A
TREATISE
ON
PAINTING,

BY

LEONARDO DA VINCI.

Printed by S. Gosnell,
Little Queen Street, Holborn, London.

A

TREATISE

ON

PAINTING,

BY

LEONARDO DA VINCI.

ARISTOT. ETHIC. LIB. 6.

London:

PRINTED FOR J. TAYLOR,

AT THE ARCHITECTURAL LIBRARY, HIGH HOLBORN.

M.DCCC.II.

The Number at the End of each Title refers to the corresponding Chapter in the original Edition in Italian.

The excellence of the following Treatise is so well known to all in any tolerable degree conversant with the Art of Painting, that it would be almost superfluous to say any thing respecting it, were it not that it here appears under the form of a new translation, of which some account may be expected.

Of the original Work, which is in reality a selection from the voluminous manuscript collections of the Author, both in folio and quarto, of all such passages as related to Painting, no [Pg vi] edition appeared in print till 1651, though its Author died so long before as the year 1519; and it is owing to the circumstance of a manuscript copy of these extracts in the original Italian, having fallen into the hands of Raphael du Fresne; that in the former of these years it was published at Paris in a thin folio volume in that language, accompanied with a set of cuts from the drawings of Nicolo Poussin, and Alberti; the former having designed the human figures, the latter the geometrical and other representations. This precaution was probably necessary, the sketches in the Author’s own collections being so very slight as not to be fit for publication without further assistance. Poussin’s drawings were mere outlines, and the shadows and back-grounds behind the figures were added by Errard, after the drawings had been made, and, as Poussin himself says, without his knowledge.

In the same year, and size, and printed at the same place, a translation of the original work into French was given to the world by Monsieur de Chambray (well known, under [Pg vii] his family name of Freart, as the author of an excellent Parallel of ancient and modern Architecture, in French, which Mr. Evelyn translated into English). The style of this translation by Mons. de Chambray, being thought, some years after, too antiquated, some one was employed to revise and modernise it; and in 1716 a new edition of it, thus polished, came out, of which it may be truly said, as is in general the case on such occasions, that whatever the supposed advantage obtained in purity and refinement of language might be, it was more than counterbalanced by the want of the more valuable qualities of accuracy, and fidelity to the original, from which, by these variations, it became further removed.

The first translation of this Treatise into English, appeared in the year 1721. It does not declare by whom it was made; but though it professes to have been done from the original Italian, it is evident, upon a comparison, that more use was made of the revised edition of the French translation. Indifferent, however, [Pg viii] as it is, it had become so scarce, and risen to a price so extravagant, that, to supply the demand, it was found necessary, in the year 1796, to reprint it as it stood, with all its errors on its head, no opportunity then offering of procuring a fresh translation.

This last impression, however, being now also disposed of, and a new one again called for, the present Translator was induced to step forward, and undertake the office of fresh translating it, on finding, by comparing the former versions both in French and English with the original, many passages which he thought might at once be more concisely and more faithfully rendered. His object, therefore, has been to attain these ends, and as rules and precepts like the present allow but little room for the decorations of style, he has been more solicitous for fidelity, perspicuity, and precision, than for smooth sentences, and well-turned periods.

Nor was this the only advantage which it was found the present opportunity would afford; for the original work consisting in fact of a[Pg ix] number of entries made at different times, without any regard to their subjects, or attention to method, might rather in that state be considered as a chaos of intelligence, than a well-digested treatise. It has now, therefore, for the first time, been attempted to place each chapter under the proper head or branch of the art to which it belongs; and by so doing, to bring together those which (though related and nearly connected in substance) stood, according to the original arrangement, at such a distance from each other as to make it troublesome to find them even by the assistance of an index; and difficult, when found, to compare them together.

The consequence of this plan, it must be confessed, has been, that in a few instances the same precept has been found in substance repeated; but this is so far from being an objection, that it evidently proves the precepts were not the hasty opinions of the moment, but settled and fixed principles in the mind of the Author, and that he was consistent in the expression of his sentiments. [Pg x] But if this mode of arrangement has in the present case disclosed what might have escaped observation, it has also been productive of more material advantages; for, besides facilitating the finding of any particular passage (an object in itself of no small importance), it clearly shews the work to be a much more complete system than those best acquainted with it, had before any idea of, and that many of the references in it apparently to other writings of the same Author, relate in fact only to the present, the chapters referred to having been found in it. These are now pointed out in the notes, and where any obscurity has occurred in the text, the reader will find some assistance at least attempted by the insertion of a note to solve the difficulty.

No pains or expense have been spared in preparing the present work for the press. The cuts have been re-engraven with more attention to correctness in the drawing, than those which accompanied the two editions of the former English translation possessed (even though they had been fresh engraven for the impression of [Pg xi] 1796); and the diagrams are now inserted in their proper places in the text, instead of being, as before, collected all together in two plates at the end. Besides this, a new Life of the Author has been also added by a Friend of the Translator, the materials for which have been furnished, not from vague reports, or uncertain conjectures, but from memoranda of the Author himself, not before used.

Fortunately for this undertaking, the manuscript collections of Leonardo da Vinci, which have lately passed from Italy into France, have, since their removal thither, been carefully inspected, and an abstract of their contents published in a quarto pamphlet, printed at Paris in 1797, and intitled, “Essai sur les Ouvrages physico-mathematiques de Leonard de Vinci;” by J. B. Venturi, Professor of Natural Philosophy at Modena; a Member of the Institute of Bologna, &c. From this pamphlet a great deal of original intelligence respecting the Author has been obtained, which, derived as it is from his own information, could not possibly be founded on better evidence.

[Pg xii]

To this Life we shall refer the reader for a further account of the origin and history of the present Treatise, conceiving we have already effected our purpose, by here giving him a sufficient idea of what he is to expect from the ensuing pages.

Leonardo da Vinci, the Author of the following Treatise, was the natural son of Pietro da Vinci, a notary of Vinci, in Tuscany[i1], a village situated in the valley of Arno, a little below Florence, and was born in the year 1452[i2].

Having discovered, when a child, a strong inclination and talent for painting, of which he had given proofs by several little drawings and sketches; his father one day accidentally took up some of them, and was induced to shew them to his friend Andrea Verocchio, a painter of some reputation in Florence, who was also a [Pg xiv] chaser, an architect, a sculptor, and goldsmith, for his advice, as to the propriety of bringing up his son to the profession of painting, and the probability of his becoming eminent in the art. The answer of Verocchio was such as to confirm him in that resolution; and Leonardo, to fit him for that purpose, was accordingly placed under the tuition of Verocchio[i3].

As Verocchio combined in himself a perfect knowledge of the arts of chasing and sculpture, and was a deep proficient in architecture, Leonardo had in this situation the means and opportunity of acquiring a variety of information, which though perhaps not immediately connected with the art to which his principal attention was to be directed, might, with the assistance of such a mind as Leonardo’s, be rendered subsidiary to his grand object, tend to promote his knowledge of the theory, and facilitate his practice of the profession for which he was intended. Accordingly we find that he had the good sense to avail himself of these advantages, and that under Verocchio he made great progress, and attracted his master’s friendship and confidence, by the talents he discovered, the sweetness of his manners, and the vivacity of his[Pg xv] disposition[i4]. Of his proficiency in painting, the following instance is recorded; and the skill he afterwards manifested in other branches of science, on various occasions, evidently demonstrated how solicitous he had been for knowledge of all kinds, and how careful in his youth to lay a good foundation. Verocchio had undertaken for the religious of Vallombrosa, without Florence, a picture of our Saviour’s Baptism by St. John, and consigned to Leonardo the office of putting in from the original drawing, the figure of an angel holding up the drapery; but, unfortunately for Verocchio, Leonardo succeeded so well, that, despairing of ever equalling the work of his scholar, Verocchio in disgust abandoned his pencil for ever, confining himself in future solely to the practice of sculpture[i5].

On this success Leonardo became sensible that he no longer stood in need of an instructor; and therefore quitting Verocchio, he now began to work and study for himself. Many of his performances of this period are still, or were lately to be seen at Florence; and besides these, the following have been also mentioned: A cartoon of Adam and Eve in the Garden, which he[Pg xvi] did for the King of Portugal[i6]. This is highly commended for the exquisite gracefulness of the two principal figures, the beauty of the landscape, and the incredible exactitude of the shrubs and fruit. At the instance of his father, he made a painting for one of his old neighbours at Vinci[i7]; it consisted wholly of such animals as have naturally an hatred to each other, joined artfully together in a variety of attitudes. Some authors have said that this painting was a shield[i8], and have related the following particulars respecting it.

One of Pietro’s neighbours meeting him one day at Florence, told him he had been making a shield, and would be glad of his assistance to get it painted; Pietro undertook this office, and applied to his son to make good the promise. When the shield was brought to Leonardo, he found it so ill made, that he was obliged to get a turner to smooth it; and when that was done, he began to consider with what subject he should paint it. For this purpose he got together, in his apartment, a collection of live animals, such as lizards, crickets, serpents, silk-worms, locusts, bats, and other creatures of that kind, from the multitude of which, variously[Pg xvii] adapted to each other, he formed an horrible and terrific animal, emitting fire and poison from his jaws, flames from his eyes, and smoke from his nostrils; and with so great earnestness did Leonardo apply to this, that though in his apartment the stench of the animals that from time to time died there, was so strong as to be scarcely tolerable, he, through his love to the art, entirely disregarded it. The work being finished, Leonardo told his father he might now see it; and the father one morning coming to his apartment for that purpose, Leonardo, before he admitted him, placed the shield so as to receive from the window its full and proper light, and then opened the door. Not knowing what he was to expect, and little imagining that what he saw was not the creatures themselves, but a mere painted representation of them, the father, on entering and beholding the shield, was at first staggered and shocked; which the son perceiving, told him he might now send the shield to his friend, as, from the effect which the sight of it had then produced, he found he had attained the object at which he aimed. Pietro, however, had too much sagacity not to see that this was by much too great a curiosity for a mere countryman, who would never be sensible of its value; he therefore privately bought for his friend an ordinary [Pg xviii] shield, rudely painted with the device of an heart with an arrow through it, and sold this for an hundred ducats to some merchants at Florence, by whom it was again sold for three hundred to the Duke of Milan[i9].

He afterwards painted a picture of the Virgin Mary, and by her side a vessel of water, in which were flowers: in this he so contrived it, as that the light reflected from the flowers threw a pale redness on the water. This picture was at one time in the possession of Pope Clement the Seventh[i10].

For his friend Antonio Segni he also made a design, representing Neptune in his car, drawn by sea-horses, and attended by tritons and sea-gods; the heavens overspread with clouds, which were driven in all directions by the violence of the winds; the waves appeared to be rolling, and the whole ocean seemed in an uproar[i11]. This drawing was afterwards given by Fabio the son of Antonio Segni, to Giovanni Gaddi, a great collector of drawings, with this epigram:

[Pg xix]

In English thus:

To these must be added the following: A painting representing two horsemen engaged in fight, and struggling to tear a flag from each other: rage and fury are in this admirably expressed in the countenances of the two combatants; their air appears wild, and the drapery is thrown into an unusual though agreeable disorder. A Medusa’s head, and a picture of the Adoration of the Magi[i14]. In this last there are some fine heads, but both this and the Medusa’s head are said by Du Fresne to have been evidently unfinished.

The mind of Leonardo was however too active and capacious to be contented solely with the practical part of his art; nor could it submit to receive as principles, conclusions, though confirmed by experience, without first tracing them to their source, and investigating their causes, and the several circumstances on which they depended. [Pg xx] For this purpose he determined to engage in a deep examination into the theory of his art; and the better to effect his intention, he resolved to call in to his aid the assistance of all such other branches of science as could in any degree promote this grand object.

Vasari has related[i15], that at a very early age he had, in the short time of a few months only that he applied to it, obtained a deep knowledge of arithmetic; and says, that in literature in general, he would have made great attainments, if he had not been too versatile to apply long to one subject. In music, he adds, he had made some progress; that he then determined to learn to play on the lyre; and that having an uncommonly fine voice, and an extraordinary promptitude of thought and expression, he became a celebrated improvisatore: but that his attention to these did not induce him to neglect painting and modelling in which last art he was so great a proficient, that in his youth he modelled in clay some heads of women laughing, and also some boys’ heads, which appeared to have come from the hand of a master. In architecture, he made many plans and designs for buildings, and, while he was yet young, proposed conveying [Pg xxi] the river Arno into the canal at Pisa[i16]. Of his skill in poetry the reader may judge from the following sonnet preserved by Lomazzo[i17], the only one now existing of his composition; and for the translation with which it is accompanied we are indebted to a lady.

[Pg xxii]

The course of study which Leonardo had thus undertaken, would, in its most limited extent by any one who should attempt it at this time, be found perhaps almost more than could be successfully accomplished; but yet his curiosity and unbounded thirst for information, induced him rather to enlarge than contract his plan. Accordingly we find, that to the study of geometry, sculpture, anatomy, he added those of[Pg xxiii] architecture, mechanics, optics, hydrostatics, astronomy, and Nature in general, in all her operations[i18]; and the result of his observations and experiments, which were intended not only for present use, but as the basis and foundation of future discoveries, he determined, as he proceeded, to commit to writing. At what time he began these his collections, of which we shall have occasion to speak more particularly hereafter, is no where mentioned; but it is with certainty known, that by the month of April 1490, he had already completely filled two folio volumes[i19].

Notwithstanding Leonardo’s propensity and application to study, he was not inattentive to the graces of external accomplishments; he was very skilful in the management of an horse, rode gracefully, and when he afterwards arrived to a state of affluence, took particular pleasure in appearing in public well mounted and handsomely accoutred. He possessed great dexterity in the use of arms: for mien and grace he might contend with any gentleman of his time: his person was remarkably handsome, his behaviour so perfectly polite, and his conversation so charming, that his company was coveted by[Pg xxiv] all who knew him; but the avocations to which this last circumstance subjected him, are one reason why so many of his works remain unfinished [i20].

With such advantages of mind and body as these, it was no wonder that his reputation should spread itself, as we find it soon did, over all Italy. The painting of the shield before mentioned, had already, as has been noticed, come into the possession of the Duke of Milan; and the subsequent accounts which he had from time to time heard of Leonardo’s abilities and talents, induced Lodovic Sforza, surnamed the Moor, then Duke of Milan, about, or a little before the year 1489[i21], to invite him to his court, and to settle on him a pension of five hundred crowns, a considerable sum at that time [i22].

