valuable: was universally Learned, spoke seven Languages very perfectly, was well read in History, and withal so excellent a Statesman, that he was employed in several public Negotiations of great Importance; which he managed with the most refined Prudence, and Conduct. And was particularly famous for the Character with which he was sent into England, of Ambassador from the Infanta Isabel, and Philip IV. of Spain, to K. Charles I. upon a Treaty of Peace between the two Crowns, confirmed Anno 1630. His principal Performances are in the Banqueting-house at Whitehall, the Escurial in Spain, and the Luxemburgh Galleries at Paris, where he was employed by Queen Mary of Medicis, Dowager of Henry IU. and in each of those three Courts had the honour of Knighthood conferred upon him, besides several magnificent Presents, in testimony of his extraordinary Merits. His usual abode was at Antwerp, where he built a spacious Apartment, in imitation of the Rotunda at Rome, for a noble Collection of Pictures which he had purchased in Italy: some of which, together with his Statues, Medals, and other Antiquities, he sold, not long after, to the Duke of Buckingham, his intimate Friend, for ten thousand pounds. He lived in the highest Esteem and Reputation imaginable, was as great a Patron, as Master of his Art; and so much admired all over Europe, for his many singular Endowments, that no Strangers of any Quality could pass through the Low-Countries, till they had first seen Rubens, of whose Fame they had heard so much. He died Anno 1640, 
Aet. 63.  leaving vast Riches behind him to his Children, of whom Albert the Eldest, succeeded him in the Office of Secretary of State, in Flanders.  
ORATIO GENTILESCHI, a Native of Pisa, a City in Tuscany, flourished in this time: and after he had made himself known in Florence, Rome, Genova, and other parts of Italy, removed to Savoy, from thence went to France, and at last, upon his arrival in England, was so well received by K. Charles I. that he appointed him Lodgings in his Court, together with a considerable Salary, and employed him in his Palace at Greenwich, and other public places. He made several Attempts in Face-painting, but with little success, his Talon lying altogether in Histories, with Figures as big as the Life: In which kind, some of his Compositions have deservedly met with great Applause. He was much in favour with the Duke of Buckingham, and many others of the Nobility: and after twelve years' continuance in this Kingdom, died Anno Aetat. 84. and was buried in the Queen's Chapel in Somerset-house.  
ARTEMISIA GENTILESCHI his Daughter, excelled her Father in Portraits, and was but little inferior to him in Histories. She lived for the most part at Naples, in great splendour: and was as famous all over Europe for her Amours, and Love-Intrigues, as for her talon in Painting.  
FRANCISCO ALBANI a Bolognese, born Anno 1578, 
1578.  was a Disciple of the Carraches●● well versed in polite Learning, and excellent in all the parts of Painting; but principally admired for his performances in little. He had a particular Genius for naked Figures: and the better to accomplish himself in that Study, married a beautiful Lady of Bologna, with little or no fortune; by whom (upon all occasions) he used to design naked Venus', the Graces, Nymphs, and other Goddesses: and by her Children little Cupids, playing, and dancing, in all the variety of Postures imaginable. He spent some time at Rome, was employed also by the Grand Duke of Tuscany, but composed most of his Works in his own Country; where he died, Anno 1660. 
Aet. 82.  His most famous Disciples were Pier Francisco Mola, and Gio. Battista his Brother, both excellent Masters in Figures and Landtschapes.  
FRANCIS SNYDERS, born at Antwerp, Anno 1579, 
1579.  was bred up under Henry van Balen his Countryman; but owed the most considerable part of his Improvement, to his Studies in Italy. He painted all sorts of Wild Beasts, and other Animals, Hunt, Fish, Fruit, etc. in great Perfection: was often employed by the King of Spain, and several other Princes, and everywhere much commended for his Works.  
DOMENICO ZAMPIERI, commonly called DOMENICHINO, born in the City of Bologna An. 1581., 
1581.  was at first a Disciple of a Flemish Master, but soon quitted his School, for a much better of the Carraches; being instructed at Bologna by Ludovico, and at Rome by Hannibal, who had so great a Value for him, that he took him to his assistance in the Farnese Gallery. He was extremely laborious and slow in his Productions, applying himself always to his work with much study and thoughtfulness, and never offering to touch his Pencil till he found a kind of Enthusiasm, or Inspiration upon him. His talon lay principally in the correctness of his Style, and in expressing the Passions and Affections of the Mind. In both which he was so admirably judicious, that Nicolo Poussin, and Andrea Sacchi used to say, his Communion of St. Jerome, in the Church of the Charity, and Raphael's celebrated Piece of the Transfiguration, were the two best Pictures in Rome. He was made the chief Architect of the Apostolical Palace, by Pope Gregory XV. for his great skill in that Art. He was likewise well versed in the Theory of Music, but in the Practice of it had little success. He had the misfortune to find Enemies in all places wheresoever he came; and particularly at Naples was so ill treated by those of his own Profession, that having agreed among themselves to disparage all his Works, they would hardly allow him to be a tolerable Master: And were not content with having frighted him, for some time, from that City, but afterwards, upon his return thither, never left persecuting him, till by their tricks and contrivances they had quite wearied him out of his Life, Anno 1641. 
Aet. 60.  Vide pag. 223. His Contemporary, and most malicious Enemy  
