A 
 
 DISCOURSE, &c» 
 
 [ Price is, bcL ] 
 
B 
 
 Cl 
 
 /I 
 
 
 n 
 
 
 <:• y 
 
A 
 
 DISCOURSE, 
 
 DELIVERED TO THE 
 
 STUDENTS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 ROYAL ACADEMY, 
 
 ON THE 
 
 Diftribution of the Prizes, December 14, 1770, 
 
 BY THE 
 
 PRESIDENT. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 Sold by THOMAS DAVIES, Bookseller to the 
 ROYAL ACADEMY. 
 
 MDCCLXXI. 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2016 
 
 https://archive.org/details/discoursedeliver00reyn_0 
 
( * ) 
 
 A 
 
 DISCOURSE, &c. 
 
 GENTLEMEN, 
 
 I T is not eafy to fpeak with 
 propriety to fo many (Indents 
 of different ages and different degrees of advancement. 
 The mind requires nourifhment adapted to its growth; and 
 what may have promoted our earlier efforts, might retard 
 us in our nearer approaches to perfection. 
 
 The firft endeavours of a young Painter, as I have re- 
 marked in a former difcourfe, muft be employed in the 
 attainment of mechanical dexterity, and confined to the 
 mere imitation of the objeCt before him. Thofe who have 
 advanced beyond the rudiments, may, perhaps, find ad- 
 B vantage 
 
( * ) 
 
 vantage in reflecting on the advice which I have likewife 
 given them, when I recommended the diligent ftudy of the 
 works of our great predecefTors ; but I at the fame time 
 endeavoured to guard them againd an implicit fubmiflion to 
 the authority of any one mailer however excellent ; 
 by a Arid imitation of his manner. I will now add that 
 nature herfelf is not to be too clofely copied. There are ex- 
 cellencies in the Art of Painting beyond what is commonly 
 called the imitation of nature : and thefe excellencies I 
 wiih to point out. The dudents who, having palled through 
 the initiatory exercifes, are more advanced in the art, and 
 who, fure of their hand, have leifure to exert their under- 
 danding, mud: now be told, that a mere copier of nature 
 can never produce any thing great, can never raife and 
 enlarge the conceptions, or warm the heart of the fpedator. 
 
 The with of the genuine Painter mud: be more extenhve: 
 indead of endeavouring to amufe mankind with the minute 
 neatnefs of his imitations, he mud endeavour to improve 
 them by the grandeur of his ideas ; indead of feeking 
 praife, by deceiving the fuperficial fenfe of the fpedator, 
 lie mud drive for fame, by captivating the imagination. 
 
 The 
 
( 3 ) 
 
 The principle now laid down, that the perfedfion of 
 this Art does not conliSt in mere imitation, is far from 
 being new or lingular. It is, indeed, fupported by the 
 general opinion of the enlightened part of mankind. The 
 Poets, Orators, and Rhetoricians of antiquity, are con- 
 tinually enforcing this pofition, that all the arts receive 
 their perfection from an ideal beauty, fuperior to what is 
 to be found in individual nature. They are ever referring 
 to the practice of the Painters and Sculptors of their times, 
 particularly Phidias (the favourite A r till; of Antiquity) to 
 illustrate their aSTertions. As if they could not Sufficiently 
 exprefs their admiration of his genius by what they knew, 
 they have recourfe to poetical enthuliafm. They call it 
 Infpiration, a Gift from Heaven; the artifb is fuppofed 
 to have afcended the celeStial regions, to furniSh his mind 
 with this perfedt Idea of beauty. “ He,” fays Proclus*, 
 “ who takes for his model Such forms as nature produces, 
 “ and coniines himfelf to an exadt imitation of them, will 
 ct never attain to what is perfedtly beautiful. For the 
 “ works of nature are full ol disproportion, and fall very 
 “ Short of the true Standard of beauty. So that Phidias, 
 “ when he formed his Jupiter, did not copy any objedt ever 
 
 * Lib. 2, in Timasum Platonis, as cited by Junius de Pidtura veterum. 
 
 u prefen ted 
 
( 4 ) 
 
 <c prefented to his light ; but contemplated only that 
 “ image which he had conceived in his mind from 
 tc Homer’s defcription.” And thus Cicero, fpeaking of the 
 fame Phidias ; <c Neither did this artift,” fays he, tc wiien he 
 “ carved the image of Jupiter or Minerva, fet before him 
 61 any one human figure, as a pattern, which he was to 
 44 copy ; but having a more perfect Idea of beauty fixed in 
 44 his mind, this he fleadily contemplated, and to the 
 <c imitation of this all his Ikiil and labour were dire&ed.” 
 