Various are the reasons assigned for this invitation: Vasari[i23] attributes it to his skill in music, a science of which the Duke is said to have been fond; others have ascribed it to a design which the Duke entertained of erecting a brazen statue to the memory of his father [i24]; but others conceive [Pg xxv] it originated from the circumstance, that the Duke had not long before established at Milan an academy for the study of painting, sculpture, and architecture, and was desirous that Leonardo should take the conduct and direction of it[i25]. The second was, however, we find, the true motive; and we are further informed, that the invitation was accepted by Leonardo, that he went to Milan, and was already there in 1489 [i26].

Among the collections of Leonardo still existing in manuscript, is a copy of a memorial presented by him to the Duke about 1490, of which Venturi has given an abridgment [i27]. In it he offers to make for the Duke military bridges, which should be at the same time light and very solid, and to teach him the method of placing and defending them with security. When the object is to take any place, he can, he says, empty the ditch of its water; he knows, he adds, the art of constructing a subterraneous gallery under the ditches themselves, and of carrying it to the very spot that shall be wanted. If the fort is not built on a rock, he undertakes[Pg xxvi] to throw it down, and mentions that he has new contrivances for bombarding machines, ordnance, and mortars, some adapted to throw hail shot, fire, and smoke, among the enemy; and for all other machines proper for a siege, and for war, either by sea or land, according to circumstances. In peace also, he says he can be useful in what concerns the erection of buildings, conducting of water-courses, sculpture in bronze or marble, and painting; and remarks, that at the same time that he may be pursuing any of the above objects, the equestrian statue to the memory of the Duke’s father, and his illustrious family, may still be going on. If any one doubts the possibility of what he proposes, he offers to prove it by experiment, and ocular demonstration.

From this memorial it seems clear, that the casting of the bronze statue was his principal object; painting is only mentioned incidentally, and no notice is taken of the direction or management of the academy for painting, sculpture, and architecture; it is probable, therefore, that at this time there was no such intention, though it is certainly true, that he was afterwards placed at the head of it, and that he banished from it the barbarous style of architecture which till then had prevailed in it, and introduced[Pg xxvii] in its stead a more pure and classical taste. Whatever was the fact with respect to the academy, it is however well known that the statue was cast in bronze, finished, and put up at Milan, but afterwards demolished by the French when they took possession of that place [i28] after the defeat of Lodovic Sforza.

Some time after Leonardo’s arrival at Milan, a design had been entertained of cutting a canal from Martesana to Milan, for the purpose of opening a communication by water between these two places, and, as it is said, of supplying the last with water. It had been first thought of so early as 1457 [i29]; but from the difficulties to be expected in its execution, it seems to have been laid aside, or at least to have proceeded slowly, till Leonardo’s arrival. His offers of service as engineer in the above memorial, probably induced Lodovic Sforza, the then Duke, to resume the intention with vigour, and accordingly we find the plan was determined on, and the execution of it intrusted to Leonardo. The object was noble, but the difficulties to be encountered were sufficient to have discouraged any mind but Leonardo’s; for the distance was no less than two hundred miles; and before it could be completed,[Pg xxviii] hills were to be levelled, and vallies filled up, to render them navigable with security [i30].

In order to enable him to surmount the obstacles with which he foresaw he should have to contend, he retired to the house of his friend Signior Melzi, at Vaverola, not far distant from Milan, and there applied himself sedulously for some years, as it is said, but at intervals only we must suppose, and according as his undertaking proceeded, to the study of philosophy, mathematics, and every branch of science that could at all further his design; still continuing the method he had before adopted, of entering down in writing promiscuously, whatever he wished to implant in his memory: and at this place, in this and his subsequent visits from time to time, he is supposed to have made the greater part of the collections he has left behind him [i31], of the contents of which we shall hereafter speak more at large.

Although engaged in the conduct of so vast an undertaking, and in studies so extensive, the mind of Leonardo does not appear to have been so wholly occupied or absorbed in them as to incapacitate him from attending at the same time to other objects also; and the Duke therefore being[Pg xxix] desirous of ornamenting Milan with some specimens of his skill as a painter, employed him to paint in the refectory of the Dominican convent of Santa Maria delle Gratie, in that city, a picture, the subject of which was to be the Last Supper. Of this picture it is related, that Leonardo was so impressed with the dignity of the subject, and so anxious to answer the high ideas he had formed of it in his own mind, that his progress was very slow, and that he spent much time in meditation and thought, during which the work was apparently at a stand. The Prior of the convent, thinking it therefore neglected, complained to the Duke; but Leonardo assuring the Duke that not less than two hours were every day bestowed on it, he was satisfied. Nevertheless the Prior, after a short time, finding the work very little advanced, once more applied to the Duke, who in some degree of anger, as thinking Leonardo had deceived him, reprimanded him in strong terms for his delay. What Leonardo had scorned to urge to the Prior in his defence, he now thought fit to plead in his excuse to the Duke, to convince him that a painter did not labour solely with his hands, but that his mind might be deeply studying his subject, when his hands were unemployed, and he in appearance perfectly idle. In proof of this, he told the Duke[Pg xxx] that nothing remained to the completion of the picture but the heads of our Saviour and Judas; that as to the former, he had not yet been able to find a fit model to express its divinity, and found his invention inadequate of itself to represent it: that with respect to that of Judas, he had been in vain for two years searching among the most abandoned and profligate of the species for an head which would convey an idea of his character; but that this difficulty was now at length removed, since he had nothing to do but to introduce the head of the Prior, whose ingratitude for the pains he was taking, rendered him a fit archetype of the perfidy and ingratitude he wished to express. Some persons have said [i32], that the head of Judas in the picture was actually copied from that of the Prior; but Mariette denies it, and says this reply was merely intended as a threat[i33].

A difference of opinion has also prevailed concerning the head of our Saviour in this picture; for some have conceived it left intentionally unfinished [i34], while others think there is a [Pg xxxi] gradation of resemblance, which increasing in beauty in St. John and our Saviour, shews in the dignified countenance of the latter a spark of his divine majesty. In the countenance of the Redeemer, say these last, and in that of Judas, is excellently expressed the extreme idea of God made man, and of the most perfidious of mortals. This is also pursued in the characters nearest to each of them [i35].

Little judgment can now be formed of the original beauty of this picture, which has been, and apparently with very good reason, highly commended. Unfortunately, though it is said to have been in oil, the wall on which it was painted not having been properly prepared, the original colours have been so effectually defaced by the damp, as to be no longer visible[i36]; and the fathers, for whose use it was painted, thinking it entirely destroyed, and some years since wishing to heighten and widen a door under it, leading out of their refectory, have given a decided proof of their own want of taste, and how little they were sensible of its value, by permitting the workmen to break through the wall on which it was painted, and, by so doing, entirely to destroy the lower part of[Pg xxxii] the picture[i37]. The injury done by the damp to the colouring has been, it is true, in some measure repaired by Michael Angelo Bellotti, a painter of Milan, who viewing the picture in 1726, made an offer to the Prior and convent to restore, by means of a secret which he possessed, the original colours. His proposition being accepted, and the experiment succeeding beyond their hopes, the convent made him a present of five hundred pounds for his labour, and he in return communicated to them the secret by which it had been effected [i38].

Deprived, as they certainly are by these events, of the means of judging accurately of the merit of the original, it is still some consolation to the lovers of painting, that several copies of it made by Leonardo’s scholars, many of whom were very able artists, and at a time when the picture had not been yet injured, are still in existence. [Pg xxxiii] A list of these copies is given by P. M. Guglielmo della Valle, in his edition of Vasari’s Lives of the Painters, in Italian, vol. v. p. 34, and from him it is here inserted in the note [i39]. Francis the [Pg xxxiv] First was so charmed on viewing the original, that not being able to remove it, he had a copy made, which is now, or was some years since, at St. Germains, and several prints have been published from it; but the best which has yet appeared (and very fine it is) is one not long since engraven by Morghen, at Rome, impressions of which have found their way into this country, and been sold, it is said, for ten or twelve guineas each.

[Pg xxxv]

In the same refectory of the Dominicans at Milan is, or was, also preserved a painting by Leonardo, representing Duke Lodovic, and Beatrix his duchess, on their knees; done no doubt about this time[i40]. And at or near this period, he also painted for the Duke the Nativity, which was formerly, and may perhaps be still, in the Emperor of Germany’s collection[i41].

As Leonardo’s principal aim, whenever he was left at liberty to pursue the bent of his own inclination, seems to have been progressive improvement in the art of painting, he appears to have sedulously embraced all opportunities of increasing his information; and wisely perceiving, that without a thorough acquaintance with anatomy, a painter could effect but little, he was particularly desirous of extending his knowledge in that branch. For that purpose he had frequent conferences on the subject with Marc Antonio della Torre, professor of anatomy at Pavia[i42], and not only was present at many dissections performed by him, but made abundance of anatomical drawings from Nature, many of which were afterwards collected into a volume by his scholar Francisco Melzi[i43].

[Pg xxxvi]

Such perseverance and assiduity as Leonardo’s, united as they were with such uncommon powers as his, had already formed many artists at that time of distinguished reputation, but who afterwards became still more famous, and might probably have rendered Milan the repository of some of the most valuable specimens of painting, and raised it to a rank little, if at all, inferior to that which Florence has since held with the admirers of the polite arts, had it not happened that by the disastrous termination of a contest between the Duke of Milan and the French, all hopes of further improvement were entirely cut off; and Milan, at one blow, lost all the advantages of which it was even then in possession. For about this time the troubles in Italy began to break in on Leonardo’s quiet, and he found his patron, the Duke, engaged in a war with the French for the possession of his dukedom; which not only endangered the academy, but ultimately deprived him both of his dominions and his liberty; as the Duke was, in 1500, completely defeated, taken prisoner, and carried into France, where, in 1510, he died a prisoner in the castle of Loches[i44].

[Pg xxxvii]

By this event of the Duke’s defeat, and the consequent ruin of the Sforza family, all further progress in the canal of Martesana, of which much still remained to be done[i45], was put a stop to; the academy of architecture and painting was entirely broken up; the professors were turned adrift, and the arts banished from Milan, which at one time had promised to have been their refuge and principal feat[i46]. Italy in general was, it is true, a gainer by the dispersion of so many able and deeply instructed artists as issued from this school, though Milan suffered; for nothing could so much tend to the dissemination of knowledge as the mixing such men among others who needed that information in which these excelled. Among the number thus separated from each other, we find painters, carvers, architects, founders, and engravers in crystal and precious stones, and the names of the following have been given, as the principal: Cesare da Sesto, Andrea Salaino, Gio. Antonio Boltraffio, Bernardino Lovino, Bartolommeo della Porta, Lorenzo Lotto[i47]. To these has been added Gio. Paolo Lomazzo; but Della Valle, in a note in his edition of Vasari, vol. v. p. [Pg xxxviii] 34, says this last was a disciple of Gio. Battista della Cerva, and not of Leonardo. Du Fresne mentions besides the above, Francis Melzi, Mark Uggioni Gobbo, an extraordinary painter and carver; Annibal Fontana, a worker in marble and precious stones; and Bernazzano, an excellent painter of landscapes; but omits Della Porta, and Lorenzo Lotto.

In 1499, the year before Duke Lodovic’s defeat, Leonardo being at Milan, was employed by the principal inhabitants to contrive an automaton for the entertainment of Lewis XII. King of France, who was expected shortly to make a public entry into that city. This Leonardo did, and it consisted of a machine representing a lion, whose inside was so well constructed of clockwork, that it marched out to meet the King, made a stand when it came before him, reared up on its hinder legs, and opening its breast, presented an escutcheon with fleurs de lis quartered on it [i48]. Lomazzo has said that this machine was made for the entry of Francis the First; but he is mistaken, that prince having never been at Milan till the year 1515 [i49], at which time Leonardo was at Rome.

Compelled by the disorders of Lombardy, the [Pg xxxix] misfortunes of his patron, and the ruin of the Sforza family, to quit Milan, Leonardo betook himself to Florence, and his inducements to this resolution seem to have been the residence there of the Medici family, the great patrons of arts, and the good taste of its principal inhabitants[i50], rather than its vicinity to the place of his birth; for which, under the circumstances that attended that event, it is not probable he could entertain much, if any predilection. The first work which he here undertook was a design for an altar-piece for the chapel of the college of the Annunciati. Its subject was, our Saviour, with his mother, St. Ann, and St. John; but though this drawing is said to have rendered Leonardo very popular among his countrymen, to so great a degree, that numbers of people went to see it, it does not appear that any picture was painted from it, nor that the undertaking ever proceeded farther than a sketch of a design, or rather, perhaps, a finished drawing. When Leonardo some years afterwards went into France[i51], Francis the First was desirous of having a picture from this drawing, and at his desire he then put it into colours; but whether even this last was a regular picture, or, which is more proba[Pg xl]ble, only a coloured drawing, we are not informed.

The picture, however, on which he bestowed the most time and labour, and which therefore seems intended by him as the completest specimen of his skill, at least in the branch of portrait-painting, was that which he did of Mona Lisa, better known by the appellation of la Gioconda, a Florentine lady, the wife of Francisco del Giocondo. It was painted for her husband, afterwards purchased by Francis the First, and was till lately to be seen in the King of France’s cabinet. Leonardo bestowed four entire years upon it, and after all is said to have left it unfinished[i52].

This has been so repeatedly said of the works of this painter, that we are here induced to inquire into the evidence of the fact. An artist who feels by experience, as every one must, how far short of the ideas of perfection he has formed in his own mind, his best performances always fall, will naturally be led to consider these as but very faint expressions of his own conceptions. Leonardo’s disposition to think nothing effected while any thing remained to be done, and a mind like his, continually suggesting successive [Pg xli] improvements, might therefore, and most probably did produce in him an opinion that his own most laboured pieces were far from being finished to that extent of beauty which he wished to give them; and these sentiments of them he might in all likelihood be frequently heard to declare. Comparing his productions, however, with those of other masters, they will be found, notwithstanding this assertion to the contrary, as eminent in this particular also, as for the more valuable qualities of composition, drawing, character, expression, and colouring.