GIOSEPPE RIBERA, a Native of Valencia, in Spain, commonly known by the name of SPAGNOLETTO, was an Artist perfect in Design, and famous for the excellent manner of Colouring which he had learned from Michael Angelo da Caravaggio. His way, was very often in Half-Figures only, and (like his Master) he was wonderfully strict in following the Life; but as Ill-natured in the choice of his Subjects, as in his Behaviour to poor Domenichino, affecting generally something very terrible and frightful in his Pieces, such as Prometheus with the Vulture feeding upon his Liver, Cato Uticensis weltering in his own Blood, St. Bartholomew with the Skin flayed off from his Body, etc. But however in all his Compositions, Nature was imitated with so much Art and judgement, that a certain Lady big with Child, having accidentally cast her Eyes upon an Ixion, whom he had represented in Torture upon the Wheel, received such an Impression from it, that she brought forth an Infant with Fingers distorted just like those in his Picture. His usual abode was at Naples, where he lived very splendidly, being much in favour with the Viceroy his Countryman, and in great Reputation for his Works in Painting, and for several Prints etch'd by his own hand.  
GIOVANNI LANFRANCO, born at Parma, Anno 1581., 
1581.  was a Disciple of the Carraches, and besides a zealous Imitator of the Works of Raphael and Correggio. His character see pag. 224. He was highly applauded at Naples for several excellent Pieces which he wrought there, and was so much esteemed in Rome, that for his Performances in the Vatican he was Knighted by Pope Urban VIII. He died Anno 1647. 
Aet. 66.   
SISTO BADALOCCHI his Fellow-disciple, was of Parma also, and by the Instructions of the Carraches at Rome, became one of the best Designers of that School. He had also many other commendable Qualities, and particularly Facility, but wanted Diligence. He joined with his Countryman Lanfranco in etching the Histories of the Bible, after the Paintings of Raphael, in the Vatican, which they dedicated to Hannibal their Master. He practised mostly at Bologna, where he died Young.  
SIMON VOVET, born at Paris, Anno 1582, 
1582.  was bred up to Painting under his Father, and carried very young to Constantinople by the French Ambassador, to draw the Picture of the Grand Signior, which he did by strength of Memory only. From thence he went to Venice, and afterwards settling himself at Rome, made so considerable a Progress in his Art, that besides the Favours which he received from Pope Urban VIII. and the Cardinal his Nephew, he was chosen Prince of the Roman Academy of St. Luke. He was sent for home Anno 1627., by the order of Lewis XIII. whom he served in the quality of his chief Painter. He practised both in Portraits and Histories, and furnished some of the Apartments of the Lovure, the Palaces of Luxemburgh and St. Germains, the Galleries of Cardinal Richlieu and other public places with his Works. His greatest Perfection was in his agreeable Colouring, and his brisk and lively Pencil, being otherwise but very indifferently qualified; he had no Genius for grand Compositions, was unhappy in his Invention, unacquainted with the Rules of Perspective, and understood but little of the Union of Colours, or the Doctrine of Lights and Shadows: yet nevertheless he brought up several eminent Scholars, amongst whom, was CHARLES' ALFONSE du FRESNOY, Author of the preceding Poem. But his chief Disciple was the KING himself, whom he had the Honour to instruct in the Art of Designing. He died An. 1641. 
Aet. 59   
PIETER van LAER, commonly called BAMBO●●CIO, or the Beggar-painter, was born in the City of Haerlem, Anno 1584.: 
1584.  and after he had laid a good Foundation in Drawing and Perspective at home, went to France, and from thence to Rome; where by his earnest application to Study, for sixteen years together, he arrived to great Perfection in Histories, Landtschapes, Grottos, Hunt, etc. with little Figures and Animals. He had an admirable Gusto in Colouring, was very judicious in the ordering of his Pieces, nicely just in his Proportions, and only to be blamed, for that he generally affected to represent Nature in her worst Dress, and followed the Life too close, in most of his Compositions. He returned to Amsterdam, Anno 1639, and after a short stay there, spent the Remainder of his days with his Brother, a noted Schoolmaster in Haerlem. He was a Person very serious and contemplative in his humour, took Pleasure in nothing but Painting and Music: and by indulging himself too much in a melancholy Retirement, is said to have shortened his Life, Anno 1644. 
Aet. 60.   
CORNELIUS POELENBURCH, born at Utrecht, Anno 1590., 
1590.  was a Disciple of Abraham Blomaert, and afterwards for a long time, a Student in Rome and Florence. His Talon lay altogether in small Figures, naked Boys, Landtschapes, Ruins, etc. which he expressed with a Pencil agreeable enough, as to the Colouring part, but generally attended with a little stiffness, the (almost) inseparable Companion of much Labour and Neatness. He came over into England, Anno 1637; and after he had continued here four years, and had been handsomely rewarded by K. Charles I. for several Pieces which he wrought for him, retired into his own Country, and died Anno 1667. 
Aet. 77.   
Cavalier GIO. FRANCISCO BARBIERI da CENTO, commonly called GUERCINO, (because of a Cast which he had with his Eyes) was born near Bologna, Anno 1590., 
1590.  and bred up under Benedetto Gennari his Countryman: by whose Instructions, and the Dictates of his own excellent Genius, he soon learned to design gracefully and with Correctness; and by conversing afterwards with the Works of Michael Angelo da Caravaggio, became an admirable Colourist, and besides, very famous for his happy Invention and Freedom of Pencil, and for the Strength, Relievo, and becoming Boldness of his Figures. He began, in the Declension of his Age, to alter his Style in Painting: and (to please the unthinking Multitude) took up another manner more gay, neat and pleasant, but by no means so great and noble as his former Gusto. He composed several considerable Pieces in Rome: but the greatest number of his Performances is in, and about Bologna, where he died, Anno 1666, 
Aet. 76.  very rich, and highly commended for his extraordinary Piety, Prudence and Morality.  
NICOLO PUSSINO, the French Raphael, was the Descendent of a noble Family in Picardy, but born at Andely, a Town in Normandy, Anno 1594. 