 The Moderns are not lefs convinced than the Ancients of 
 this fuperior power exifting in the Art ; nor lefs -confcious of 
 its effects. Every language has adopted terms exprellive of 
 this excellence ; the Gufto grande of the Italians ; the Beau 
 ideal of the French ; and the great fly le^ genius , and tafte 
 among the Englifh, are but different appellations of the 
 fame thing. It is this intellectual dignity, they fay, that 
 enobles the Painter’s art, that lays the line between him 
 and the mere mechanic, and produces thofe great efFeCls in 
 an inftant, which eloquence and poetry, by flow and repeated 
 efforts, are fcarcely able to attain. 
 
 Such is the warmth with which both the Antients and 
 Moderns fpeak of this divine art ; but, as I have formerly 
 
 obferved, 
 
( s ) 
 
 obferved, enthufiaftic admiration feldom promotes know- 
 ledge. Though a Student by fuch praife may have his 
 attention roufed, and a defire excited, of running in 
 this great career ; yet it is pofiible that what has 
 been faid to excite, may only ferve to deter him. He 
 examines his own mind, and perceives there nothing 
 of that divine infpiration, with which, he is told, fo 
 many others have been favoured. He never travelled to 
 Heaven to gather new ideas ; and he finds himfelf pofteffed 
 of no other qualifications than what mere common fenfe 
 and a plain underflanding can confer. Thus he becomes 
 gloomy amidft the fplendor of figurative declamation, and 
 thinks it hopelefs, to purfue an object which he fuppofes out 
 of the reach of human indufiry. 
 
 But on this, as upon many other occafions, we ought 
 to difiinguifh how much is to be given to enthufiafm, and 
 how much to reafon. We ought to allow for, and we ought 
 to commend, that ftrength of vivid exprefiion, which is 
 neceflary to convey, in its full force, the highefi: fenfe of the 
 mod: complete effedt of art; taking care at the fame time, 
 not to lofe in terms of vague admiration, that folidity and 
 truth of principle, upon which alone we can reafon, and 
 may be enabled to pra&ice. 
 
 C 
 
 It 
 
( « ) 
 
 It is not eafy to define in what this great fiyle confifis ; 
 nor to defcribe, by words, the proper means of acquiring it; 
 if the mind of the Student fhould be at all capable of fuch an 
 acquifition. Could we teach tafte or genius by rules, they 
 would be no longer tafte and genius. But though there 
 neither are, nor can be, any precife invariable rules for the 
 exercife, or the acquifition, of thefe great qualities ; yet we 
 may as truly fay that they always operate in proportion to^ 
 our attention in obferving the works of nature, to our {kill 
 in fele&ing, and to our care in digefting, methodizing, and 
 comparing our obfervations. There are many beauties in our 
 art, that feem at firft, to lie without the reach of precept,, 
 and yet may eafily be reduced to practical principles* 
 Experience is all in all ; but it is not every one who profits- 
 by experience; and moft people err, not fo much from want 
 of capacity to find their objedt, as from not knowing what 
 cbjedt to purfue. This great ideal perfection and beauty 
 are not to be fought in the heavens, but upon the earth* 
 They are about us, and upon every fide of us. But the 
 power of difcovering what is deformed in nature, or in 
 other words, what is particular and uncommon, can be 
 acquired only by experience ; and the whole beauty and 
 grandeur of the art confifts, in my opinion, in being able 
 
 to 
 
( 7 ) 
 
 to get above all lingular forms, local cuftoms, particulari- 
 ties, and details of every kind.. 
 
