they were both in a manner extinguished by the irruption of the barbarous nations, and both restored about the times of Leo X., Charles V., and Francis I., 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 it is 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 Epic 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 part 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 plea sure. To imitate nature well in whatsoever subject, is the perfection of both Arts; and that Picture, and that Poem, which comes nearest 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 mislead our judgments, and cause us often to take that for true imitation of nature, which has no resemblance of nature in it. To inform our judgments, 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 inquiry 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 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 the naturalists; it is the particular gift of heaven, say the divines, both christians and heathens. How to improve it, many books can teach us; how to obtain it, none; that nothing can be done without it, all agree: Tu nihil invitâ dices faciesve Minervâ. 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 custom and the times;" and this is exactly the same in Poetry: Homer and Virgil are to be our guides in the Epic; 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 wens, 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, nugæque canora. These are also the lucus et ara Diana, 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 out of season. Where 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 |