1594.  He was seasoned in Literature at home, instructed in the Rudiments of Design at Paris, learned the Principles of Geometry, Perspective and Anatomy at Rome, practised after the Life in the Academy of Domenichino, and studied the Antiquities in company with the famous Sculptor Francisco Fiammingo, who was born in the same year, and lodged in the same house with him. His way, for the most part, was in Histories, with Figures about two or three feet high; and his Colouring inclined rather to the Antique than to Nature: but in all the other parts of Painting, he was profoundly excellent; and particularly the Beauty of his Genius appeared in his nice and judicious Observation of the Decorum in his Compositions, and in expressing the Passions and Affections with such incomparable skill, that all his Pieces seem to have the very Spirit of the Action, and the Life and Soul of the Persons whom they represent. He had not been in Rome above sixteen years, before his Name became so universally celebrated, that Cardinal Richlieu resolving to advance the noble Arts in France, prevailed upon him (by means of an obliging Letter, written to him by Lewis XIII. himself, Anno 1639) to return to his own Country: where he was received with all possible demonstrations of Esteem, was declared First Painter to the King, had a considerable Pension appointed him, was employed in several public Works, and at last undertook to paint the Grand Gallery of the Lovure. But the King and Cardinal both dying in the time that he went back to settle his affairs in Italy, and bring his Family from thence; he quite laid aside the Thoughts of returning any more to France, and ended his days in Rome, Anno 1665: 
Aet. 71.  having for some years before his Decease, been so much subject to the Palsy, that the effects of his unsteady Hand are visible in several of his Designs.  
PIETRO TESTA, his Contemporary, was a Native of Lucca, a City in the Dukedom of Florence, and so miserably poor upon his first arrival at Rome, that he was forced to make the public Streets his School, and the Statues, Buildings, Ruins, etc. the Lessons which he studied. He was a Man of a quick Head, a ready Hand, and a lively Spirit in most of his Performances: but yet for want of Science, and good Rules to cultivate and strengthen his Genius, all those hopeful Qualities soon ran to Weeds, and produced little else but Monsters, Chimaeras, and such like wild and extravagant Fancies: Vid. pag. 102. He attempted very often to make himself perfect in the Art of Colouring, but never had any Success that way; and indeed was only tolerable in his Drawings, and the Prints which he etch'd. He was drowned (as 'tis generally reported) in the Tiber, having accidentally fallen off from the Bank, as he was endeavouring to regain his Hat, which the Wind had blown into the Water.  
Sir ANTHONY VAN DICK, was born at Antwerp, Anno 1599, 
1599  and gave such early proofs of his most excellent Endowments, that Rubens his Master, fearing he would become as Universal as himself, to divert him from Histories, used to commend his Talon in Painting after the Life, and took such care to keep him continually employed in business of that Nature, that he resolved at last to make it his principal study; and for his Improvement went to Venice, where he attained the beautiful Colouring of Titian, Paulo Veronese, etc. And after a few years spent in Rome, Genova and Sicily, returned home to Flanders with a manner of Painting, so noble, natural, and easy, that Titian himself was hardly his Superior, and no other Master in the world equal to him for Portraits. He came over into England soon after Rubens had left it, and was entertained in the Service of King Charles I. who conceived a marvellous esteem for his Works, honoured him with Knight hood, presented him with his own Picture set round with Diamonds, assigned him a considerable Pension, sat very often to him for his Portrait, and was followed by most of the Nobility and principal Gentry of the Kingdom. He was a person low of stature, but well-proportioned; very handsome, modest, and extremely obliging; a great Encourager of all such as excelled in any Art or Science, and Generous to the very last degree. He married one of the fairest Ladies of the English Court, Daughter of the Lord Ruthen Earl of Gowry, and lived in State and Grandeur answerable to her Birth: His own Garb was generally very rich, his Coaches and Equippage magnificent, his Retinue numerous and gallant, his Table very splendid, and so much frequented by People of the best Quality of both Sexes, that his Apartments seemed rather to be the Court of some Prince, than the Lodgings of a Painter. He grew weary, towards the latter end of his Life, of the continued trouble that attended Face-Painting; and being desirous of immortalising his Name by some more glorious Undertaking, went to Paris in hopes of being employed in the Grand Gallery of the Lovure; but not succeeding there, he returned hither, and proposed to the King (by his Friend Sir Kenelm Digby) to make Cartoons for the Banqueting house at Whitehall: the subject of which was to have been the Institution of the Order of the Garter, the Procession of the Knights in their Habits, with the Ceremony of their Instalment, and St. George's Feast. But his Demands of fourscore thousand pounds, being thought unreasonable, whilst the King was upon treating with him for a less Sum, the Gout and other Distempers put an end to that Affair and his Life, Anno 1641; 
Aet. 42.  and his Body was interred in St. Paul's Church. See farther, pag. 226. And note, that amongst the Portraits of Illustrious Persons, etc. printed and published by the particular directions of this Master, some were etch'd in Aquafortis by Van Dick himself.  
BENEDETTO CASTIGLIONE, a Genovese, was at first a Disciple of Battista Paggi and Ferrari his Countrymen; improved himself afterwards by the instructions of Van Dick (as long as he continued in Genova) and at last became an Imitator of the Manner of Nicolo Poussin. He was commended for several very good Prints of his own etching: but in Painting his Inclinations led him to Figures, with Landtschapes and Animals; which he touched up with a great deal of Life and Spirit, and was particularly remarkable for a brisk Pencil, and a free handling in all his Compositions. He was a Person very unsettled in his Temper, and never loved to stay long in one place: but being continually upon the ramble, his Works lie scattered up and down in Genova, Rome, Naples, Venice, Parma, and Mantova, where he died.  
VIVIANO CODAZZO, generally called VIVIANO delle PROSPETTIVE, was born at Bergamo in the Venetian Territories, Anno 1599: 
1599  and by the Instructions of Augustino Tasso his Master, arrived to a most excellent manner of painting Buildings, Ruins, etc. His ordinary Residence was at Rome, where he died, Anno 1674, 
Aet. 75.  and was buried in the Church of S. Lorenzo in Lucina. He had a Son called Nicolo, who pursued his Father's steps, and died at Genova, in great Reputation for his Performances in Perspective.  