 All the obje&s which are exhibited to our view by nature, 
 upon clofe examination will be found to have their blemilhes 
 and defeats. The moft beautiful forms have fomethingr about 
 them like weaknefs, minutenefs, or imperfe<ftion. But it is. 
 not every eye that perceives thefe blemilhes; it mult be an 
 eye long ufed to the contemplation and comparifon of thefe 
 forms ; and which, by a long habit of obferving what any 
 fet of obje<fts of the fame kind have in common, has ac- 
 quired the power of difcerning what each wants in par- 
 ticular. This long laborious comparifon fhould be the firfb 
 ftudy of the painter, who aims at the greateft ftyle. By 
 this means, he acquires a juft Idea of beautiful forms; he 
 corrects nature by herfelf, her imperfect ftate by her more 
 perfect. His eye being enabled to diftinguifh the accidental 
 deficiencies, excrefcences and deformities of things from 
 their general figures, he makes out an abftradf idea of their 
 forms more perfect than any one original; and what may 
 feem a paradox, he learns to delign naturally by drawing 
 his figures unlike to any one objecft. This idea of the 
 perfect ftate of nature, which the artift calls the Ideal Beauty, 
 is the great leading principle, by which works of genius 
 
 are 
 
( 8 ) 
 
 are concluded. By this Phidias acquired his fame. He 
 wrought upon a fober principle, what has fo much excited 
 the enthufiafm of the world ; and by this method you, who 
 have courage to tread the fame path, may acquire equal 
 reputation. 
 
 This is the idea which has acquired, and which feems to 
 have a right to the epithet of Divine ; as it may be faid to 
 prefide, like a fupreme judge, over all the productions of 
 nature ; appearing to be poffeffed of the will and intention 
 of the Creator, as far as they regard the external form of 
 living beings. 
 
 When a man once poffeffes this idea in its perfection, 
 there is no danger, but that he will be fufficiently warmed 
 by it himfelf, and be able to warm and ravifh every one elfe. 
 
 Thus it is from a reiterated experience, and a clofe com- 
 parifon of the objects in nature, that an artift becomes 
 poffeffed of the idea of that central form, if I may fo ex- 
 prefs it, from which- every deviation is deformity. But the 
 inveftigation of this form 1 grant is painful, and I know but 
 of one method of fhortening the road ; this is, by a careful 
 ffudy of the works of the antient fculptors ; who, being 
 
 indefatigable 
 
( 9 ) 
 
 Indefatigable in the fchool of nature, have left models of 
 that perfed form behind them, which an artift would prefer 
 as fupremelv beautiful, who had fpent his whole life in that 
 fingle contemplation. But if indudry carried them thus far, 
 may not you alfo hope for the fame reward from the fame 
 labour ? We have the fame fchool opened to us, that was 
 opened to them; for nature denies her indrudions to none, 
 who defire to become her pupils. 
 
 To the principle I have laid down, that the idea of 
 beauty in each fpecies of Beings is invariably one, it may be 
 objeded, that in every fpecies there are various central 
 forms, which are feparate and didind from each other, and 
 yet are undeniably beautiful ; that in the human figure, 
 for indance, the beauty of the Hercules is one, of the Gla- 
 diator another, of the Apollo another ; which makes fo 
 many different ideas of beauty. 
 
 It is true, indeed, that thefe figures are each perfed in 
 their kind, though of different charaders and proportions ; 
 but dill neither of them is the reprefentation of an individual, 
 but of a clafs. And as there is one general form, which, 
 as 1 have faid, belongs to the human kind at large, fo in 
 each of thefe clades there is one common idea and central 
 D form. 
 
( *° ) 
 
 form, which is the abftraCt of the various individual forms 
 belonging to that clafs. Thus, though the forms of child- 
 hood and age differ exceedingly ; there is a common form 
 in childhood, and a common form in age, which is the 
 more perfect, as it is more remote from all peculiarities. 
 But I muff add further, that though the mod: perfeCt forms 
 of each of the general divifions of the human figure are 
 ideal, and fuperior to any individual form of that clafs ; 
 yet the higheft perfection of the human figure is not to be 
 found in any one of them ; it is not in the Hercules, nor 
 in the Gladiator, nor in the Apollo ; but in that form 
 which is compounded of them all, and which partakes 
 equally of the activity of the Gladiator, of the delicacy of 
 the Apollo, and of the mufcular ftrength of the Hercules. 
 For perfed beauty in any fpecies muff combine all the 
 characters which are beautiful in that fpecies. It cannot 
 confift in any one to the exclufion of the reft : no one, 
 therefore, muff be predominant, that no one may be defi- 
 cient. 
 