About the same time with this of la Gioconda, he painted the portraits of a nobleman of Mantua, and of la Ginevra, a daughter of Americus Benci[i53], much celebrated for her beauty; and is said to have finished a picture of Flora some years since remaining at Paris[i54]; but this last Mariette discovered to be the work of Melzio, from the circumstance of finding, on a close inspection, the name of this last master written on it[i55].

In the year 1503, he was elected by the Florentines to paint their council-chamber. The subject he chose for this, was the battle against Attila [i56]; and he had already made some progress [Pg xlii] in his work, when, to his great mortification, he found his colours peel from the wall[i57].

With Leonardo was joined in this undertaking, Michael Angelo, who painted another side of the room, and who, then a young man of not more than twenty-nine, had risen to such reputation, as not to fear a competition with Leonardo, a man of near sixty[i58]. The productions of two such able masters placed in the same room, begun at the same time, and proceeding gradually step by step together, afforded, no doubt, occasion and opportunity to the admirers and critics in painting to compare and contrast with each other their respective excellencies and defects. Had these persons contented themselves simply with comparing and appreciating the merits of these masters according to justice and truth, it might perhaps have been advantageous to both, as directing their attention to the correction of errors; but as each artist had his admirers, each had also his enemies; the partisans of the one thinking they did not sufficiently value the merit of their favourite if they allowed any to his antagonist, or did not, on the contrary, endeavour to crush by detraction the too formidable reputation of his adversary. From this conduct was produced [Pg xliii] what might easily have been foreseen; they first became jealous rivals, and at length open and inveterate enemies [i59].

Leonardo’s reputation, which had been for many years gradually increasing, was now so firmly established, that he appears to have been looked up to as being, what he really was, the reviver and restorer of the art of painting; and to such an height had the curiosity to view his works been excited, that Raphael, who was at that time young, and studying, thought it worth his while to make a journey to Florence in the month of October 1504 [i60], on purpose to see them. Nor was his labour lost, or his time thrown away in so doing; for on first seeing the works of Leonardo’s pencil, he was induced to abandon the dry and hard manner of his master Perugino’s colouring, and to adopt in its stead the style of Leonardo [i61], to which circumstance is owing no small portion of that esteem in the art, to which Raphael afterwards very justly arrived.

His father having died in 1504 [i62], he in consequence of that event became engaged with his half-brothers, the legitimate sons of Pietro da Vinci, in a law-suit for the recovery of a share of his father’s property, which in a letter from[Pg xliv] Florence to the Governor of Milan, the date of which does not appear, he speaks of having almost brought to a conclusion [i63]. At Florence he continued from 1503 to 1507 [i64], and in the course of that time painted, among other pictures of less note, a Virgin and Child, once in the hands of the Botti family; and a Baptist’s head, formerly in those of Camillo Albizzi[i65]; but in 1508, and the succeeding year, he was at Milan, where he received a pension which had been granted him by Lewis XII. [i66]; and in the month of September 1513, he, in company with his scholar Francesco Melzi, quitted Milan[i67], and set out for Rome (which till that time he had never visited), encouraged perhaps to this resolution by the circumstance that his friend Cardinal John de Medicis, who was afterwards known by the assumed name of Leo X. had a few months before been advanced to the papacy[i68]. His known partiality to the arts, and the friendship which had subsisted between him and Leonardo, held out to the latter a well-founded expectation of employment for his pencil at Rome, and we find in this expectation he was not deceived; as, soon after his arrival, the Pope actually signified his intention of setting him to [Pg xlv] work. Upon this Leonardo began distilling oils for his colours, and preparing varnishes, which the Pope hearing, said pertly and ignorantly enough, that he could expect nothing from a man who thought of finishing his works before he had begun them [i69]. Had the Pope known, as he seems not to have done, that oil was the vehicle in which the colours were to have been worked, or been witness either to the almost annihilation of the colours in Leonardo’s famous picture of the Last Supper, owing to the damp of the wall, or to the peeling of the colours from the wall in the council-chamber at Florence, he probably would have spared this ill-natured reflection. If it applied at all, it could only be to a very small part of the pursuit in which Leonardo was occupied, namely, preparing varnish; and if age were necessary to give the varnish strength, or it were the better for keeping, the answer was in an equal degree both silly and impertinent; and it is no wonder it should disgust such a mind as Leonardo’s, or produce, as we find it did, such a breach between the Pope and him, that the intended pictures, whatever they might have been, were never begun.

[Pg xlvi]

Disgusted with his treatment at Rome, where the former antipathy between him and Michael Angelo was again revived by the partisans of each, he the next year quitted it; and accepting an invitation which had been made him by Francis the First, he proceeded into France[i70]. At the time of this journey he is said to have been seventy years old[i71], which cannot be correct, as he did not live to attain that age in the whole. Probably the singularity of his appearance (for in his latter years he permitted his beard to grow long), together with the effect which his intense application to study had produced in his constitution, might have given rise to an opinion that he was older than he really was; and indeed it seems pretty clear, that when he arrived in France he was nearly worn out in body, if not in mind, by the anxiety and application with which he had pursued his former studies and investigations.

Although the King’s motive to this invitation, which seems to have been a wish to profit by the pencil of Leonardo, was completely disappointed by his ill state of health, which the fatigues of his journey and the change of the climate produced,[Pg xlvii] so that on his arrival in France no hopes could be entertained by the King of enriching his collection with any pictures by Leonardo; yet the French people in general, and the King in particular, are expressly said to have been as favourable to him as those of Rome had been injurious, and he was received by the King in the most affectionate manner. It was however unfortunately too soon evident that these symptoms of decay were only the forerunners of a more fatal distemper under which for several months he languished, but which by degrees was increasing upon him. Of this he was sensible, and therefore in the beginning of the year 1518, he determined to make his will, to which he afterwards added one or more codicils. By these he first describes himself as Leonardo da Vinci, painter to the King, at present residing at the place called Cloux, near Amboise, and then desires to be buried in the church of St. Florentine at Amboise, and that his body should be accompanied from the said place of Cloux to the said church, by the college of the said church, and the chaplains of St. Dennis of Amboise, and the friars minor of the said place; and that before his body is carried to the said church, it should remain three days in the chamber in which he[Pg xlviii] should die, or in some other; he further orders that three great masses and thirty lesser masses of St. Gregory, should be celebrated there, and a like service be performed in the church of St. Dennis, and in that of the said friars minor. He gives and bequeaths to Franco di Melzio, a gentleman of Milan, in return for his services, all and every the books which he the testator has at present, and other instruments and drawings respecting his art: To Baptista de Villanis, his servant, the moiety of the garden which he has without the walls of Milan; and the other moiety of the said garden to Salay his servant. He gives to the said Francesco Meltio the arrears of his pension, and the sum of money owing to him at present, and at the time of his death, by the treasurer M. Johan Sapin; and to the same person all and singular his clothes and vestments. He orders and wills, that the sum of four hundred crowns of the sum which he has in the hands of the chamberlain of Santa Maria Nuova, at Florence, should be given to his brethren residing at Florence, with the profit and emolument thereon. And lastly, he appoints the said Gia. Francesco de Meltio, whole and sole executor[i72].

[Pg xlix]

This Will bears date, and appears to have been executed on the 23d of April 1518. He however survived the making of it more than a year; and on the 23d of April 1519[i73], the day twelvemonth on which it had been originally made, he, though it does not appear for what reason, re-executed it; and the next day added a codicil, by which he gave to his servant, Gio. Battista de Villanis, the right which had been granted him in return for his labours on the canal of Martesana, of exacting a certain portion of all the wood transported on the Ticino[i74].

All this interval of time between the making and re-execution of his will, and indeed the whole period from his arrival in France, he seems to have been struggling under an incurable illness. The King frequently during its continuance honoured him with visits; and it has been said, that in one of these Leonardo exerting himself beyond his strength, to shew his sense of this prince’s condescension, was seized with a fainting fit, and that the King stooping forward to support him, Leonardo expired in his arms, on the 2d of May 1519[i75]. Venturi has taken some pains to disprove this fact, by shewing[i76], [Pg l] that though in the interval between the years 1516 and 1519, the French court passed eleven months at different times at Amboise; yet on the 1st of May 1519, it was certainly not here, but at St. Germains. History, however, when incorrect, is more frequently a mixture of true and false, than a total fabrication of falsehood; and it is therefore not impossible, or improbable, that the King might shew such an act of kindness in some of his visits when he was resident at Amboise, and that Leonardo might recover from that fit, and not die till some time after; at which latter time the Court and the King might be absent at St. Germains. This is surely a more rational supposition than to imagine such a fact could have been invented without any foundation for it whatever.

It is impossible within the limits that can here be allowed, to do any thing like justice to the merits of this extraordinary man: all that can in this place be effected is to give the principal facts respecting him; and this is all, therefore, that has been attempted. A sufficient account, however, at least for the present purpose, it is presumed has been given above of the Author, and the productions of his pencil, and it now remains therefore only to speak of those of his pen.

[Pg li]

With what view the Author engaged in this arduous course of study, how eager he was in the pursuit of knowledge, how anxious to avail himself of the best means of obtaining complete information on every subject to which he applied, and how careful to minute down whatever he procured that could be useful, have been already shewn in the course of the foregoing narrative; but in order to prevent the necessity of interrupting there the succession of events, it has been reserved for this place to describe the contents and extent of his collections, and to give a brief idea of the branches to which they relate.

On inquiry then we learn, that Leonardo’s productions of this kind consist of fourteen manuscript volumes, large and small, now in the library of the National Institute at Paris, whither they have been some few years since removed from the Ambrosian library at Milan; and of one folio volume in manuscript also, in the possession of his Majesty the King of Great Britain. Of those at Paris, J. B. Venturi, Professor of Natural Philosophy at Modena, and of the Institute of Bologna, &c. who was permitted to inspect them, says[i77], that “they contain speculations in those branches of natural philosophy [Pg lii] nearest allied to geometry; that they are first sketches and occasional notes, the Author always intending afterwards to compose from them complete treatises.” He adds further, “that they are written backwards from right to left, in the manner of the oriental writers, probably with intention that the curious should not rob him of his discoveries. The spirit of geometry guided him throughout, whether it were in the art of analysing a subject in the connexion of the discourse, or the care of always generalizing his ideas. As to natural philosophy, he never was satisfied on any proposition if he had not proved it by experiment.” From the extracts given from these manuscripts by Venturi himself, and which he has ranged under the different heads mentioned in the note[i78], the contents of these volumes appear to be extremely miscellaneous; and it is evident, as Venturi has marked by references where each extract is to be found in the original, that[Pg liii] from the great distance at which passages on the same subject are placed from each other, they must have been entered without any regard to method or arrangement of any kind whatever.

The volume in the possession of his Britannic Majesty is described as consisting “of a variety of elegant heads, some of which are drawn with red and black chalks on blue or red paper, others with a metal pencil on a tinted paper; a few of them are washed and heightened with white, and many are on common paper. The subjects of these drawings are miscellaneous, as portraits, caricatures, single figures, tilting, horses, and other animals; botany, optics, perspective, gunnery, hydraulics, mechanics, and a great number of anatomical subjects, which are drawn with a more spirited pen, and illustrated with a variety of manuscript notes. This volume contains what is of more importance, the very characteristic head of Leonardo, as it was sketched by himself, and now engraved by that eminent artist Mr. Bartolozzi[i79].” Specimens from this volume have been published some years since by Mr. Dalton, and more recently and accurately by Mr. Chamberlaine; and though it must be confessed, that the former are extremely ill [Pg liv] drawn, and betray the grossest ignorance of the effect which light and shadow were intended to produce, yet some of the subjects which the volume contains may be ascertained by them; and among them is also a fac simile of a page of the original manuscript, which proves this, like the other volumes, to be in Italian, and written backwards. The latter is a very beautiful work, and is calculated to give an accurate idea of Leonardo’s talents as a draughtsman [i80]. From these two publications it appears, that this volume also is of a very miscellaneous nature, and that it consists of manuscript entries, interspersed with finished drawings of heads and figures, and slight sketches of mechanical engines and anatomical subjects, some of which are intermixed with the writing itself.

It has been already seen, that these volumes were originally given by the will of Leonardo to Francisco Melzi; and their subsequent history we are enabled to state on the authority of John Ambrose Mazenta, through whose hands they passed. Du Fresne, in the life prefixed to the edition which he published in Italian, of Leonardo da Vinci’s Treatise on Painting, has, in a[Pg lv] very loose way, and without citing any authority, given their history; but Venturi has inserted[i81] a translation into French, from the original manuscript memoir of Mazenta; and from him a version of it into English is here given, with the addition of Venturi’s notes, rendered also into English.