MARIO NUZZI, 
1599  commonly called MARIO d'ye FIORI, born at Orta in the Terra di Sabina, was a Disciple of his Uncle Tomaso Salini, and one of the most famous Masters in his time for painting Flowers. He died in Rome, (where he had spent great part of his Life) and was also buried in S. Lorenzo's Church, Anno 1672. 
Aet. 73.   
MICHELANGELO CERQUOZZI, was born in Rome, Anno 1600, 
1600.  and bred up in the School▪ of Antonio Salvatti, a Bolognese. He was called delle BATTAGLIE, from his excellent Talon in Battles; but besides his great skill in that particular Subject, he was very Successful in all sorts of Figures, and painted Fruit incomparably beyond any Master in Europe. He was buried in the Choir of S. Mary's Church in Rome, Anno 1660. 
Aet. 60.   
CLAUDIO GILLE of LORAIN, born Anno 1600, 
1600.  was by his Parents sent very young to Rome; and after he had been grounded in the Elements of Design, and the Rules of Perspective, under Augustino Tasso, he removed his Study to the Banks of the Tiber, and into the open Fields, took all his Lessons from Nature herself, and by many years diligent Imitation of that excellent Mistress, climbed up to the highest step of Perfection in Landscape painting: and was universally admired for his pleasant and most agreeable Invention; for the delicacy of his Colouring, and the charming variety and tenderness of his Tints; for his artful Distribution of the Lights and Shadows; and for his wonderful Conduct, in disposing his Figures for the advantage and Harmony of his Compositions. He was much commended for several of his Performances in Fresco as well as Oil, was employed by Pope Urban VIII. and many of the Italian Princes in adorning their Palaces: and having by his Pencil made his Name famous throughout Europe, died An. 1682, 
Aet. 82.  and was interred in the Church of Trinita de Monti, in Rome.  
GASPARO DUGHET, was of French Extraction, but born in Rome, Anno 1600. 
1600.  He took to himself the name of POUSSIN, in gratitude for many Favours, and particularly that of his Education, which he received from Nicolo Poussin, who married his Sister. His first Employment under his Brother-in-Law, was in looking after his Colours, Pencil, etc. but his excellent Genius for Painting soon discovering itself, by his own Industry and his Brother's Instructions was so well improved, that in Landtschapes (which he principally studied) he became one of the greatest Masters in his Age; and was much in request, for his easy Invention, solid judgement, regular Disposition, and true Resemblance of Nature in all his Works. He died in his great Climacterical year 1663., and was buried in his Parish-Church of S. Susanna, 
Aet. 63.  in Rome.  
In his time, lived and flourished ANDREA SACCHI, a celebrated Roman Master, highly extolled for his general Accomplishments in all the parts of Painting; but more particularly eminent for his extraordinary skill in the Elegance of Design, the Harmony of Order, and the Beauty of Colouring.  
His Competitor PIETRO BERETTINI da CORTONA, was also of great consideration in this time; and much applauded for his magnificent Works in several of the Churches and Palaces of Rome and Florence. He excelled both in Fresco and Oil, was profoundly read in the Antiquities, had a noble and rich Imagination, and a Genius far beyond any of his Contemporaries, for Ornaments and grand Historical Compositions. He was very well esteemed by Pope Urban VIII. Innocent X. and most of the Persons of the first Rank in Italy.  
GEERART DOV, born at Leyden, about the year 1607, 
1607.  was a Disciple of Rembrandt, but much pleasanter in his Style of Painting, and superior to him in little Figures. He was esteemed in Holland the best Master in his way: and tho' we must not expect to find in his works that Elevation of Thought, that Correctness of Design, or that noble Spirit, and grand Gusto, in which the Italians have distinguished themselves from the rest of Mankind; yet it must be acknowledged, that in the Management of his Pencil, and the Choice and Beauty of his Colours, he has been curious to the last degree; and in finishing his Pieces, laborious and patient beyond example. He died circa Annum 1674, 
Aet. 67.  leaving behind him many Scholars, of whom MIERIS the chief, was in several respects equal to his Master. But for the rest of his Imitators, generally speaking, we may place them in the same Form with the cunning Fools, mentioned pag. 133.  
ADRIAEN BROUWER was born in the City of Haerlem, Anno 1608; 
1608.  and besides his great Obligations to Nature, was very much beholden to Frans Hals, who took him from begging in the Streets, and instructed him in the Rudiments of Painting; And to make him amends for his kindness, Brouwer, when he found himself sufficiently qualified to get a Livelihood, ran away from his Master into France, and after a short stay there, returned, and settled at Antwerp. Humour was his proper Sphere, and it was in little Pieces that he used to represent Boors, and others his Pot●● companions, drinking, smoking Tobacco, gaming, fight, etc. with a Pencil so tender and free, so much of Nature in his Expression, such excellent Drawing in all the particular parts, and good Keeping in the whole together, that none of his Countrymen have ever been comparable to him in that Subject. He was extremely facetious and pleasant over his Cups, scorned to work as long as he had any Money in his Pockets, declared for a short Life and a merry one: and resolving to ride Post to his Grave, by the help of Wine and Brandy, got to his journeys end, Anno 1638; so very poor, that Contributions were raised to lay him privately in the Ground, from whence he was soon after taken up, and (as 'tis commonly said) very handsomely interred by Rubens, 
Aet. 30.  who was a great Admirer of his happy Genius for Painting.  
SAMUEL COOPER, born in London, Anno 1609, 