 The knowledge of thefe different characters, and the 
 power of feparating and diftinguifhing them, is undoubt- 
 edly neceffary to the painter, who is to vary his competi- 
 tions with figures of various forms and proportions, though 
 
 he 
 
( ” ) 
 
 lie is never to lofe fight of the general idea of perfection 
 in each kind. 
 
 There is, likewife, a kind of fymmetry, or proportion, 
 which may properly be faid to belong to deformity. A 
 figure lean or corpulent, tall or fiiort, though deviating 
 from beauty, may ftill have a certain union of the various 
 parts, which may contribute to make them on the whole, 
 not unpleafing.; 
 
 When the Artift has by diligent attention acquired a 
 clear and diftind idea of beauty and fymmetry ; when he 
 has reduced the variety of nature to the abflradt idea ; his 
 next talk will be to become acquainted with the genuine 
 habits of nature, as diflinguifhed from thofe of fafhion. For 
 in the fame manner, and on the fame principles, as he has 
 acquired the knowledge of the real forms of nature, diftind 
 from accidental deformity, he mull endeavour to feparate 
 fimple chafle nature, from thofe adventitious, thofe affected 
 and forced airs or adions, with which fhe is loaded by 
 modern education. 
 
 Perhaps I cannot better explain what I mean, than by 
 reminding you of what was taught us, by the Profeffor of 
 
 Anatomy, 
 
( 12 ) 
 
 Anatomy, in refped to the natural pofition and movement 
 of the feet. He obferved that the fafhion of turning them 
 outwards was contrary to the intent of nature, as might be 
 feen from the ftru&ure of the bones, and from the weaknefs 
 that proceeded from that manner of /landing. To this we 
 may add the ere<5f pofition of the head, the proje&ion of 
 the chef!:, the walking with flrait knees, and many fuch 
 a&ions, which are merely the refult of fafhion, and what 
 nature never warranted, as we are fure that we have been 
 taught them when children. 
 
 I have mentioned but a few of thofe inflances, in which 
 .vanity or caprice have contrived to diftort and disfigure 
 the human form ; your own recolle&ion will add to 
 thefe a thoufand more of ill-underftood methods, that have 
 been pradifedto difguife nature, among our dancing-mailers, 
 hair-drefiers, and taylors, in their various fchools of de- 
 formity*. 
 
 However the mechanic and ornamental arts may facrifice 
 to fafhion, fhe mull be entirely excluded from the Art of 
 
 “ * Thofe,” fays Quintilian, “who are taken with the outward fhewof things, 
 “ think that there is more beauty in perfons, who are trimmed, curled and 
 “ painted, than uncorrupt nature can give j as if beauty were merely the effect 
 “ of the corruption of manners.” 
 
 Painting; 
 
( *3 ) 
 
 Painting ; the painter mull never miftake this capricious 
 changeling for the genuine offspring of nature; he muff 
 dived: hirafelf of all prejudices in favour of his age or coun- 
 try; he muil difregard all local, and temporary ornaments, 
 and look only on thofe general habits that are every where 
 and always the fame. He addreffes his works to the people 
 of every country and every age ; he calls upon poderity to 
 be his fpedlators, and fays with Zeuxis, In ceternitatem 
 
 The negled of feparating modern falhions from the 
 habits of nature, leads to that ridiculous ftile which has 
 been pra&ifed by fome painters, who have given to 
 Grecian Heroes the airs and graces pradtifed in the court of 
 Lewis the Fourteenth ; an abfurdity almod as great as it 
 would have been to have dreffed them after tire fafhioa 
 of that court. 
 