“It is near fifty years [i82] since there fell into my hands thirteen volumes of Leonardo da Vinci in folio and quarto, written backwards. Accident brought them to me in the following manner: I was residing at Pisa, for the purpose of studying the law, in the family of Aldus Manutius the younger, a great lover of books. A person named Lelio Gavardi, of Asola, Prevost of S. Zeno, at Pavia, a very near relation of Aldus, came to our house; he had been a teacher of the belles lettres in the family of the Melzi of Milan, called de Vavero, to distinguish them from other families of the same name in that city. He had, at their country house at Vavero, met with several drawings, instruments, and [Pg lvi] books of Leonardo. Francisco Melzi [i83] approached nearer than any one to the manner of De Vinci; he worked little, because he was rich; his pictures are very much finished, they are often confounded with those of his master. At his death he left the works of Leonardo in his house at Vavero, to his sons, who having tastes and pursuits of a different kind, neglected these treasures, and soon dispersed them; Lelio Gavardi possessed himself of as many of them as he pleased; he carried thirteen volumes to Florence, in hopes of receiving for them a good price from the Grand Duke Francis, who was eager after works of this sort; and the rather as Leonardo was in great reputation in his own country. But this prince died [i84] as soon as Gavardi was arrived at Florence. He then went to Pisa, to the house of Manutius. I could not approve his proceeding; it was scandalous. My studies being finished, I had occasion to return to Milan. He gave me the volumes of Vinci, desiring me to return them to the Melzi: I acquitted myself faithfully of my commission; I carried them all back to Horatio, the chief of the family of Melzi, who was surprised [Pg lvii] at my being willing to give myself this trouble. He made me a present of these books, telling me he had still many drawings by the same author, long neglected in the garrets of his house in the country. Thus these books became my property, and afterwards they belonged to my brothers[i85]. These latter having made too much parade of this acquisition, and the ease with which I was brought to it, excited the envy of other amateurs, who beset Horatio, and obtained from him some drawings, some figures, some anatomical pieces, and other valuable remains of the cabinet of Leonardo. One of these spungers for the works of Leonardo, was Pompeo Aretin, son of the Cavalier Leoni, formerly a disciple of Bonaroti, and who was about Philip II. King of Spain, for whom he did all the bronzes which are at the Escurial. Pompeo engaged himself to procure for Melzi an employment to the senate of Milan, if he succeeded in recovering the thirteen books, wishing to offer them to King Philip, a lover of such curiosities. Flattered with this hope, Melzi went to my brother’s house: he besought him on his knees to restore him his present; he was a fellow-collegian, a friend, a benefactor: seven volumes [Pg lviii] were returned to him [i86]. Of the six others which remained to the Mazenta family, one was presented to Cardinal Frederic Borromeo, for the Ambrosian library [i87]. My brother gave a second to Ambrose Figini, a celebrated painter of his time, who left it to his heir Hercole Bianchi, with the rest of his cabinet. Urged by the Duke of Savoy, I procured for him a third; and in conclusion, my brother having died at a distance from Milan [i88], the three remaining volumes came also into the hands of Pompeo Aretin; he re-assembled also others of them, he separated the leaves of them to form a thick volume[i89], which passed to his heir Polidoro Calchi, and was afterwards sold to Galeazzo Arconati. This gentleman keeps it now in his rich library; he has refused it to the Duke of Savoy, and to other princes who were desirous of it.”

[Pg lix]

In addition to this memoir, Venturi notices[i90], that Howard Earl of Arundel made ineffectual efforts to obtain this large volume, and offered for it as far as 60,000 francs, in the name of the King of England. Arconati would never part with it; he bought eleven other books of Da Vinci, which came also, according to appearance, from Leoni; in 1637 he made a gift of them all to the Ambrosian library[i91], which already was in possession of the volume E, from Mazenta, and received afterwards the volume K from Horatio Archinto, in 1674[i92].

Venturi says, this is the history of all the manuscripts of Vinci that are come into France; they are in number fourteen, because the volume B contains an appendix of eighteen leaves, which may be separated, and considered as the fourteenth volume[i93].

In the printed catalogue of the library of Turin, one does not see noticed the manuscript which Mazenta gave to the Duke of Savoy: it has then disappeared. Might it not be that which an Englishman got copied by Francis[Pg lx] Ducci, library-keeper at Florence, and a copy of which is still remaining in the same city [i94]?

The Trivulce family at Milan, according to Venturi[i95], possess also a manuscript of Vinci, which is in great part only a vocabulary.

Of the volume in the possession of his Britannic Majesty, the following account is given in the life of Leonardo, prefixed to that number already published from it by Mr. Chamberlaine: “It was one of the three volumes which became the property of Pompeo Leoni, that is now in his Majesty’s cabinet. It is rather probable than certain, that this great curiosity was acquired for King Charles I. by the Earl of Arundel, when he went Ambassador to the Emperor Ferdinand II. in 1636, as may indeed be inferred from an instructive inscription over the place where the volumes are kept, which sets forth, that James King of England offered three thousand pistoles for one of the volumes of Leonardo’s works. And some documents in the Ambrosian library give colour to this conjecture. This volume was happily preserved during the civil wars of the last century among other specimens of the fine arts, which the munificence of[Pg lxi] Charles I. had amassed with a diligence equal to his taste. And it was discovered soon after his present Majesty’s accession in the same cabinet where Queen Caroline found the fine portraits of the court of Henry VIII. by Hans Holbein, which the King’s liberality permitted me lately to lay before the public. On the cover of this volume is written, in gold letters, what ascertains its descent; Disegni di Leonardo da Vinci, restaurati da Pompeo Leoni.”

Although no part of the collections of Leonardo was arranged and prepared by himself, or others under his direction, for publication, some extracts have been made from his writings, and given to the world as separate tracts. The best known, and indeed the principal of these, is the following Treatise on Painting, of which there will be occasion to say more presently; but besides this, Edward Cooper, a London bookseller, about the year 1720, published a fragment of a Treatise by Leonardo da Vinci, on the Motions of the Human Body, and the Manner of drawing Figures, according to geometrical Rules. It contains but ten plates in folio, including the title-page, and was evidently extracted from some of the volumes of his collections, as it consists of slight sketches and verbal[Pg lxii] descriptions both in Italian and English, to explain such of them as needed it.

Mr. Dalton, as has been before noticed, several years since published some engravings from the volume in our King’s collection, but they are so badly done as to be of no value. Mr. Chamberlaine therefore, in 1796, took up the intention afresh, and in that year his first number came out, which is all that has yet appeared.

Of the Treatise on Painting, Venturi[i96] gives the following particulars: “The Treatise on Painting which we have of Vinci is only a compilation of different fragments extracted from his manuscripts. It was in the Barberini library at Rome, in 1630[i97]: the Cav. del Pozzo obtained a copy from it, and Poussin designed the figures of it in 1640[i98]. This copy, and another derived from the same source, in the possession of Thevenot, served as the basis for the edition published in 1651, by Raphael du Frêne. The manuscript of Pozzo, with the figures of Poussin, is actually at Paris, in the valuable collection of[Pg lxiii] books of Chardin [i99]. It is from this that I have taken the relation of Mazenta; it is at the end of the manuscript under this title: “Some Notices of the Works of Leonardo da Vinci at Milan, and of his Books, by J. Ambrose Mazenta of Milan, of the Congregation of the Priests Regular of St. Paul, called the Barnabites.” Mazenta does not announce himself as the author of the compilation; he may however be so; it may also happen, that the compilation was made by the heir himself of Vinci, Francisco Melzo. Vasari, about 1567, says [i100], that a painter of Milan had the manuscripts of Vinci, which were written backwards; that this painter came to him, and afterwards went to Rome, with intention to get them printed, but that he did not know what was the result. However it may be, Du Frêne confesses that this compilation is imperfect in many respects, and ill arranged. It is so, because the compiler has not seized the methodical spirit of Vinci, and that there are mixed with it some[Pg lxiv] pieces which belong to other tracts; besides, one has not seen where many other chapters have been neglected which ought to make part of it. For example, the comparison of painting with sculpture, which has been announced as a separate treatise of the same author, is nothing more than a chapter belonging to the Treatise on Painting, A. 105. All this will be complete, and put in order, in the Treatise on Optics[i101]. In the mean time, however, the following are the different editions of this compilation, such as it is at present:

“Trattato della Pittura di Leonardo da Vinci, nuovamente dato in Luce, con la Vita dell’ Autore da Raphaele du Frêne, Parigi 1651, in fol.; reprinted at Naples in 1733, in folio; at Bologna, in 1786, in folio; at Florence, in 1792, in 4to. This last edition has been given from a copy in the hand-writing of Stephano della Bella.

“——Translated into French by Roland Freart de Chambray, Paris 1651, fol. reprinted ibid. 1716, in 12mo, and 1796, in 8vo.

“——Translated into German, in 4to. Nuremberg 1786, Weigel.

“——Translated into Greek by Panagiotto, manuscript in the Nani library at Venice.

[Pg lxv]

“Another manuscript copy of this compilation was in the possession of P. Orlandi, from whence it passed into the library of Smith[i102].

“Cellini, in a discourse published by Morelli, says[i103], that he possessed a copy of a book of De Vinci on Perspective, which he communicated to Serlio, and that this latter published from it all that he could comprehend. Might not this be the tract which Gori announces to be in the library of the Academy of Cortona[i104]?”

The reputation in which the Treatise on Painting ought to be held, is not now for the first time to be settled; its merit has been acknowledged by the best judges, though at that time it laboured under great disadvantage from the want of a proper arrangement. In the present publication that objection is removed, and the attempt has been favourable to the work itself, as it has shewn it, by bringing together the several chapters that related to each other, to be a much more complete and connected treatise than was before supposed. Notwithstanding however the fair estimation in which it has always stood, and which is no more than its due, one person has been found hardy enough to endeavour, though[Pg lxvi] unsuccessfully, to lessen its credit: a circumstance which it would not have been worth while to notice, if it had not been intimated to us, that there are still some persons in France who side with the objector, which, as he was a Frenchman, and Leonardo an Italian, may perhaps be ascribed, in some measure at least, to the desire which in several instances that people have lately shewn of claiming on behalf of their countrymen, a preference over others, to which they are not entitled. Abraham Bosse, of the city of Tours, an engraver in copper, who lived in the last century, is the person here alluded to; and it may not be impertinent in this place to state some of the motives by which he was induced to such a conduct. At the time when this Treatise first made its appearance in France, as well in Italian as in French, Bosse appears to have been resident at Paris, and was a member of the Academy of Painting, where he gave the first lessons on perspective, and, with the assistance of Mons. Desargues, published from time to time several tracts on geometry and perspective, the manner of designing, and the art of engraving, some of which at least are described in the title-page, as printed at Paris for the author[i105]. This man,[Pg lxvii] in his lectures, having, it is said, attacked some of the pictures painted by Le Brun, the then Director of the Academy, had been very deservedly removed from his situation, and forced to quit the Academy, for endeavouring to lessen that authority, which for the instruction and improvement of students it was necessary the Director should possess, and attempting thus to render fruitless the precepts which his situation required him to deliver. As this Treatise of Leonardo had in the translation been adopted by Le Brun, who fully saw its value, and introduced it into the Academy for the advantage of the students, by which means the sale of Bosse’s work might be, and probably was, affected; Bosse, at the end of a Treatise on Geometry and Perspective, taught in the Royal Academy of Painting and Sculpture, published by him in octavo in 1665, has inserted a paper with this title, which in the original is given in French, but we have preferred translating it: “What follows is for those who shall have the curiosity to be acquainted with a part of the procedings of Mons. Desargues, and myself, against some of our antagonists, and part of their skill; together with some remarks made on the contents of several chapters of a Treatise attributed to Leonardo de Vinci, translated from Italian into French by[Pg lxviii] Mons. Freart Sieur de Chambray, from a manuscript taken from that which is in the library of the illustrious, virtuous, and curious Mons. le Chevalier Du Puis at Rome.”

After the explanation of his motives above given, it is not wonderful to find him asserting, that this Treatise of Leonardo was in a number of circumstances inferior to his own; nor to observe, that in a list of some of the chapters which he has there given, we should be frequently told by him that they are false, absurd, ridiculous, confused, trifling, weak, and, in short, every thing but good. It is true that the estimation of Leonardo da Vinci was in France too high for him to attack without risking his own character for judgment and taste, and he has therefore found it necessary for his purpose insidiously to suggest that these chapters were interpolations; but of this he has produced no proof, which, had it been the fact, might have been easily obtained, by only getting some friend to consult Leonardo’s manuscript collections in the Ambrosian library. That he would have taken this step if he had expected any success from it, may fairly be inferred from the circumstance of his writing to Poussin at Rome, apparently in hopes of inducing him to say something to the disadvantage of the work; and his omitting to make this inquiry after the enmity he has shewn against the book, fully justifies[Pg lxix] an opinion that he forbore to inquire, because he was conscious that such an investigation would have terminated in vindicating his adversaries from his aspersions, and have furnished evidence of their fidelity and accuracy.

What the letter which he wrote to Poussin contained, he has not informed us; but he has given us, as he says, Poussin’s answer[i106], in which are some passages relating to this Treatise, of which we here give a translation: “As to what concerns the book of Leonard Vinci, it is true that I have designed the human figures which are in that which Mons. le Chevalier du Puis has; but all the others, whether geometrical or otherwise, are of one man, named Gli Alberti, the very same who has drawn the plants which are in the book of subterraneous Rome; and the awkward landscapes which are behind some of the little human figures of the copy which Mons. du Chambray has caused to be printed, have been added to it by one Errard, without my knowing any thing of it.

“All that is good in this book may be written on one sheet of paper, in a large character, and those who believe that I approve all that is in it, do not know me; I who profess never to give sanction to things of my profession which I know to be ill done and ill said.”

[Pg lxx]

Whoever recollects the difference in the course of study pursued and recommended by Leonardo (that of Nature), from that observed by Poussin (that of the antique), and remembers also the different fortunes of Le Brun and Poussin, that the one was at the head of his profession, enjoying all its honours and emoluments, while the other, though conscious of his own great powers, was toiling for a daily subsistence in comparative obscurity, may easily conceive why the latter could not approve a work which so strongly inculcates the adopting Nature as the guide throughout; and which was at the same time patronized by one whom he could not but consider as his more fortunate rival. It may however be truly affirmed, that even the talents of Poussin, great as they certainly were, and his knowledge and correctness in drawing, would have been abundantly improved by an attention to the rules laid down in this Treatise, and that the study of Nature would have freed his pictures from that resemblance to statues which his figures frequently have, and bestowed on them the soft and fleshy appearance for which Leonardo was so remarkable; while a minute investigation of Leonardo’s system of colouring would have produced perhaps in him as fortunate a change as we have seen it did in the case of Raphael.

[Pg lxxi]

Though Bosse tells us [i107], that he had seen in the hands of Mons. Felibien, a manuscript copy of this Tract on Painting, which he said he had taken from the same original mentioned before, for the purpose of translating it into French; and that on Bosse’s pointing out to him some of these errors, and informing him that Mons. de Chambray was far advanced in his translation, he abandoned his design, and assigned to the Sieur de Chambray the privilege he had obtained for it; we have no intention here to enumerate or answer Bosse’s objections, merely because such an undertaking would greatly exceed the limits which can here be allowed us. Most of them will be found captious and splenetic, and, together with the majority of the rest, might be fully refuted by a deduction of facts; it is however sufficient on the present occasion to say, that wherever opportunity has been afforded of tracing the means by which Leonardo procured his materials for any great composition, he is found to have exactly pursued the path which he recommends to others [i108]; and for the success of his precepts, [Pg lxxii] and what may be effected by them, we need only appeal to his own example.