1609.  was bred up (together with his elder Brother Alexander) under the Care and Discipline of Mr. Hoskins his Uncle: but derived the most considerable advantages, from the Observations which he made on the Works of Van Dyck. His Pencil was generally confined to a Head only; and indeed below that part he was not always so successful as could be wished: but for a Face, and all the dependencies of it (Viz.) the graceful and becoming Air, the Strength, Relievo and noble Spirit, the Softness and tender liveliness of Flesh and Blood, and the loose and gentile management of the Hair, his Talon was so extraordinary, that for the Honour of our Nation, it may without Vanity be affirmed, he was (at least) equal to the most famous Italians; and that hardly any of his Predecessors has ever been able to show so much Perfection in so narrow a Compass. Answerable to his Abilities in this Art was his skill in Music: and he was reckoned one of the best Lutenists, as well as the most excellent Limner in his time. He spent several years of his Life abroad, was personally acquainted with the greatest Men of France, Holland, and his own Country, and by his Works more universally known in all the pars of Christendom. He died Anno 1672, 
Aet. 63.  and lies buried in Pancras Church, in the Fields.  
WILLIAM DOBSON, 
1610.  a Gentleman descended of a Family very eminent (at that time) in St. Alban, was born in St. Andrews Parish, in Holbourn, Anno 1610. Who first instructed him in the use of his Pencil is uncertain: of this we are well assured, that he was put out very early an Apprentice to one Mr. Peake, a Stationer and Trader in Pictures; and that Nature, his best Mistress, inclined him so powerfully to the practice of Painting after the Life, that had his Education been but answerable to his Genius, England might justly have been as proud of her Dobson, as Venice of her Titian, or Flanders of her Van Dyck. How much he was beholden to the latter of those great Men, may easily be seen in all his Works; no Painter having ever come up so near to the Perfection of that excellent Master, as this his happy Imitator. He was also farther indebted to the Generosity of Van Dick, in presenting him to King Charles I. who took him into his immediate Protection, kept him in Oxford all the while his Majesty continued in that City; sat several times to him for his Picture, and obliged the Prince of Wales, Prince Rupert, and most of the Lords of his Court to do the like. He was a fair, middle●● sized Man. of a ready Wit, and pleasing Conversation; was somewhat loose and irregular in his way of Living, and notwithstanding the many Opportunities which he had of making his Fortunes, died very poor, 
Aet. 37.  at his house in St. Martins-lane, Anno 1647.  
MICHAELANGELO PACE, born Anno 1610, 
1610.  and called di CAMPIDOGLIO (because of an Office which he had in the Capitol) was a Disciple of Fioravanti, and very much esteemed all over Italy, for his admirable Talon in painting Fruit and the still Life. He died in Rome, Anno 1670, leaving behind him two Sons; of whom Gio. Battista the eldest, was brought up to History painting under Francisco Mola, and is now in the Service of the King of Spain: But the other called Pietro, died in his Prime, and only lived just long enough to show that a few years more would have made him one of the greatest Masters in the World. 
Aet. 60.   
SALVATOR ROSA, a Neapolitan, born An. 1614, 
1614  in both the Sister-Arts of Poesy and Painting, was esteemed one of the most excellent Masters that Italy has produced in this Century. In the first, his Province was Satire; in the latter, Landtschapes, Battles, Havens, etc. with little Figures. He was a Disciple of Daniele Falconi his Countryman, and Artist of good repute; whose instructions he very much improved by his Study after the Antiquities, and the Works of the most eminent Painters who went before him. He was famed for his copious and florid Invention, for his profound judgement in the ordering of his Pieces, for the gentile and uncommon Management of his Figures, and his general Knowledge in all the parts of Painting: But that which gave a more particular stamp to his Compositions, was his inimitable Liberty of Pencil, and the noble Spirit with which he animated all his Works. Rome was the place where he spent the greatest part of his Life; highly courted and admired by all the Men of Note and Quality, and where he died Anno 1673; 
Aet. 59  having etch'd abundance of valuable Prints with his own hand.  
GIACOMO CORTESI, the famous Battel-painter, commonly called The BORGOGNONE, from the Country where he was born, was the Contemporary of Salvator Rosa, and equally applauded for his admirable Gusto, and grand Manner of Painting. He had for several years been conversant in Military Affairs, was a considerable Officer in the Army, made the Camp his School, and formed all his excellent Ideas from what he had seen performed in the Field. His Style was roughly noble, and (Soldier like) full of Fire and Spirit. He retired, towards the latter end of his Life, into the Convent of the jesuits in Rome: where he was forced to take Sanctuary (as they say) to rid his hands of an ill Bargain, which he had unhappily got in a Wife.  
Sir PETER LELY was born Anno 1617., 
1617.  in Westphalia, where his Father, being a Captain, happened to be then in Garrison. He was bred up for some time in the Hague, and afterwards committed to the care of one de Grebber of Haerlem. He came over into England, Anno 1641, and pursued the natural bent of his Genius in Landtschapes with small Figures, and Historical Compositions: but finding the practice of Painting after the Life generally more encouraged, he applied himself to Portraits with such success, as in a little time to surpass all his Contemporaries in Europe. He was very earnest in his younger days, to have finished the course of his Studies in Italy: but the great business in which he was perpetually engaged, not allowing him so much time; to make himself amends, he resolved at last, in an excellent and well chosen Collection of the Drawings, Prints, and Paintings, of the most celebrated Masters, to bring the Roman and Lombard Schools home to him. And what benefit he reaped from this Expedient, was sufficiently apparent in that admirable Style of Painting, which he formed to himself by daily conversing with the Works of those great Men: In the correctness of his Drawing, and the beauty of his Colouring; but especially in the graceful Airs of his Figures, the pleasing Variety of his Postures, and his gentile negligence and loose manner of Draperies: in which particular as few of his Predecessors were equal to him, so all succeeding Artists must stand obliged to his happy Invention, for the noble Pattern which he has left them for Imitation. He was recommended to the favour of King Charles I. by Philip Earl of Pembroke, then Lord Chamberlain; and drew his Majesty's Picture, when he was Prisoner in Hampton-Court. He was also much in esteem with his Son Charles II. who made him his Painter, conferred the honour of Knighthood upon him, and would oftentimes take great pleasure in his Conversation, which he found to be as agreeable as his Pencil. He was likewise highly respected by all the People of Eminence in the Kingdom; and indeed so extraordinary were his natural Parts, and so great his acquired Knowledge, that it would be hard to determine whether he was a better Painter, or a more accomplished Gentleman: or whether the Honours which he has done his Profession, or the Advantages which he derived from it were the most considerable. But as to his Art, certain it is, that his last Pieces were his best, and that he gained ground, and improved himself every day, even to the very Moment in which Death snatched his Pencil out of his hand in an Apoplectic Fit, 