 To avoid this error, however, and to retain the true 
 limplicity of nature, is a talk more difficult than at firft 
 light it may appear. The prejudices in favour of the 
 falhions and cuiloms that we have been ufed to, and which 
 are judly called a fecond nature, make it too often difficult 
 to didinguilh that which is natural, from that which is the 
 E refult 
 
C 14 )' 
 
 refiilt of education ; they frequently even give a predilec- 
 tion in favour of the artificial mode ; and almoft every one. 
 is apt to be guided by thofe local prejudices who has not. • 
 chaftifed his mind, and regulated the infhability of his.affecr 
 lions,, by the eternal invariable idea of nature. 
 
 Here then, as before, we muft have recourfe to the. 
 Ancients as inftrudors. It is from a careful fludy of their 
 works that you will be enabled to attain to the real fimpli-? 
 city of nature ; they will fuggeft many obfervations, which 
 would probably efcape you, if your fludy were confined to • 
 nature alone. And, indeed, I cannot help fufpeding, that 
 in this inflance, the Ancients had an eafier talk than the. 
 moderns*. They had, probably, little or nothing to un- 
 learn, as their manners were nearly approaching to this de- 
 iirable fimplicity; while the modern artift, before he can . 
 fee the truth of things, is obliged to remove a veil, with 
 which the faftiion of the times has thought proper to cover 
 jier,. 
 
 Having gone thus far in our invefligation of the great 
 H.ile in painting; if we now fhould fuppofe that the artift 
 has formed the true idea of beauty, which enables him to 
 give his works a correct and perfed defign ; if we fhould 
 
 fuppofe 
 
( *s ) 
 
 ftippofe alfo, that he has acquired a knowledge of the un- 
 adulterated habits of nature, which gives him fimplicity ; 
 the reft of his talk is, perhaps, lefs than is generally imagined. 
 Beauty and limplicity have fo great a (hare in the compolH- 
 tion of a great ftile, that he who has acquired them has 
 little elfe to learn. It muft not, indeed, be forgot, that 
 there is a noblenefs of conception, which goes beyond any. 
 thing in the mere exhibition, even of perfect form; there 
 is an art of animating and dignifying the figures with 
 intellectual grandeur, of imprefting the appearance of phi- 
 lofophic wifdom, or heroick virtue. This can only be ac- 
 quired by him that enlarges the fphere of his underftanding _ 
 by a variety of knowledge, and warms his imagination with ; 
 the bteft productions of antient and modern poetry. 
 
 A hand thus exercifed, and a mind thus inftruCted, will : 
 bring the Art to an higher degree of excellence than, perhaps, , 
 it has hitherto attained in this country. Such a ftudent 
 will difdain the humbler walks of painting, which, however 
 profitable, can never allure him a permanent reputation. 
 He will leave the meaner artift fervilely to fuppofe that thofe 
 are the beft piftures, which are moft likely to deceive the. 
 fpe&ator. lie will permit the lower painter, like the florid 
 or collector of fhells, to exhibit the minute difcriminations, 
 
 which. . 
 
( 1 6 ) 
 
 '.which dillinguiili one object of the fame fpecies from 
 another; while he like the philofopher will conlider nature 
 in the abllraCt, and reprefent in every one of his figures the 
 .character of its fpecies. 
 
 If deceiving the eye were the only bufinefs of the 
 Art, there is no doubt, indeed, but the minute painter 
 would be more apt to fucceed : but it is not the eye, it is 
 the mind, which the painter of genius defires to addrefs ; 
 nor will he wafle a moment upon thefe fmaller objects, 
 .which only ferve to catch the fenfc, to divide the attention, 
 .and to counteract his great defign of fpeaking to the heart. 
 
 This is the ambition I could wifli to excite in your minds ; 
 and the objedt I have had in my view, throughout this 
 difcourfe, is that one great idea of the Art, which gives it 
 its true dignity, that entitles it to the name of a Liberal 
 Art, and ranks it as a filler of poetry. 
 
