higher pleasure arises from several objects combined together in such a manner, that while each of them singly affords the several sources of pleasure already mentioned, they all unite in producing one effect, one particular emotion in the spectator, and an impression much stronger than could have been raised by one object alone.

These seem to be the chief sources of the pleasure we receive from pictures; and, with regard to the true and accurate perceptions of each, let us consider who is most likely to form them, the painter and connoisseur, or the unexperienced spectator.

In viewing imitation, we are more or less pleased according to the degree of exactness with which the object is expressed; and, supposing the object to be a common one, it might be imagined, that every person would be equally a judge of the exactness of the imitation; but, in truth, it is otherwise. Our recollection of an object does not depend upon any secret remembrance of the several parts of which it consists, of the exact position of these, or of the dimensions of the whole. A very inaccurate resemblance serves the purpose of memory, and will often pass with us for a true representation, even of the subjects that we fancy ourselves very well acquainted with.

The self-applause of Zeuxis was not well founded when he valued himself on having painted grapes, that so far deceived the birds as to bring them to peck at his picture. Birds are no judges of an accurate resemblance, when they often mistake a scare-crow for a man. Nor had Parrhasius much reason to boast of his deceiving even Zeuxis, who, viewing it hastily, and from a distance, mistook the picture of a linen cloth for a real one. It always requires study to perceive the exactness of imitation; and most persons may find, by daily experience, that, when they

would examine the accuracy of any representation, they can hardly do it properly, but by bringing together the picture and its archetype, so that they may quickly pass from the one to the other, and thereby compare the form, size, and proportions of all the different parts. Without such study of objects as the painter employs to imitate them, or the connoisseur employs in comparing them with their imitations, there is no person can be a judge of the exactness of the representation. The painters, therefore, or the connoisseurs, are the persons who will best perceive the truth of imitation, and best judge of its merit. It is true, some persons may be acquainted with certain objects, even better than the painters themselves, as the shoemaker was with the shoe in the picture of Apelles; but most persons, like the same shoemaker, are unfit to extend their judgment beyond their last; and must, in other parts, yield to the more general knowledge of the painter.

As we are, in the first place, pleased with viewing imitation; so we are, in the second place, with considering the art by which the imitation is performed. The pleasure we derive from this, is in proportion to the difficulty we apprehend in the execution, and the degree of genius necessary to the performance of it. But this difficulty, and the degree of genius exerted in surmounting it, can only be well known to the persons exercised in the practice of the art.

When a person has acquired an exact idea of an object, there is still a great difficulty in expressing that correctly upon his canvas. With regard to objects of a steady figure, they may perhaps be imitated by an ordinary artist; but transient objects, of a momentary appearance, require still a nicer hand. To catch the more delicate expressions of the human soul, requires an art of which few are possessed, and none can sufficiently admire, but

those who have themselves attempted it. These are the difficulties of painting, in forming even a correct outline; and the painter has yet more to struggle with. To represent a solid upon a plain surface, by the position and size of the several parts; to be exact in perspective; by these, and by the distribution of light, and shade, to make every figure stand out from the canvas; and lastly, by natural and glowing colours to animate and give life to the whole these are parts of the painter's art, from which chiefly the pleasure of the spectator, arising from his consciousnes of the imitation, is derived, but, at the same time, such as the uninformed spectator has but an imperfect notion of, and, therefore, must feel an inferior degree of pleasure in contem plating.

The next source of the pleasures derived from painting, above taken notice of, is that arising from the beauty, the grace, the elegance of the objects imitated. When a painter is happy enough to make such a choice, he does it by a constitutional taste that may be common to all. Raphael could not learn it from his master Pietro Perugino; Rubens, though conversant with the best models of antiquity, could never acquire it. In judging, therefore, of this part of painting, the artist has scarcely any advantage above the common spectator. But it is to be observed, that a person of the finest natural taste cannot become suddenly an elegans formarum spectator, an expression which it is scarce possible to translate. It is only by comparison that we arrive at the knowledge of what is most perfect in its kind. The Madonas of Carlo Maratt appear exquisitely beautiful; and it is only when we see those of Raphael that we discern their imperfections. A person may even be sensible of the imperfections of forms; but, at the same time, may find it impossible to conceive, with

precision, an idea of the most perfect. Thus Ra phael could not form an idea of the Divine Majesty, till he saw it so forcibly expressed in the paintings of Michael Angelo. As our judgment, therefore, of beauty, grace, and elegance, though founded in perception, becomes accurate only by comparison and experience, so the painter, exercised in the contemplation of forms, is likely to be a better judge of beauty than any person less experienced.

The last and most considerable pleasure received from painting, is that arising from composition. This is properly distinguished into two kinds, the picturesque and the poetical. To the first belongs the distribution of the several figures, so that they may all be united and conspire in one single effect; while each is so placed, as to present itself in proportion to its importance in the action represented. To this also belongs the diversifying and contrasting the attitudes of different figures, as well as the several members of each. Above all, the picturesque composition has belonging to it the distribution of light and shade, while every single figure has its proper share of each. One mass of light, and its propor tionable shade, should unite the whole piece, and make every part of it conspire in one single effect. To this also belongs the harmony, as well as the contrast, of colours. Now, in all this ordonnance picturesque, there appears an exquisite art only to be acquired by custom and habit; and of the merit of the execution no person can be a judge but one who has been in some measure in the practice of it. It is enough to say, that hardly any body will doubt, that Paulo Veronese was a better judge of the disposition of figures than Michael Angelo; and that Caravaggio was a better judge of the distribution of light and shade than Raphael: so, in some measure, every painter, in proportion to his knowledge, must be a

better judge of the merit of picturesque composition, than any person who judges from the effects only. With regard to poetical composition, it comprehends the choice of the action to be represented, and of the point of time at which the persons are to be introduced, the invention of circumstances to be employed, the expression to be given to every actor; and, lastly, the observance of the costume, that is, giving to each person an air suitable to his rank, representing the complexion and features that express his temperament, his age, and the climate of his country, and dressing him in the habit of the time, in which he lived, and of the nation to which he belonged.

From this enumeration of the several considerations that employ the history-painter, it will immediately appear, why this department of painting is called poetical composition; for here, in truth, it is the imagination of a poet that employs the hand of a painter. This imagination is nowise necessarily connected with the imitative hand. Lucas of Leyden painted more correctly, that is, imitated more exactly, than Salvator Rosa; but the former did not choose subjects of so much grace and dignity, nor composed with so much force and spirit, because he was not a poet like the latter. Salvator Rosa has given us elegant verses full of picturesque description; and, in every one of his pictures, he strikes us by those circumstances which his poetical imagination had suggested. Now it is plain, that a poetical imagination must be derived from nature, and can arise neither from the practice of painting, nor even from the study of pictures. The painter, therefore, and even the connoisseur, in judging of the merit of poetical composition, can have little advantage above other spectators; but even here it must be allowed, that if the painter has an equal degree of taste, he