Aet. 63.  Anno1680.  
SEBASTIAN BOURDON, a Frenchman, born at Mompellier, Anno 1619, 
1619.  studied seven years in Rome, and acquired so much Reputation by his Works both in History and Landscape, that upon his return to France, he had the honour of being the first who was made Rector of the Royal Academy of Painting and Sculpture at Paris. He spent two years also in Sweden, where he was very well esteemed, and nobly presented by that great Patroness of Arts and Sciences, 
Aet. 54.  Queen Christina. He died, Anno. 1673.  
LUCA JORDANO, was born in Naples, Anno 1626., 
1626.  and by his Studies under Pietro da Cortona at Rome, joined with his continued Application to all the noble Remains of Antiquity, became one of the best accomplished, and most universal Masters in his time. He was wonderfully skilled in the practical part of Designing, and from his incredible Facility, and prodigious Dispatch, was called by his Fellow-Painters, Luca fà Presto. He was besides very happy in imitating the different Styles of other great Men, and particularly followed the manner of Titian, Bassan, Tintoret, Guido, etc. so close in several of his Pieces, that it is not the talon of every Pretender to Painting, to distinguish them from Originals of those Hands. He was famous for his many excellent Performances in Rome and Florence: And being continually employed in working for Princes, and People of the first Quality all over Europe, grew so vastly rich, that at his return to Naples, he purchased a Duchy in that Kingdom, married and lived splendidly, kept a noble Palace, and a numerous Retinue, with Coaches, Litters, and all other imaginable State. Being grown Old, he was earnestly pressed by the Viceroy to go over into Spain, and serve the King his Master: He had no fancy for the Voyage, and therefore raised his Terms very high: was not content with twenty thousand Crowns paid him down, and the Golden Key given him, as Groom of the Bed-chember; but besides, having heard, that by the Statutes of St. jago, and the other Military Orders of Spain, it was expressly provided, that no Painter should be admitted into any of them, because their Profession was generally looked upon as Mechanic; he resolved, for the Honour of his Art, not to stir a foot, till he himself was first made a Knight of St. jago, and his two Sons Knights of Alcantara and Calatrava. All which being granted, he set out for Madrid, where he was received very kindly by the King, and having adorned the grand Staircase of the Escurial, with the Story of the Battle of St. Quintin, (which is perhaps one of the best things in its kind, that has been any where performed in this Age) he fell to work upon the great Church belonging to that Palace; but the Climate being too severe for his Constitution of Body, and his Mind not so well satisfied as at Naples, 
Aet. 68  he sickened and died in the Winter of the year 1694.  
In the same year died FILIPPO LAURO, a Master equal to him in all respects, excepting only that by confining himself to small Figures, and Histories in little, he contracted his admirable Talon into a narrower Compass. He lived for the most part in Rome; and was highly valued for the Riches of his Fancy, and the Accuracy of his judgement; for the Elegance of his Out-lines, and the Propriety of his Colouring; and for the graceful Freedom of his Pencil, in all his Compositions.  
JOHN RILEY, born in the City of London, Anno 1646, 
1646.  was instructed in the first Rudiments of Painting by Mr. Zoust and Mr. Fuller, but left them whilst he was very Young, and began to practise after the Life: yet acquired no great Reputation, till upon the death of Sir Peter Lely, his Friends being desirous that he should succeed that excellent Master in the favour of King Charles II. engaged Mr. Chiffinch to sit to him for his Picture; which he performed so well, that the King, upon sight of it, sent for him, and having employed him in drawing the Duke of Graftons' Portrait, and soon after his own, took him into his Service, honoured him with several obliging Testimonies of his Esteem, and withal gave this Character of his Works, that he painted both Inside and Outside. Upon the Accession of K. William and Q. Mary to the Crown, he was sworn their Majesty's Principal Painter; which place he had not enjoyed in the preceding Reign, tho' K. james and his Queen were both pleased to be drawn by his Hand. He was very diligent in the Imitation of Nature; and by studying the Life, rather than following any particular manner, attained a pleasant and most agreeable Style of Painting. But that which eminently distinguished him from all his Contemporaries, was his peculiar Excellence in a Head, and especially in the Colouring part; wherein some of his Pieces were so very extraordinary, that Mr. Riley himself was the only Person who was not charmed with them. He was a Gentleman extremely courteous in his Behaviour, obliging in his Conversation, and prudent in all his Actions. He was a dutiful Son, an affectionate Brother, a kind Master, and a faithful Friend. He never was guilty of a piece of Vanity (too common amongst Artists) of saying mighty things on his own behalf, but contented himself with letting his Works speak for him; which being plentifully dispersed over other Nations as well as our own, were indeed everywhere very Eloquent in his Commendation. He had for several years been violently persecuted by the Gout; which after many terrible Assaults, flying up at last into his Head, brought him to his Grave, Anno 1691, exceedingly lamented by all such as had the happiness of being acquainted either with his Person or his Works. 
Aet. 45.   
FINIS.   