To this enumeration of the productions of Leonardo’s pen, and in contradiction to the fact already asserted, that no part of his collections was ever arranged or prepared for publication by himself, it is probable we may be told we should add tracts on Motion; on the Equilibrium of bodies; on the nature, equilibrium, and motion of Water; on Anatomy; on the Anatomy of an horse; on Perspective; and on Light and Shadow: which are either mentioned by himself in the Treatise on Painting, or ascribed to him by others. But as to these, there is great reason for supposing, that, though they might be intended, they were never actually drawn up into form. Certain it is, that no such have been ever given to the world, as those before noticed are the only treatises of this author that have yet appeared in print; and even they have already been shewn to be no more than extracts from the immense mass of his collections of such passages as related to the subjects on which they profess to give intelligence. If any tracts therefore in his name, on any of the above topics, are any where existing [Pg lxxiii] in manuscript, and in obscurity, it is probable they are only similar selections. And indeed it will be found on inspection, that his collections consist of a multitude of entries made at different times, without method, order, or arrangement of any kind, so as to form an immense chaos of intelligence, which he, like many other voluminous collectors, intended at some future time to digest and arrange, but unfortunately postponed this task so long, that he did not live to carry that intention into effect. Under these circumstances, should it happen, as perhaps it may, that any volume of the whole is confined exclusively to any one branch of science, such as hydrostatics for instance, it was not the consequence of a designed plan, but only arose from this accident, that he had then made that branch the object of his pursuit, and for a time laid aside the rest. In proof of this assertion it may be observed, that the very treatise of light and shadow above mentioned, is described as in the Ambrosian library at Milan, and as a folio volume covered with red velvet, presented by Signior Mazzenta to Cardinal Borromeo[i109]; from all which circumstances it is evidently proved to be [Pg lxxiv] one of the volumes now existing in France [i110], which were inspected and described by Venturi in the tract so often cited in the course of this life.

Although the principal of Leonardo’s productions have been already mentioned, it has been thought proper, for the satisfaction of the curious, here to subjoin a catalogue of such of them as have come to our knowledge; distinguishing in it such as were only drawings, from such as were finished pictures, and noticing also which of them have been engraven, and by whom.

ARCHITECTURE.

Many designs for plans and buildings, made by him in his youth[i111].

A model made by him for raising the roof of the church of St. John, at Florence[i112].

The house of the family of Melzi at Vaprio, supposed by Della Valle to be designed by Leonardo [i113].

MODELS and SCULPTURE.

Some heads of laughing women, modelled by him in clay, in his youth[i114].

Some boys’ heads also, which appeared to have come from the hand of a master[i115].

[Pg lxxvi]

Three figures in bronze, over the gate on the north side of the church of St. John, at Florence, made by Gio. Francesco Rustici, but designed with the advice of Leonardo da Vinci [i116].

A model in clay, in alto relievo. It is a circle of about two palms in diameter, and represents St. Jerom in a grotto, old, and much worn out by prayer. It was in the possession of Sig. Ignazio Hugford, a painter at Florence, who was induced to buy it in consequence of the great praises which in his youth he had heard bestowed on it by the celebrated Anton. Dominico Gabbiani, his master, who knew it to be of the hand of Leonardo. This model appears to have been much studied in the time of Pontormo and Rosso; and many copies of it, both drawings and pictures, are to be found throughout Florence, well painted in their manner[i117].

The equestrian statue in memory of the Duke of Milan’s father, which was not only finished and exposed to view, but broken to pieces by the French when they took possession of Milan. It has been said by some, that the model only was finished, and the statue never cast, and that it was the model only which the French destroyed [i118].

Vasari, p. 36, mentions a little model by Leonardo in wax, but he does not say what was its subject.

[Pg lxxvii]

DRAWINGS.

Vasari, p. 24, says, that it was Leonardo’s practice to model figures from the life, and then to cover them with fine thin lawn or cambric, so as to be able to see through it, and with the point of a fine pencil to trace off the outlines in black and white; and that some such drawings he had in his collection.

A head in chiaro oscuro, in the possession of Vasari, and mentioned by him as divine, a drawing on paper [i119].

A carton of Adam and Eve in Paradise, made by him for the King of Portugal. It is done with a pen in chiaro oscuro, and heightened with white, and was intended to be worked as tapestry in silk and gold; but Vasari says it was never executed, and that in his time the carton remained at Florence, in the house of Ottaviano de Medici. Whether this carton is still existing is unknown [i120].

Several ridiculous heads of men and women, formerly in Vasari’s collection, drawn in pen and ink [i121]. Aurelio Lovino had, says Lomazzo, a book of sketches by Leonardo, of odd and ridiculous heads. This book appears to have contained about 250 figures of countrymen and countrywomen laughing,[Pg lxxviii] drawn by the hand of Leonardo. Card. Silvio Valenti had a similar book, in which were caricature heads drawn with a pen, like that engraven by Count Caylus. Of these caricatures mention is made in the second volume of the Lettere Pittoriche, p. 170[i122]. The passage in the Lettere Pittoriche here referred to, is part of a letter without any name or date, addressed Al Sig. C. di C.; but a note of the editor’s explains these initials, as meaning Sig. Conte di Caylus, and supposes the author to have been the younger Mariette. The letter mentions a collection of heads from Leonardo’s drawings, published by the Count; and the editor, in another note, tells us, that they are caricature heads drawn in pen and ink; that the originals were bought in Holland, from Sig. Cardin. Silvio Valenti, and that the prints of which the letter speaks, are in the famous collection of the Corsini library. The author of the Letter supposes these caricatures to have been drawn when Vinci retired to Melzi’s house, that he invented them as a new sort of recreation, and intended them as a subject for the academy which he had established at Milan.

In another part of the same Letter, p. 173, 174, this collection of drawings of heads is again mentioned, and it is there said, that it might be that which belonged to the Earl of Arundel. This conjecture is founded on there being many such heads [Pg lxxix] engraven formerly by Hollar. In fact, the number of the plates which he has done from drawings of this painter, are near one hundred, which compose different series. The author of the Letter adds, that, if a conjecture might be permitted, we might affirm, that this is the collection of heads of which Paul Lomazzo speaks; at least the description which he gives of a similar collection which was in the hands of Aurelio Lovino, a painter of Milan, corresponds with this as well in the number of the drawings as their subjects. It represents, like this, studies from old men, countrymen, wrinkled old women, which are all laughing. Another part of this Letter says, it is easy to believe that the collection of drawings of heads which occasioned this Letter, might be one of those books in which Leonardo noted the most singular countenances.

In p. 198 of the same Letter, Hollar’s engravings are said to be about an hundred, and to have been done at Antwerp in 1645, and the following year; and in p. 199, Count Caylus’s publication is said to contain 59 plates in aqua fortis, done in 1730, and that this latter is the work so often mentioned in the Letter.

Another collection of the same kind of caricature heads mentioned in Mariette’s Letter[i123], as existing in the cabinet of either the King of Spain or the King of Sardinia.

[Pg lxxx]

Four caricature heads, mentioned, Lett. Pitt. vol. ii. p. 190, as being in the possession of Sig. Crozat. They are described as drawn with a pen, and are said to have come originally from Vasari’s collection of drawings. Of this collection it is said, in a note on the above passage, that it was afterwards carried into France, and fell into the hands of a bookseller, who took the volume to pieces, and disposed of the drawings separately, and that many of them came into the cabinets of the King, and Sig. Crozat. Others say, and it is more credible, that Vasari’s collection passed into that of the Grand Dukes of Medici.

A head of Americo Vespucci, in charcoal, but copied by Vasari in pen and ink[i124].

A head of an old man, beautifully drawn in charcoal[i125].

An head of Scarramuccia, captain of the gypsies, in chalk; formerly belonging to Pierfrancesco Giambullari, canon of St. Lorenzo, at Florence, and left by him to Donato Valdambrini of Arezzo, canon of St. Lorenzo also [i126].

Several designs of combatants on horseback, made by Leonardo for Gentil Borri, a master of defence [i127], to shew the different positions necessary for a horse soldier in defending himself, and attacking his enemy.

A carton of our Saviour, the Virgin, St. Ann, [Pg lxxxi] and St. John. Vasari says of this, that for two days, people of all sorts, men and women, young and old, resorted to Leonardo’s house to see this wonderful performance, as if they had been going to a solemn feast; and adds, that this carton was afterwards in France. It seems that this was intended for an altar-piece for the high altar of the church of the Annunziata, but the picture was never painted [i128]. However, when Leonardo afterwards went into France, he, at the desire of Francis the First, put the design into colours. Lomazzo has said, that this carton of St. Ann was carried into France; that in his time it was at Milan, in the possession of Aurelio Lovino, a painter; and that many drawings from it were in existence. What was the fate this carton of St. Ann underwent, may be seen in a letter of P. Resta, printed in the third volume of the Lettere Pittoriche, in which he says, that Leonardo made three of these cartons, and nevertheless did not convert it into a picture, but that it was painted by Salai, and that[Pg lxxxii] the picture is still in the sacristy of St. Celsus at Milan [i129].

A drawing of an old man’s head, seen in front, in red chalk; mentioned Lett. Pitt. vol. ii. p. 191.

A carton designed by him for painting the council-chamber at Florence. The subject which he chose for this purpose was, the history of Niccolo Piccinino, the Captain of Duke Philip of Milan, in which he drew a group of men on horseback fighting for a standard[i130]. Mariette, in a note, Lett. Pitt. vol. ii. p. 193, mentions this carton, which he says represented two horsemen fighting for a standard; that it was only part of a large history, the subject of which was the rout of Niccolo Piccinino, General of the army of Philip Duke of Milan, and that a print was engraven of it by Edelinck, when young, but the drawing from which he worked was a bad one. In the catalogue of prints from the works of Leonardo, inserted Lett. Pitt. vol. ii. p. 195, this print is again mentioned and described more truly, as representing four horsemen fighting for a standard. It is there supposed to have been engraven from a drawing by Fiammingo, and that this drawing might have been made from the picture which Du Fresne speaks of as being in his time in the possession of Sig. La Maire, an excellent painter of perspective.

[Pg lxxxiii]

A design of Neptune drawn in his car by sea horses, attended by sea gods; made by him for his friend Antonio Segni [i131].

Several anatomical drawings made from the life, many of which have been since collected into a volume, by his scholar Francesco Melzi[i132].

A book of the Anatomy of man, mentioned by Vasari, p. 36, the drawings for which were made with the assistance of Marc Antonio della Torre, before noticed in the present life. It is probably the same with the preceding.

A beautiful and well-preserved study in red and black chalk, of the head of a Virgin, from which he afterwards painted a picture. This study was at one time in the celebrated Villa de Vecchietti, but afterwards, in consequence of a sale, passed into the hands of Sig. Ignazio Hugford [i133].

Two heads of women in profile, little differing from each other, drawn in like manner in black and red chalk, bought at the same sale by Sig. Hugford, but now among the Elector Palatine’s collection of drawings[i134].

A book of the Anatomy of a horse, mentioned by Vasari, p. 36, as a distinct work; but probably included in Leonardo’s manuscript collections. See the account before given of them.

Several designs by Leonardo were in the possession of Sig. Jabac, who seems to have been a collector of pictures, and to have bought up for the King of[Pg lxxxiv] France several excellent pictures particularly by Leonardo da Vinci [i135].

A drawing of a young man embracing an old woman, whom he is caressing for the sake of her riches. This is mentioned, Lett. Pitt. vol. ii. p. 198, as engraven by Hollar, in 1646.

A head of a young man seen in profile, engraven in aqua fortis by Conte di Caylus, from a drawing in the King of France’s collection[i136].

A fragment of a Treatise on the Motions of the Human Body, already mentioned in the foregoing life.

In the Lettere Pittoriche, vol. ii. p. 199, mention is made of a print representing some intertwisted lines upon a black ground, in the style of some of Albert Durer’s engravings in wood. In the middle of this, in a small compartment, is to be read, “Academia Leonardi Vin.” Vasari, it is there said, has noticed it as a singularity.

In p. 200 of the same work, a similar print is also noticed, which differs only in the inscription from the former. In this last it is Academia Leonardi Vici. Both this and the former print are said to be extremely rare, and only to have been seen in the King of France’s collection. It does not however appear from any thing in the Lett. Pitt. that they were designed by Leonardo.

The Abate di Villeloin, in his Catalogue of Prints [Pg lxxxv] published in 1666, speaks, under the article of Leonardo da Vinci, of a print of the taking down from the Cross; but the Lett. Pitt. says it was engraven from Eneas Vico, not from Leonardo [i137].

Two drawings of monsters, mentioned by Lomazzo, consisting of a boy’s head each, but horribly distorted by the misplacing of the features, and the introduction of other members not in Nature to be found there. These two drawings were in the hands of Francesco Borella, a sculptor[i138].

A portrait by Leonardo, of Artus, Maestro di Camera to Francis I. drawn in black lead pencil [i139].

The head of a Cæsar crowned with oak, among a valuable collection of drawings in a thick volume in folio, in the possession of Sig. Pagave[i140].

The proportions of the human body. The original of this is preserved in the possession of Sig. Pagave. At the head and foot of this drawing is to be read the description which begins thus: Tanto apre l’Uomo nelle braccia quanto è la sua altezza, &c. and above all, at the head of the work is the famous Last Supper, which he proposes to his scholars as the rule of the art [i141].

The Circumcision, a large drawing mentioned Lett. Pitt. vol. ii. 283, as the work of Leonardo, by Nicolo Gabburri, in a letter dated Florence, 4th Oct. 1732, and addressed Al Sig. Pietro Mariette. Gabburri says [Pg lxxxvi] he saw this drawing, and that it was done on white paper a little tinted with Indian ink, and heightened with ceruse. Its owner then was Alessandro Galilei, an architect of Florence.

A drawing consisting of several laughing heads, in the middle of which is another head in profile, crowned with oak leaves. This drawing was the property of the Earl of Arundel, and was engraven by Hollar in 1646[i142].

A man sitting, and collecting in a looking-glass the rays of the sun, to dazzle the eyes of a dragon who is fighting with a lion. A print of this is spoken of, Lett. Pitt. vol. ii. p. 197, as badly engraven by an anonymous artist, but it is there said to have so little of Leonardo’s manner as to afford reason for believing it not designed by him, though it might perhaps be found among his drawings in the King of France’s collection. Another print of it, of the same size, has been engraven from the drawing by Conte de Caylus. It represents a pensive man, and differs from the former in this respect, that in this the man is naked, whereas in the drawing he is clothed.