 It may pofiibly have happened to many young ftudents 
 whofe application was fufficient to overcome all difficulties, 
 and whofe minds were capable of embracing the moll ex- 
 tenfive views, that they have, by a wrong direction originally 
 given, fpent their lives in the meaner walks of painting, 
 
 without 
 
( *7 ) 
 
 without ever knowing there was a nobler to purfue. Albert 
 Durer, asVafari has juflly remarked, would, probably, have 
 been one of the firft painters of his age (and he lived in 
 an asra of great artifts) had he been initiated into thofe great 
 principles of the Art, which were fo well underflood, and 
 praCtifed, by his contemporaries in Italy. But unluckily 
 having never feen or heard of any other manner, he con- 
 fidered his own, without doubt, as perfeCh 
 
 As for the various departments of the Art, which do not 
 prefume to make fuch high pretentions, they are many ; 
 none of them are without their merit, though none enter 
 into competition with this great univerfal preliding idea of 
 the Art. The painters who have applied themfelves more 
 particularly to low and vulgar characters, and who exprefs 
 with precifion, the various lhades of paflion, as they are 
 exhibited by vulgar minds (fuch as we fee in the works of 
 Hogarth) deferve great praife ; but as their genius has been 
 employed on low and confined fubjeCts, the praife that 
 we give muft be as limited as its cbjeCt. The merry- 
 making, or quarrelling of the Boors of Teniers ; the fame 
 fort of productions of Brouwer, or Oftade, are excellent in 
 their kind. So likewife are the French gallantries of 
 Watteau ; the landfeapes of Claude Lorraine ; the fea- 
 JF pieces 
 
( i-S ) 
 
 pieces of Vandervelde ; the battles of Burgognone; and the 
 views of Cannaletti. All thefe painters have, in general, the 
 fame right, in different degrees, to the name of a Painter., 
 which a fatiriff, an epigrammatift, a fonnetteer, a writer 
 of paftorals, or defcripdve poetry, has to that of a poet. 
 
 In the fame rank, and, perhaps, -of- not fo great merit, is 
 the cold painter of portraits ; but his corredt and juft imita- 
 tion of his objedt has its merit. Even the painter of Bill life, 
 whofe higheft ambition is to give a minute reprefentation of 
 every part of thofe low objedts, which he fets before him, 
 deferves praife in proportion to his attainment; becaufe no 
 part of this excellent Art, fo much the ornament of polilhed 
 life, is deftitute of value and ufe. Thefe, however, are by 
 no means the views to which the mind of the {indent ought 
 to be primarily diredled. By aiming at better things, if 
 from particular inclination, or from the tafte of the time 
 and place he lives in, or from neceftity, or from failure in 
 the higheft attempts, he is obliged to defcend lower ; he 
 will bring into the lower fphere of art, a grandeur of com- 
 pofttion and charadter, that will raife and enoble his works 
 far above their natural rank. 
 
 A man 
 
( T 9 ) 
 
 A man is not weak, though he may not be able to weild 
 the club of Hercules ; nor does a man always pradtife that 
 which he efleems the bell: ; but does that which he can bell 
 do. In moderate attempts, there are many walks open to 
 the artifL But as the idea of beauty is of neceffity but one, 
 fo there can be but one great mode of painting ; the lead- 
 ing principle of which I have endeavoured to explain. 
 
 I fhould be forry, if what is here recommended, fhould 
 be at all underflood to countenance a carelefs or indetermined 
 manner of painting ; for though the painter is to overlook the 
 accidental difcriminations of nature, he is to pronounce 
 dillindlly, and with precifion, the general forms of things. 
 A firm and determined outline is one of the charadteriflics 
 of the great flyle in painting; and let me add that he who 
 pofiefies the knowledge of the exact form, that -every part 
 of nature ought to have, will be fond of exprefling that 
 ^knowledge with corredlnefs and precifion in all his works. 
 
 To conclude; I have endeavoured to reduce the idea of 
 beauty to general principles. And I had the pleafure to ob- 
 serve that the profeffor of painting proceeded in the fame 
 method, when he fhewed you that the artifice of contrail 
 
 was 
 
( 20 ) 
 
 was founded but on one principle. And I am convinced 
 that this is the only means of advancing fcience, of clearing 
 the mind from a confufed heap of contradictory obfervations, 
 that do but perplex and puzzle the ftudent, when he com- 
 pares them, or mifguide him if he gives himfelf up to their 
 authority ; but bringing them under one general head, can- 
 alone give reft and fatisfaelion to an inquifitive mind*. 
 
 FINIS* 
 
 i 
 
 7 
 
n -g 
 
 52j(o 
 
 NEGEWCENre# 
 
 LfBRflRy