Ancient Master's Contained in the preceding ACCOUNT.  

A.  
ACtius Priscus. pag. 250  
Amphion. 245  
Antidote. 246  
Apelles. 242  
Apollodorus. 237  
Ardices. 233  
arelius. 250  
Aristides. 245  
Asclepiodorus. ib.  
Athenion. 247   

B.  
Bularchus. 235   

C.  
Charmas. 234  
Cimon. 234  
Cleanthes. 233  
Cleophantus. 234  
Cornelius Pinus. 250  
Crato. 233  
Cydias. 242   

D.  
Dinias. 234   

E.  
Euchir. 233  
Eumarus. 234  
Euphranor. 241  
Eupompus. 240   

F.  
Fabius Pictor. 248   

H.  
Hygiemon. 234   

L.  
Ludius. 250   

M.  
Marcus Pacuvius. 249  
Melanthius. 244  
Metrodorus. 249  
Myron. 237   

N.  
Nealces. 248  
Nicias. 247  
Nicomachus. 246  
Nicophanes. ib.   

P.  
Pamphilus. 240  
Panaenus. 235  
Parrhasius. 239  
Pausias. 241  
Phidias. 235  
Philocles. 233  
Polignotus Atheniensis 233  
Thasius. 237  
Polycletus. 236  
Praxiteles. 242  
Protogenes. 243  
Pyre●●cus. 246   

S.  
Saurias. 233  
Scopas. 237   

T.  
Telephanes. 233  
Theomnestus. 246  
Timanthes. 240  
Timomachus. 249  
Turpilius. 250   

Z.  
Zeuxis. 238    

Modern Masters.  

A.  
ALbani. pag. 320  
Albert Durer. 263  
Andrea 

Mantegna. 258  
Sacchi. 336  
deal Sarto. 270  
Schiavone. 296  
Ta●●i. 255  
Verrocchio. 259    
Annibale Carracci. 308  
Antonello da Messina 256  
Antonio 

Carracci. 309  
damn Correggio. 264  
More. 295  
Tempesta. 305    
Artemisia Gentileschi. 320  
Agostino Carracci. 306   

B.  
Badalocchi (Sisto.) 324  
Bandinelli (Baccio.) 273  
Bamboccio. 326  
Barocci (Frederico.) 297  
Bartolomeo (Fra.) 263  
Bassano 

Francisco. 291  
Giacomo. 289  
Gio. Battista. 291  
Girolamo. ib.  
Leandro. ib.    
Battaglie (M. Angelo.) 334  
Battista Franco. 277  
Bellino 

Gentile. 357  
Giovanni. ib.    
Benedetto 

Caliari. 301  
Castiglione. 332    
Bordone (Paris.) 294  
Borgognone. 342  
Bourdon (Sebastian.) 345  
Brueghel (Fluweelen.) 315  
Bril 

Matthew. 305  
Paul. ib.    
Brouwer. 337  
Buonaroti (M. Angelo.) 265   

C.  
Caliari 

Benedetto. 301  
Carlo. 300  
Gabrielle. ib.  
Paolo. 299    
Camillo Procaccini. 310  
Campidoglio (M. Angelo.) 341  
Carl●● Antonio Procaccini. 310  
Carracci 

Annibale. 308  
Antonio. 309  
Agostino. 306  
Lodovico. ib.    
Caravaggio (M. Angelo.) 313  
Castiglione (Benedetto.) 332  
Cimabue. 253  
Claudio Gille (Lorain.) 334  
Cooper (Samuel.) 338  
Correggio. 264   

D.  
Daniele da Volterra. 288  
Dobson. 339  
Domenichino. 321  
Domenico 

Feti. 303  
Ghirlandaio. 262  
Tintoretto. 293    
Dou. 337  
Durer (Albert.) 263   

