THB PREFACE OF MONSIEUR DE PILES, THE FRENCH TRANSLATOR. 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 it is 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 paint ing. It is 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 prosperity; 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 that have appeared before it, in this kind; you need only 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 it is a work of general profit: to the lovers of painting, for their instruction how to judge knowingly, from the reason of the thing; 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. It is to be used like spirits, and precious liquors : the less you drink of it at a time, it is 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 of on the side of the translation, from five to five verses, 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, t. You will find, in the latter pages of this book the judgment 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 Monsieur du Fresnoy, who was generally reputed to have a thorough knowledge of it. Our acquaintance at length proceeded to that degree of intimacy, that he intrusted me with his poem, which he believed me capable both of understanding and translating, and accordingly desired me to undertake it. The truth is, 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 are 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 vin dication 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 judgment 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 disap. proved 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 confined them also to the narrowest compass I was able, that I might not tire 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. 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 judgment they make, it may be purely their own, whether it be in my favour, or in my condemnation. I 10. ARTE GRAPHICA. LIBER. UT pictura poesis erit; similisque po esi Sit pictura; refert par æmula quæ que sororem, Alternantque vices et nomina; muta poesis Dicitur hæc, pictura loquens solet illa vocari. Quod fuit auditu gratum cecinere Quod pulchrum aspectu pictores pin- Non eadem pictorum operam studi umque merentur : Ambæ quippe sacros ad religionis honores Sydereos superant ignes, aulamque tonantis Ingress divům aspectu, alloquioque fruuntur ; Oraque magna deûm, et dicta obser vata reportant, Cœlestemque suorum operum mortal ibus ignem. Inde per hunc orbem studiis coeuntibus errant, 5. Carpentes quæ digna sui, revolutaque lustrant Tempora, quærendis consortibus argumentis. Denique quæcunque in cœlo, ter raque, marique Longius in tempus durare, ut pulchra, merentur, Nobilitate sun, claroque insignia casu, 20. Dives et ampla manet pictores atque poetas Materies; inde alta sonant per sæcula mundo Nomina, magnanimis heroibus inde superstes 25. Gloria, perpetuoque operum miracula restant. ART OF PAINTING.† PAINTING and Poesy are two sisters, which are so like in all things, 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 "those arts, that they might advance the sacred honours of re- 10. ligion," 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 "awful majesty they observe, and whose dictates they communicate 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 "with concurring studies" collect whatsoever they find worthy of them. dive (as I may say) into all past ages; 15. and search the 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 They Tantus inest divis honor artibus atque divine arts have been almost honour potestas. Non mihi Pieridum chorus hic,nec Apollo vocandus, Majus ut eloquium numeris, aut gratia fandi Dogmaticis illustret opus rationibus horrens : ed; and such authority they preserve amongst mankind. It will not here be 25. necessary to implore the succour of Apollo, and the muses, for the grace The passages which you see marked with an asterism, , are more amply ex. plained in the remarks. Primum cem Transeat in genium, gentusque usu Præcipua imprimis artisque potis sima pars est, Pulchrius, idque modum juxta, men- fulness of the discourse, or for the ca- I pretend not in this treatise to tie so beautiful. The principal and most import- Precept 1. ant part of painting, is to find out, and of what 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 taste and manner of the ancients; 40. *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 Illud aput veteres fuit unde notabile ignorant; which has occasioned these 40. Quæ sine barbaries cæca et teme- 15. Negligit, insultans ignotæ audacior Ut curare nequit, quæ non modo no- dictum, Nil pictore malo securius atque poeta. Cognita amas, et amata cupis, sc- vidus urges: omnia casus Nam quamcumque modo servili haud sufficit ipsam words of the ancients: "That no We love what we understand; 45. what is most beautiful, * as being the sovercign judge of his own art; "what is less beautiful, or is faulty, he shall freely correct by the dint of his own genius," and permit no transient beauties to escape his ob servation. In the same manner, that bare of theory and prac practice, destitute of the lights of art, Lice. is always subject to fall into a precipice, like a blind traveller, without being able to produce any thing which 55. 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 slothfully languishes as in a prison; for it was not with his tongue that Apelles performed his noble works. Therefore, fo 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 chief examples of this art; and it is by this means, that the mind and the natural disposition are to be $5. 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 certain limits or bounds, wherein the good and the beautiful consists, and out of which they never can depart. 70. This being premised, the next thing Concern. is to make choice of a subject beau the subject tiful and noble; which being of itse capable of all the charms and graces. that colours, and the elegance of design, can possibly give, shall after wards 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 ingenious; and at the same time proper to instruct, and u enlighten the understanding. |