PAINTINGS.

A Madonna, formerly in the possession of Pope Clement the Seventh[i143].

[Pg lxxxvii]

A small Madonna and Child, painted for Baldassar Turini da Pescia, who was the Datary[i144] at Lyons, the colours of which are much faded[i145]. It is not known where this now is.

A Virgin and Child, at one time in the hands of the Botti family[i146].

The Virgin sitting in St. Ann’s lap, and holding her little Son, formerly at Paris[i147]. This has been engraven in wood, in chiaro oscuro, by an unknown artist. The picture was in the King of France’s cabinet, and a similar one is in the sacristy of St. Celsus at Milan[i148].

Another Virgin with her Son, St. John, and an Angel, mentioned by Du Fresne, as at Paris [i149].

A Madonna and Child, in the possession of the Marquis di Surdi[i150].

A Madonna and Child, painted on the wall in the church of St. Onofrio at Rome[i151].

A Madonna kneeling, in the King’s gallery in France[i152].

An Holy Family, with St. Michael, and another Angel, in the King of France’s collection [i153].

[Pg lxxxviii]

A Madonna, in the church of St. Francis at Milan, attributed to Leonardo by Sorman [i154].

A Virgin and Child, by Leonardo, in Piacenza, near the church of Our Lady in the Fields. It was bought for 300 chequins by the Principe di Belgioioso[i155].

A Madonna, half length, holding on her knee the infant Jesus, with a lily in his hand. A print of this, engraven in aqua fortis by Giuseppe Juster, is mentioned Lett. Pitt. vol. ii. p. 196. The picture is there said to have been in the possession of Charles Patin, and was supposed by some to have been painted for Francis I.

An Herodiade, some time in Cardinal Richelieu’s possession[i156].

The daughter of Herodias, with an executioner holding out to her the head of St. John, in the Barberini palace [i157].

An Herodiade with a basket, in which is the head of John the Baptist. A print of this in aqua fortis, by Gio. Troven, under the direction of Teniers, is mentioned Lett. Pitt. vol. ii. p. 197, and is there said to have been done from a picture which was then in the cabinet of the Archduke Leopold, but had been before in that of the Emperor.

Another picture of the same subject, but differently disposed. It is also an half length. A print[Pg lxxxix] from it, in aqua fortis, by Alessio Loyr, is mentioned Lett. Pitt. vol. ii. p. 197; but it is not there said in whose possession the picture ever was.

The angel in Verrochio’s picture before mentioned[i158].

The shield, mentioned by Vasari, p. 26, as painted by him at the request of his father, and consisting of serpents, &c.

A head of Medusa, in oil, in the palace of Duke Cosmo. It is still in being, and in good preservation [i159].

A head of an angel raising one arm in the air, in the collection of Duke Cosmo[i160]. Whether this is a picture, or only a drawing, does not appear; but as Vasari does not notice any difference between that and the head of Medusa, which he decidedly says is in oil, it is probable that this is so also.

The Adoration of the Magi: it was in the house of Americo Benci, opposite to the Portico of Peruzzi [i161].

The famous Last Supper, in the Refectory of the Dominican convent of Santa Maria delle Grazie [i162]. A list of the copies made from this celebrated picture has, together with its history, been given in a former page. A print has been engraven from it under the direction of Pietro Soutman; but he being a scholar[Pg xc] of Rubens, has introduced into it so much of Rubens’s manner [i163], that it can no longer be known for Leonardo da Vinci’s. Besides this, Mariette also mentions two other prints, one of them an engraving, the other an etching, but both by unknown authors. He notices also, that the Count di Caylus had etched it in aqua fortis[i164]. The print lately engraven of it by Morghen has been already noticed in a former page.

A Nativity, sent as a present from the Duke of Milan to the Emperor[i165].

The portraits of Lodovic Sforza, Duke of Milan, and Maximilian his eldest son, and on the other side Beatrix his dutchess, and Francesco his other son, all in one picture, in the same Refectory with the Last Supper[i166].

The portraits of two of the handsomest women at Florence, painted by him as a present to Lewis XII [i167].

The painting in the council-chamber at Florence[i168]. The subject of this is the battle of Attila [i169].

A portrait of Ginevra, daughter of Americo Benci[i170].

The portrait of Mona Lisa, the wife of Francesco del Giocondo, painted for her husband[i171]. Lomazzo[Pg xci] has said, she was a Neapolitan, but this is supposed a mistake, and that she was a Florentine[i172]. In a note of Mariette’s, Lett. Pitt. vol. ii. p. 175, this picture is said to have been in the collection of Francis I. King of France, who gave for it 4000 crowns.

A small picture of a child, which was at Pescia, in the possession of Baldassar Turini. It is not known where this now is[i173].

A painting of two horsemen struggling for a flag, in the Palais Royal at Paris[i174].

A nobleman of Mantua [i175].

A picture of Flora, which Du Fresne mentions as being in his time at Paris. This is said to have been once in the cabinet of Mary de Medicis[i176], and though for some time supposed to have been painted by Leonardo da Vinci, was discovered by Mariette to have been the work of Francisco Melzi, whose name is upon it [i177]. In the supplement to the life of Leonardo, inserted in Della Valle’s edition of Vasari, this picture is said to have been painted for the Duke de S. Simone.

A head of John the Baptist, in the hands of Camillo Albizzo[i178].

The Conception of the blessed Virgin, for the church of St. Francis at Milan[i179]. This was esteemed a copy, and not worth more than 30 chequins, till an[Pg xcii] Englishman came there, who thought a large sum of money well employed in the purchase of it [i180].

St. John in the Wilderness, said to be at Paris[i181]. In Lett. Pitt. vol. ii. p. 197, mention is made of a print of St. John the Baptist, half length, by Sig. Jabac, who had the original picture, which was formerly in the King of France’s cabinet.

Joseph and Potiphar’s wife, which Mons. de Charmois, secretary to the Duke of Schomberg, had [i182].

A portrait of Raphael, in oil, in the Medici gallery. This is mentioned in Vasari, p. 47; and though not expressly there said to be by Leonardo, is so placed as to make it doubtful whether it was or not.

A Nun, half length, by Leonardo, in the possession of Abbate Nicolini[i183].

Two fine heads, painted in oil by Leonardo, bought at Florence by Sig. Bali di Breteuil, ambassador from Malta to Rome. One of these, representing a woman, was in his first manner. The other, a Virgin, in his last[i184].

A Leda, which Lomazzo says was at Fontainebleau, and did not yield in colouring to the portrait of Joconda in the Duke’s gallery. Richardson says it was in the palace Mattei [i185].

The head of a dead man, with all its minute parts, painted by Leonardo, formerly in the Mattei palace, but no longer there[i186].

[Pg xciii]

A picture containing a study of two most delicate female heads, in the Barberini palace at Rome [i187].

A portrait of a girl with a book in her hand, in the Strozzi palace in Rome[i188].

The Dispute of Jesus with the Doctors, half length, in the Panfili palace[i189].

Five pictures in the Ambrosian library at Milan, the subjects not mentioned[i190].

Some in the gallery of the archbishopric at Milan, the number and subjects equally unnoticed [i191].

One picture in the sacristy of Santa Maria, near St. Celsus at Milan[i192].

A small head of Christ, while a youth, mentioned by Lomazzo. Probably this may be the study for the picture of Jesus disputing with the Doctors, at the Panfili palace [i193].

St. Michael with a man kneeling, in the King of France’s collection[i194].

A Bacchus, in the same collection [i195].

The fair Ferraia, in the same collection[i196].

A portrait of a lady, there also [i197].

A Christ with a globe in his hand [i198]. A very fine picture, half length, now in the possession of Richard Troward, Esq. of Pall Mall. This was engraven by Hollar in 1650, in aqua fortis[i199].

[Pg xciv]

The Fall of Phaeton, in the gallery of the Grand Duke of Tuscany, of which Scannelli speaks, but it is mentioned by no one else[i200].

St. Catherine with a palm-branch, in the gallery of the Duke of Modena[i201].

The head of a young man armed, in the same collection, very graceful, but inferior to the St. Catherine [i202].

A portrait of the Queen of Naples, which was in the Aldobrandini gallery, but afterwards to be found in a chamber of portraits in the Panfili palace. It is not equal in colouring to the Dispute of Jesus with the Doctors [i203].

A portrait in profile of the Dutchess of Milan, mentioned by Richardson as being in a chamber leading to the Ambrosian library[i204].

A beautiful figure of the Virgin, half length, in the palace of Vaprio. It is of a gigantic size, for the head of the Virgin is six common palms in size, and that of the Divine Infant four in circumference. Della Valle speaks of having seen this in the year 1791, and says he is not ignorant that tradition ascribes this Madonna to Bramante, notwithstanding which he gives it to Leonardo[i205].

A laughing Pomona with three veils, commended by Lomazzo. It was done for Francis I. King of France [i206].

The portrait of Cecilia Gallarani, mentioned by [Pg xcv] Bellincione in one of his sonnets, as painted by Leonardo [i207].

Another of Lucrezia Cavelli, a celebrated performer on the lute, ascribed to him on the same authority. Copies of both this and the former may be seen at Milan [i208].

Our Saviour before Pilate, in the church of S. Florentino, at Amboise. It is thought that the carton only of this was Leonardo’s, and that the picture was painted by Andrea Salai, or Melzi [i209].

A portrait of Leonardo by himself, half length, in the Ambrosian library at Milan [i210]. Della Valle has inserted a copy of this before the Supplement to Leonardo’s Life, in his edition of Vasari, for which purpose Sig. Pagave transmitted him a drawing from the original picture. But Leonardo’s own drawing for the picture itself, is in the possession of his Britannic Majesty, and from that Mr. Chamberlaine has prefixed to his publication before mentioned, a plate engraven by Bartolozzi.

The young student should, in the first place, acquire a knowledge of perspective, to enable him to give to every object its proper dimensions: after which, it is requisite that he be under the care of an able master, to accustom him, by degrees, to a good style of drawing the parts. Next, he must study Nature, in order to confirm and fix in his mind the reason of those precepts which he has learnt. He must also bestow some time in viewing the works of various old masters, to form his eye[Pg 2] and judgment, in order that he may be able to put in practice all that he has been taught [1].

The organ of sight is one of the quickest, and takes in at a single glance an infinite variety of forms; notwithstanding which, it cannot perfectly comprehend more than one object at a time. For example, the reader, at one look over this page, immediately perceives it full of different characters; but he cannot at the same moment distinguish each letter, much less can he comprehend their meaning. He must consider it word by word, and line by line, if he be desirous of forming a just notion of these characters. In like manner, if we wish to ascend to the top of an edifice, we must be content to advance step by step, otherwise we shall never be able to attain it.

A young man, who has a natural inclination to the study of this art, I would advise to act thus: In order to acquire a true notion of the form of things, he must begin by studying the parts which compose them, and not pass to a second till he has[Pg 3] well stored his memory, and sufficiently practised the first; otherwise he loses his time, and will most certainly protract his studies. And let him remember to acquire accuracy before he attempts quickness.

Many are very desirous of learning to draw, and are very fond of it, who are, notwithstanding, void of a proper disposition for it. This may be known by their want of perseverance; like boys, who draw every thing in a hurry, never finishing, or shadowing.

Painting is divided into two principal parts. The first is the figure, that is, the lines which distinguish the forms of bodies, and their component parts. The second is the colour contained within those limits.

The form of bodies is divided into two parts; that is, the proportion of the members to each other, which must correspond with the whole; and the motion, expressive of what passes in the mind of the living figure.

The proportion of members is again divided into two parts, viz. equality, and motion. By equality is meant (besides the measure corresponding with the[Pg 4] whole), that you do not confound the members of a young subject with those of old age, nor plump ones with those that are lean; and that, moreover, you do not blend the robust and firm muscles of man with feminine softness: that the attitudes and motions of old age be not expressed with the quickness and alacrity of youth; nor those of a female figure like those of a vigorous young man. The motions and members of a strong man should be such as to express his perfect state of health.

In general, the dimensions of the human body are to be considered in the length, and not in the breadth; because in the wonderful works of Nature, which we endeavour to imitate, we cannot in any species find any one part in one model precisely similar to the same part in another. Let us be attentive, therefore, to the variation of forms, and avoid all monstrosities of proportion; such as long legs united to short bodies, and narrow chests with long arms. Observe also attentively the measure of joints, in which Nature is apt to vary considerably; and imitate her example by doing the same.

The measures of the human body vary in each member, according as it is more or less bent, or seen in different views, increasing on one side as much as they diminish on the other.

[Pg 5]

In men and children I find a great difference between the joints of the one and the other in the length of the bones. A man has the length of two heads from the extremity of one shoulder to the other, the same from the shoulder to the elbow, and from the elbow to the fingers; but the child has only one, because Nature gives the proper size first to the seat of the intellect, and afterwards to the other parts.

A man, in his infancy, has the breadth of his shoulders equal to the length of the face, and to the length of the arm from the shoulder to the elbow, when the arm is bent [2]. It is the same again from the lower belly to the knee, and from the knee to the foot. But, when a man is arrived at the period of his full growth, every one of these dimensions becomes double in length, except the face, which, with the top of the head, undergoes but very little alteration in length. A well-proportioned and full-grown man, therefore, is ten times the length of his face; the breadth of his shoulders will be two faces, and in like manner all the above lengths will be double. The rest will[Pg 6] be explained in the general measurement of the human body[3].

All the parts of any animal whatever must be correspondent with the whole. So that, if the body be short and thick, all the members belonging to it must be the same. One that is long and thin must have its parts of the same kind; and so of the middle size. Something of the same may be observed in plants, when uninjured by men or tempests; for when thus injured they bud and grow again, making young shoots from old plants, and by those means destroying their natural symmetry.

If a man be short and thick, be careful that all his members be of the same nature, viz. short arms and thick, large hands, short fingers, with broad joints; and so of the rest.

Measure upon yourself the proportion of the parts, and, if you find any of them defective, note it down, and be very careful to avoid it in drawing your own compositions. For this is reckoned a common fault in painters, to delight in the imitation of themselves.