E.  
Elsheimer. 315  
Ercole Procaccini. 311   

F.  
Feti (Domenico.) 303  
Farinato (Paolo.) 296  
Filippo 

Lauro. 347  
Neapolitano. 314    
Francisco 

Albani. 320  
Barbieri. 327  
Bassano. 291  
Francia. 262  
Mazzuoli. 286  
Primaticcio. 282  
Salviati. 288  
Vanni. 312  
Vecellio. 269    
Franco (Battista.) 277  
Frederico 

Barocci. 297  
Zucchero. 302    
Fresnoy (C. Alphonse.) 325   

G.  
Gaddi 

Gaddo. 255  
Taddeo. ib.    
Gasparo Poussin. 335  
Gentileschi 

Artemisia. 320  
Oratio. 319    
Giorgione. 266  
Giorgio Vasari. 294  
Ghirlandaio (Domenico) 262  
Giacomo 

Bassano. 289  
Cortesi. 342  
damn Puntormo. 275  
Tintoretto. 292    
Gio. Battista Bassano. 291  
Gioseppe 

Ribera. 323  
Salviati. 301    
Gioseppino. 311  
Giottino. 256  
Giotto. 254  
Girolamo Bassano. 291  
Giulio Cesare Procaccini. 310  
Giulio 

Clovio. 282  
Romano. 274    
Guercino da Cento. 327  
Guido Reni. 316   

H.  
Hans Holbein. 283   

I.  
john of Bruges. 256  
jordano (Luca.) 345   

L.  
Lanfranco. 324  
Lauro (Filippo.) 347  
Leandro Bassano. 291  
Lely (Sir Peter.) 343  
Leonardo da Vinci. 260  
Lodovico Carracci. 306  
Luca 

jordano. 345  
Signorelli. 259    
Lucas van Leyden. 277   

M.  
Mantegna (Andrea.) 258  
Margaritone. 255  
Marietta Tintoretta. 293  
Mario di Fiori. 334  
Masaccio. 257  
Matthew Bril. 305  
Michel-angelo 

delle Battaglie. 334  
Buonoroti. 265  
di Campidoglio. 341  
da Caravaggio. 313    
More (Antonio.) 295   

N.  
Neapolitano (Filippo.) 314  
Nicolò 

dell' Abbate. 282  
Pussino. 328     

O.  
Oratio 

Gentileschi. 319  
Vecellio. 269     

P.  
Palma 

Giovane. 303  
Vecchio. 287    
Paris Bordone. 294  
Parmegiano. 286  
Paolo 

Farinato. 296  
Veronese. 299    
Paul Bril. 305  
Pierino del Vaga. 285  
Pieter van Laer. 326  
Pietro 

da Cortona. 336  
di Cosimo. 260  
Perugino. 261  
Testa. 329    
Pirro Ligorio. 289  
Po●●lenburch. 326  
Polidoro. 279  
Pordenone. 271  
Primaticcia. 282  
Procaccini 

Camillo. 310  
Carl' Antonio. ib.  
Ercole. 311  
Giulio Cesare. 310    
Puntormo (Giacomo.) 275  
Pussino 

Gasparo. 335  
Nicolò. 328     

Q.  
Quintin Matsys. 278   

R.  
Rafaelle damn Vrbino. 270  
Ricciarelli (Daniele.) 288  
Riley (John.) 247  
Rotenhamer. 312  
Rosso. 280  
Rubens. 317   

S.  
Sacchi (Andrea.) 336  
Salvator Rosa. 341  
Salviati 

Francisco. 288  
Gioseppe. 301    
Sarto (Andrea deal.) 270  
Schiavone (Andrea.) 296  
Sebastian Bourdon 345  
Sebastiano del Piombo. 272  
Singnorelli (Luca.) 259  
Simone Memmi. 255  
Sisto Badalocchi. 324  
Snyders. 321  
Spagnoletto (Ribera.) 323  
Sprangher. 303   

T.  
Taddeo Zucchero. 298  
Taffis (Andera.) 255  
Tempesta (Antonio.) 305  
Testa (Pietro.) 329  
Tintoretta (Marietta.) 293  
Tintoretto 

Domenico. ib.  
Giacomo. 292    
Titiano. 267   

V.  
Van Dyck. 330  
Vanni (Francisco.) 312  
Vasari (Giorgio.) 294  
Vdine (Giovanni da.) 276  
Vecellio 

Francisco. 269  
Oratio. ib.    
Veronese (Paolo.) 299  
Verrocchio (Andrea.) 259  
Vinci (Leonardo da.) 260  
Viola. 317  
Viviano. 333  
Volterra (Daniele da.) 288  
Vovet (Simon.) 324   

Z.  
Zampieri (Domenico.) 321  
Zucchero 

Frederico. 302  
Taddeo. 298      

ERRATA.  
Page Line Instead of Read. seven 21 Bambovio. Bamboccio. 17 7 liberataque librataque 21 Marg positurorum. positurarum. 41 18 transluent. translucent. 98 17 51st. rule. 60th. Rule. 110 21 Neglecting the Copiers. The Copiers neglecting. ib. 25 reltaion. relation. 120 14 43d. Precept. 13th. Precept. 128 19 indishabile. en dishabillee. 136 11 4th. Precept. 41st. Precept. 161 2 it comprehends. comprehends. 219 12 his Brothers. his Sons. 221 21 gentleness. gentileness. 237 14 great. general. 254 12 Benedict IX. Benedict XI. 325 15 Richlieu. Richelieu. 329 5