[Pg 7]

If the painter has clumsy hands, he will be apt to introduce them into his works, and so of any other part of his person, which may not happen to be so beautiful as it ought to be. He must, therefore, guard particularly against that self-love, or too good opinion of his own person, and study by every means to acquire the knowledge of what is most beautiful, and of his own defects, that he may adopt the one and avoid the other.

The young painter must, in the first instance, accustom his hand to copying the drawings of good masters; and when his hand is thus formed, and ready, he should, with the advice of his director, use himself also to draw from relievos; according to the rules we shall point out in the treatise on drawing from relievos [4].

[Pg 8]

When you draw from relievos, tinge your paper of some darkish demi-tint. And after you have made your outline, put in the darkest shadows, and, last of all, the principal lights, but sparingly, especially the smaller ones; because those are easily lost to the eye at a very moderate distance[5].

In drawing from relievo, the draftsman must place himself in such a manner, as that the eye of the figure to be drawn be level with his own[6].

[Pg 9]

Accustom yourself to hold a plummet in your hand, that you may judge of the bearing of the parts.

When you draw from Nature, you must be at the distance of three times the height of the object; and when you begin to draw, form in your own mind a certain principal line (suppose a perpendicular); observe well the bearing of the parts towards that line; whether they intersect, are parallel to it, or oblique.

When you draw from a naked model, always sketch in the whole of the figure, suiting all the members well to each other; and though you finish only that part which appears the best, have a regard to the rest, that, whenever you make use of such studies, all the parts may hang together.

In composing your attitudes, take care not to turn the head on the same side as the breast, nor let the arm go in a line with the leg[7]. If the head turn towards the right shoulder, the parts must be lower on the left side than on the other; but if the chest come forward, and the head turn towards the left, the parts on the right side are to be the highest.

[Pg 10]

I have experienced no small benefit, when in the dark and in bed, by retracing in my mind the outlines of those forms which I had previously studied, particularly such as had appeared the most difficult to comprehend and retain; by this method they will be confirmed and treasured up in the memory.

The cartilage, which raises the nose in the middle of the face, varies in eight different ways. It is equally straight, equally concave, or equally convex, which is the first sort. Or, secondly, unequally straight, concave, or convex. Or, thirdly, straight in the upper part, and concave in the under. Or, fourthly, straight again in the upper part, and convex in those below. Or, fifthly, it may be concave and straight beneath. Or, sixthly, concave above, and convex below. Or, seventhly, it may be convex in the upper part, and straight in the lower. And in the eighth and last place, convex above, and concave beneath.

The uniting of the nose with the brows is in two ways, either it is straight or concave. The forehead has three different forms. It is straight, concave, or round. The first is divided into two parts, viz. it is either convex in the upper part, or in the lower, sometimes both; or else flat above and below.

[Pg 11]

You must observe and remember well the variations of the four principal features in the profile; the nose, mouth, chin, and forehead. And first of the nose, of which there are three different sorts[8], straight, concave, and convex. Of the straight there are but four variations, short or long, high at the end, or low. Of the concave there are three sorts; some have the concavity above, some in the middle, and some at the end. The convex noses also vary three ways; some project in the upper part, some in the middle, and others at the bottom. Nature, which seems to delight in infinite variety, gives again three changes to those noses which have a projection in the middle; for some have it straight, some concave, and some convex.

If you wish to retain with facility the general look of a face, you must first learn how to draw well several faces, mouths, eyes, noses, chins, throats, necks, and shoulders; in short, all those principal parts which distinguish one man from another. For instance, noses are often different sorts[9]. Straight,[Pg 12] bunched, concave, some raised above, some below the middle, aquiline, flat, round, and sharp. These affect the profile. In the front view there are eleven different sorts. Even, thick in the middle, thin in the middle, thick at the tip, thin at the beginning, thin at the tip, and thick at the beginning. Broad, narrow, high, and low nostrils; some with a large opening, and some more shut towards the tip.

The same variety will be found in the other parts of the face, which must be drawn from Nature, and retained in the memory. Or else, when you mean to draw a likeness from memory, take with you a pocket-book, in which you have marked all these variations of features, and after having given a look at the face you mean to draw, retire a little aside, and note down in your book which of the features are similar to it; that you may put it all together at home.

A painter ought not certainly to refuse listening to the opinion of any one; for we know that, although a man be not a painter, he may have just notions of the forms of men; whether a man has a hump on his back, a thick leg, or a large hand; whether he be lame, or have any other defect. Now, if we know that men are able to judge of the works of Nature, should we not think them more able to detect our errors?

[Pg 13]

The principal and most important consideration required in drawing figures, is to set the head well upon the shoulders, the chest upon the hips, the hips and shoulders upon the feet.

Study the science first, and then follow the practice which results from that science. Pursue method in your study, and do not quit one part till it be perfectly engraven in the memory; and observe what difference there is between the members of animals and their joints[10].

It is an easy matter for a man who is well versed in the principles of his art, to become universal in the practice of it, since all animals have a similarity of members, that is, muscles, tendons, bones, &c. These only vary in length or thickness, as will be demonstrated in the Anatomy[11]. As for aquatic animals, [Pg 14] of which there is great variety, I shall not persuade the painter to take them as a rule, having no connexion with our purpose.

It reflects no great honour on a painter to be able to execute only one thing well, such as a head, an academy figure, or draperies, animals, landscape, or the like, confining himself to some particular object of study; because there is scarcely a person so void of genius as to fail of success, if he apply earnestly to one branch of study, and practise it continually.

It is very necessary that painters should have a knowledge of the bones which support the flesh by which they are covered, but particularly of the joints, which increase and diminish the length of them in their appearance. As in the arm, which does not measure the same when bent, as when extended; its difference between the greatest extension and bending, is about one eighth of its length. The increase and diminution of the arm is effected by the bone projecting out of its socket at the elbow; which, as [Pg 15] is seen in figure A B, Plate I. is lengthened from the shoulder to the elbow; the angle it forms being less than a right angle. It will appear longer as that angle becomes more acute, and will shorten in proportion as it becomes more open or obtuse.

There are in the joints of the human body certain small bones, fixed in the middle of the tendons which connect several of the joints. Such are the patellas of the knees, and the joints of the shoulders, and those of the feet. They are eight in number, one at each shoulder, one at each knee, and two at each foot under the first joint of the great toe towards the heel. These grow extremely hard as a man advances in years.

Note down which muscles and tendons are brought into action by the motion of any member, and when they are hidden. Remember that these remarks are of the greatest importance to painters and sculptors, who profess to study anatomy, and the science of the muscles. Do the same with children, following the different gradations of age from their birth even to decrepitude, describing the changes which the members, and particularly the joints, undergo; which of them grow fat, and which lean.

[Pg 16]

The joints of the shoulders, and other parts which bend, shall be noticed in their places in the Treatise on Anatomy, where the cause of the motions of all the parts which compose the human body shall be explained[12].

Young children have all their joints small, but they are thick and plump in the spaces between them; because there is nothing upon the bones at the joints, but some tendons to bind the bones together. The soft flesh, which is full of fluids, is enclosed under the skin in the space between the joints; and as the bones are bigger at the joints than in the space between them, the skin throws off in the progress to manhood that superfluity, and draws nearer to the bones, thinning the whole part together. But upon the joints it does not lessen, as there is nothing but cartilages and tendons. For these reasons children are small in the joints, and plump in the space between, as may be observed in their fingers, arms, and narrow shoulders. Men, on the contrary, are large and full in the joints, in the arms and legs; and where children have hollows, men are knotty and prominent.

[Pg 17]

The joints of the fingers appear larger on all sides when they bend; the more they bend the larger they appear. The contrary is the case when straight. It is the same in the toes, and it will be more perceptible in proportion to their fleshiness.

The wrist or joint between the hand and arm lessens on closing the hand, and grows larger when it opens. The contrary happens in the arm, in the space between the elbow and the hand, on all sides; because in opening the hand the muscles are extended and thinned in the arm, from the elbow to the wrist; but when the hand is shut, the same muscles swell and shorten. The tendons alone start, being stretched by the clenching of the hand.

The increase and diminution in the joint of the foot is produced on that side where the tendons are seen, as D E F, Plate I. which increases when the angle is acute, and diminishes when it becomes obtuse. It must be understood of the joint in the front part of the foot A B C.

Of all the members which have pliable joints, the knee is the only one that lessens in the bending, and becomes larger by extension.

[Pg 18]

All the joints of the human body become larger by bending, except that of the leg.

When a figure is to appear nimble and delicate, its muscles must never be too much marked, nor are any of them to be much swelled. Because such figures are expressive of activity and swiftness, and are never loaded with much flesh upon the bones. They are made light by the want of flesh, and where there is but little flesh there cannot be any thickness of muscles.

Muscular men have large bones, and are in general thick and short, with very little fat; because the fleshy muscles in their growth contract closer together, and the fat, which in other instances lodges between them, has no room. The muscles in such thin subjects, not being able to extend, grow in thickness, particularly towards their middle, in the parts most removed from the extremities.

Though fat people have this in common with muscular men, that they are frequently short and thick, they have thin muscles; but their skin contains a great deal of spongy and soft flesh full of air; [Pg 19] for that reason they are lighter upon the water, and swim better than muscular people.

In raising or lowering the arm, the pectoral muscles disappear, or acquire a greater relievo. A similar effect is produced by the hips, when they bend either inwards or outwards. It is to be observed, that there is more variety of appearances in the shoulders, hips, and neck, than in any other joint, because they are susceptible of the greatest variety of motions. But of this subject I shall make a separate treatise [13].

The muscles are not to be scrupulously marked all the way, because it would be disagreeable to the sight, and of very difficult execution. But on that side only where the members are in action, they should be pronounced more strongly; for muscles that are at work naturally collect all their parts together, to gain increase of strength, so that some small parts of those muscles will appear, that were not seen before.

[Pg 20]

The muscles of young men are not to be marked strongly, nor too much swelled, because that would indicate full strength and vigour of age, which they have not yet attained. Nevertheless they must be more or less expressed, as they are more or less employed. For those which are in motion are always more swelled and thicker than those which remain at rest. The intrinsic and central line of the members which are bent, never retains its natural length.

The muscle at the back part of the thigh shows more variety in its extension and contraction, than any other in the human body; the second, in that respect, are those which compose the buttocks; the third, those of the back; the fourth, those of the neck; the fifth, those of the shoulders; and the sixth, those of the Abdomen, which, taking their rise under the breast, terminate under the lower belly; as I shall explain when I speak of each.

There is a muscle which begins under the breast at the Sternum, and is inserted into, or terminates at the Os pubis, under the lower belly. It is called the Rectus of the Abdomen; it is divided, lengthways, [Pg 21] into three principal portions, by transverse tendinous intersections or ligaments, viz. the superior part, and a ligament; the second part, with its ligaments; and the third part, with the third ligament; which last unites by tendons to the Os pubis. These divisions and intersections of the same muscle are intended by nature to facilitate the motion when the body is bent or distended. If it were made of one piece, it would produce too much variety when extended, or contracted, and also would be considerably weaker. When this muscle has but little variety in the motion of the body, it is more beautiful [14].

The muscles which serve either to straighten or bend the arm, arise from the different processes of the Scapula; some of them from the protuberances of the Humerus, and others about the middle of the Os humeri. The extensors of the arm arise from behind, and the flexors from before.

That a man has more power in pulling than in pushing, has been proved by the ninth proposition De Ponderibus[15], where it is said, that of two equal[Pg 22] weights, that will have the greatest power which is farthest removed from the pole or centre of its balance. It follows then of course, that the muscle N B, Plate II. and the muscle N C, being of equal power, the inner muscle N C, will nevertheless be stronger than the outward one N B, because it is inserted into the arm at C, a point farther removed from the centre of the elbow A, than B, which is on the other side of such centre, so that that question is determined. But this is a simple power, and I thought it best to explain it before I mentioned the complex power of the muscles, of which I must now take notice. The complex power, or strength, is, for instance, this, when the arm is going to act, a second power is added to it (such as the weight of the body and the strength of the legs, in pulling or pushing), consisting in the extension of the parts, as when two men attempt to throw down a column; the one by pushing, and the other by pulling[16].

A man has the greatest power in pulling, for in that action he has the united exertion of all the muscles of the arm, while some of them must be inactive when he is pushing; because when the arm is extended for that purpose, the muscles which move the elbow cannot act, any more than if he pushed with his shoulders against the column he means to throw down; in which case only the muscles that extend the back, the legs under the thigh, and the calves of the legs, would be active. From which we conclude, that in pulling there is added to the power of extension the strength of the arms, of the legs, of the back, and even of the chest, if the oblique motion of the body require it. But in pushing, though all the parts were employed, yet the strength of the muscles of the arms is wanting; for to push with an extended arm without motion does not help more than if a piece of wood were placed from the shoulder to the column meant to be pushed down.

[Pg 23]

The flesh which covers the bones near and at the joints, swells or diminishes in thickness according to their bending or extension; that is, it increases at the inside of the angle formed by the bending, and grows narrow and lengthened on the outward side of the exterior angle. The middle between the convex and concave angle participates of this increase or diminution, but in a greater or less degree as the parts are nearer to, or farther from, the angles of the bending joints.

The members of naked men who work hard in different attitudes, will shew the muscles more strongly on that side where they act forcibly to bring the part into action; and the other muscles will be [Pg 24] more or less marked, in proportion as they co-operate in the same motion.

Where the arm joins with the hand, there is a ligament, the largest in the human body, which is without muscles, and is called the strong ligament of the Carpus; it has a square shape, and serves to bind and keep close together the bones of the arm, and the tendons of the fingers, and prevent their dilating, or starting out.

In bending the joints the flesh will always form a crease on the opposite side to that where it is tight.

When the arms are carried behind the back, the elbows can never be brought nearer than the length from the elbow to the end of the longest finger; so that the fingers will not be seen beyond the elbows, and in that situation, the arms with the shoulders form a perfect square. The greatest extension of the arm across the chest is, when the elbow comes over the pit of the stomach; the elbow and the shoulder in this position, will form an equilateral triangle.

A naked figure being strongly marked, so as to give a distinct view of all the muscles, will not express any motion; because it cannot move, if some of its muscles do not relax while the others are pulling. Those which relax cease to appear in proportion as the others pull strongly and become apparent.

[Pg 25]

The muscles of the human body are to be more or less marked according to their degree of action. Those only which act are to be shewn, and the more forcibly they act, the stronger they should be pronounced. Those that do not act at all must remain soft and flat.

The bodies of men diminish as much on the side which bends, as they increase on the opposite side. That diminution may at last become double, in proportion to the extension on the other side. But of this I shall make a separate treatise [17].

The body which bends, lengthens as much on one side as it shortens on the other; but the central line between them will never lessen or increase.

[Pg 26]

The painter who has obtained a perfect knowledge of the nature of the tendons and muscles, and of those parts which contain the most of them, will know to a certainty, in giving a particular motion to any part of the body, which, and how many of the muscles give rise and contribute to it; which of them, by swelling, occasion their shortening, and which of the cartilages they surround.

He will not imitate those who, in all the different attitudes they adopt, or invent, make use of the same muscles, in the arms, back, or chest, or any other parts.

The non-existence of motion in any animal resting on its feet, is owing to the equality of weight distributed on each side of the line of gravity.

Motion is created by the loss of due equipoise, that is, by inequality of weight; for nothing can move of itself, without losing its centre of gravity, and the farther that is removed, the quicker and stronger will be the motion.

[Pg 27]

The balance or equipoise of parts in the human body is of two sorts, viz. simple, and complex. Simple, when a man stands upon his feet without motion: in that situation, if he extends his arms at different distances from the middle, or stoop, the centre of his weight will always be in a perpendicular line upon the centre of that foot which supports the body; and if he rests equally upon both feet, then the middle of the chest will be perpendicular to the middle of the line which measures the space between the centres of his feet.

The complex balance is, when a man carries a weight not his own, which he bears by different motions; as in the figure of Hercules stifling Anteus, by pressing him against his breast with his arms, after he has lifted him from the ground. He must have as much of his own weight thrown behind the central line of his feet, as the weight of Anteus adds before.

The pit of the neck, between the two Clavicles, falls perpendicularly with the foot which bears the weight of the body. If one of the arms be thrown forwards, this pit will quit that perpendicular; and if one of the legs goes back, that pit is brought forwards, [Pg 28] and so changes its situation at every change of posture.

A figure standing upon its feet without motion, will form an equipoise of all its members round the centre of its support.

If this figure without motion, and resting upon its feet, happens to move one of its arms forwards, it must necessarily throw as much of its weight on the opposite side, as is equal to that of the extended arm and the accidental weight. And the same I say of every part, which is brought out beyond its usual balance.

A weight can never be lifted up or carried by any man, if he do not throw more than an equal weight of his own on the opposite side.

The weight of a man resting upon one leg will always be equally divided on each side of the central or perpendicular line of gravity, which supports him.

A man walking will always have the centre of gravity over the centre of the leg which rests upon the ground.

[Pg 29]

The legs, or centre of support, in men and animals, will approach nearer to the centre of gravity, in proportion to the slowness of their motion; and, on the contrary, when the motion is quicker, they will be farther removed from that perpendicular line.

The thickness or breadth of the parts in the human body will never be equal on each side, if the corresponding members do not move equally and alike.

All bipeds in their motions lower the part immediately over the foot that is raised, more than over that resting on the ground, and the highest parts do just the contrary. This is observable in the hips and shoulders of a man when he walks; and also in birds in the head and rump.

The highest parts of quadrupeds are susceptible of more variation when they walk, than when they are still, in a greater or less degree, in proportion to their size. This proceeds from the oblique position of their legs when they touch the ground, which [Pg 30] raise the animal when they become straight and perpendicular upon the ground.

The motion performed by a man, or any other animal whatever, in walking, will have more or less velocity as the centre of their weight is more or less removed from the centre of that foot upon which they are supported.

That figure will appear the swiftest in its course which leans the most forwards.

Any body, moving of itself, will do it with more or less velocity in proportion as the centre of its gravity is more or less removed from the centre of its support. This is mentioned chiefly in regard to the motion of birds, which, without any clapping of their wings, or assistance of wind, move themselves. This happens when the centre of their gravity is out of the centre of their support, viz. out of its usual residence, the middle between the two wings. Because, if the middle of the wings be more backward than the centre of the whole weight, the bird will move forwards and downwards, in a greater or less degree as the centre of its weight is more or less removed from the middle of its wings. From which it follows, that if the centre of gravity be far removed from the other centre, the descent of the bird will be very oblique; but if that centre be near the middle of the wings, the descent will have very little obliquity.

[Pg 31]

A man moving against the wind in any direction does not keep his centre of gravity duly disposed upon the centre of support[18].

The man who rests upon his feet, either bears the weight of his body upon them equally, or unequally. If equally, it will be with some accidental weight, or simply with his own; if it be with an additional weight, the opposite extremities of his members will not be equally distant from the perpendicular of his feet. But if he simply carries his own weight, the opposite extremities will be equally distant from the perpendicular of his feet: and on this subject of gravity I shall write a separate book [19].

The navel is always in the central or middle line of the body, which passes through the pit of the stomach to that of the neck, and must have as much weight, either accidental or natural, on one side of the human figure as on the other. This is demonstrated by extending the arm, the wrist of which performs[Pg 32] the office of a weight at the end of a steelyard; and will require some weight to be thrown on the other side of the navel, to counterbalance that of the wrist. It is on that account that the heel is often raised.

After a man, by standing long, has tired the leg upon which he rests, he sends part of his weight upon the other leg. But this kind of posture is to be employed only for old age, infancy, or extreme lassitude, because it expresses weariness, or very little power in the limbs. For that reason, a young man, strong and healthy, will always rest upon one of his legs, and if he removes a little of his weight upon the other, it is only a necessary preparative to motion, without which it is impossible to move; as we have proved before, that motion proceeds from inequality[20].

If the figure rests upon one foot, the shoulder on that side will always be lower than the other; and the pit of the neck will fall perpendicularly over the middle of that leg which supports the body. The same will happen in whatever other view we see that figure, when it has not the arm much extended, nor any weight on its back, in its hand, or on its shoulder, and when it does not, either behind or before, throw out that leg which does not support the body.

[Pg 33]

The extending of the arm, which was bent, removes the weight of the figure upon the foot which bears the weight of the whole body: as is observable in rope-dancers, who dance upon the rope with their arms open, without any pole.

The shoulder which bears the weight is always higher than the other. This is seen in the figure opposite, in which the centre line passes through the whole, with an equal weight on each side, to the leg on which it rests. If the weight were not equally divided on each side of this central line of gravity, the whole would fall to the ground. But Nature has provided, that as much of the natural weight of the man should be thrown on one side, as of accidental weight on the other, to form a counterpoise. This is effected by the man’s bending, and leaning on the side not loaded, so as to form an equilibrium to the accidental weight he carries; and this cannot be done, unless the loaded shoulder be raised, and the other lowered. This is the resource with which Nature has furnished a man on such occasions.

[Pg 34]

Any figure bearing an additional weight out of the central line, must throw as much natural or accidental weight on the opposite side as is sufficient to form a counterpoise round that line, which passes from the pit of the neck, through the whole mass of weight, to that part of the foot which rests upon the ground. We observe, that when a man lifts a weight with one arm, he naturally throws out the opposite arm; and if that be not enough to form an equipoise, he will add as much of his own weight, by bending his body, as will enable him to resist such accidental load. We see also, that a man ready to fall sideways and backwards at the same time, always throws out the arm on the opposite side.

Whether a man moves with velocity or slowness, the parts above the leg which sustains the weight, will always be lower than the others on the opposite side.

The shoulders or sides of a man, or any other animal, will preserve less of their level, in proportion to the slowness of their motion; and, vice versâ, those parts will lose less of their level when the motion is quicker. This is proved by the ninth proposition, treating of local motions, where it is said, any weight will press in the direction of the line of its motion; therefore the whole moving towards any one point, the parts belonging to it will follow the shortest line of the motion of its whole, without giving any of its weight to the collateral parts of the whole.

[Pg 35]

It has been objected, in regard to the first part of the above proposition, that it does not follow that a man standing still, or moving slowly, has his members always in perfect balance upon the centre of gravity; because we do not find that Nature always follows that rule, but, on the contrary, the figure will sometimes bend sideways, standing upon one foot; sometimes it will rest part of its weight upon that leg which is bent at the knee, as is seen in the figures B C. But I shall reply thus, that what is not performed by the shoulders in the figure C, is done by the hip, as is demonstrated in another place.

In the same proportion as that part of the naked figure marked D A, lessens in height from the shoulder to the hip, on account of its position the opposite side increases. And this is the reason: the figure resting upon one (suppose the left) foot, that foot becomes the centre of all the weight above; and the pit of the neck, formed by the junction of the two Clavicles, quits also its natural situation at the upper extremity[Pg 36] of the perpendicular line (which passes through the middle surface of the body), to bend over the same foot; and as this line bends with it, it forces the transverse lines, which are always at right angles, to lower their extremities on that side where the foot rests, as appears in A B C. The navel and middle parts always preserve their natural height.

In the bending of the joints it is particularly useful to observe the difference and variety of shape they assume; how the muscles swell on one side, while they flatten on the other; and this is more apparent in the neck, because the motion of it is of three sorts, two of which are simple motions, and the other complex, participating also of the other two.

The simple motions are, first, when the neck bends towards the shoulder, either to the right or left, and when it raises or lowers the head. The second is, when it twists to the right or left, without rising or bending, but straight, with the head turned towards one of the shoulders. The third motion, which is called complex, is, when to the bending of it is added the twisting, as when the ear leans towards one of the shoulders, the head turning the same way, and the face turned upwards.

Of those which the shoulders can perform, simple motions are the principal, such as moving the arm upwards and downwards, backwards and forwards. Though one might almost call those motions infinite, for if the arm can trace a circle upon a wall, it will have performed all the motions belonging to the shoulders. Every continued quantity being divisible ad infinitum, and this circle being a continued quantity, produced by the motion of the arm going through every part of the circumference, it follows, that the motions of the shoulders may also be said to be infinite.

[Pg 37]

When you mean to represent a man removing a weight, consider that the motions are various, viz. either a simple motion, by bending himself to raise the weight from the ground upwards, or when he drags the weight after him, or pushes it before him, or pulls it down with a rope passing through a pulley. It is to be observed, that the weight of the man’s body pulls the more in proportion as the centre of his gravity is removed from the centre of his support. To this must be added the strength of the effort that the legs and back make when they are bent, to return to their natural straight situation.

A man never ascends or descends, nor walks at all in any direction, without raising the heel of the back foot.

When a man prepares himself to strike a violent blow, he bends and twists his body as far as he can[Pg 38] to the side contrary to that which he means to strike, and collecting all his strength, he, by a complex motion, returns and falls upon the point he has in view[21].

A man throwing a dart, a stone, or any thing else with violence, may be represented, chiefly, two different ways; that is, he may be preparing to do it, or the act may be already performed. If you mean to place him in the act of preparation, the inside of the foot upon which he rests will be under the perpendicular line of the pit of the neck; and if it be the right foot, the left shoulder will be perpendicular over the toes of the same foot.

He who wishes to pitch a pole into the ground, or draw one out of it, will raise the leg and bend the knee opposite to the arm which acts, in order to balance himself upon the foot that rests, without which he could neither drive in, nor pull out any thing.

Of the two arms, that will be most powerful in its effort, which, having been farthest removed from its natural situation, is assisted more strongly by the other parts to bring it to the place where it means to go. As the man A, who moves the arm with a club E, and brings it to the opposite side B, assisted by the motion of the whole body.

[Pg 39]

Nature will of itself, and without any reasoning in the mind of a man going to jump, prompt him to raise his arms and shoulders by a sudden motion, together with a great part of his body, and to lift them up high, till the power of the effort subsides. This impetuous motion is accompanied by an instantaneous extension of the body which had bent itself, like a spring or bow, along the back, the joints of the thighs, knees, and feet, and is let off obliquely, that is, upwards and forwards; so that the disposition of the body tending forwards and upwards, makes it describe a great arch when it springs up, which increases the leap.

When a man jumps upwards, the motion of the head is three times quicker than that of the heel, before the extremity of the foot quits the ground, and twice as quick as that of the hips; because three angles are opened and extended at the same time: the superior one is that formed by the body at its joint with the thigh before, the second is at the joint of[Pg 40] the thighs and legs behind, and the third is at the instep before[22].

In regard to the freedom and ease of motions, it is very necessary to observe, that when you mean to represent a figure which has to turn itself a little round, the feet and all the other members are not to move in the same direction as the head. But you will divide that motion among four joints, viz. the feet, the knees, the hips, and the neck. If it rests upon the right leg, the left knee should be a little bent inward, with its foot somewhat raised outward. The left shoulder should be lower than the other, and the nape of the neck turned on the same side as the outward ankle of the left foot, and the left shoulder perpendicular over the great toe of the right foot. And take it as a general maxim, that figures do not turn their heads straight with the chest, Nature having for our convenience formed the neck so as to turn with ease on every side, when the eyes want to look round; and to this the other joints are in some measure subservient. If the figure be sitting, and the arms have some employment across the body, the breast will turn over the joint of the hip.

[Pg 41]

The greatest twist that the body can perform is when the back of the heels and the front of the face are seen at the same time. It is not done without difficulty, and is effected by bending the leg and lowering the shoulder on that side towards which the head turns. The cause of this motion, and also which of the muscles move first and which last, I shall explain in my treatise on anatomy [23].

It is impossible to turn the leg inwards or outwards without turning the thigh by the same motion, because the setting in of the bones at the knee is such, that they have no motion but backwards and forwards, and no more than is necessary for walking or kneeling; never sideways, because the form of the bones at the joint of the knee does not allow it.[Pg 42] If this joint had been made pliable on all sides, as that of the shoulder, or that of the thigh bone with the hip, a man would have had his legs bent on each side as often as backwards and forwards, and seldom or never straight with the thigh. Besides, this joint can bend only one way, so that in walking it can never go beyond the straight line of the leg; it bends only forwards, for if it could bend backwards, a man could never get up again upon his feet, if once he were kneeling; as when he means to get up from the kneeling posture (on both knees), he gives the whole weight of his body to one of the knees to support, unloading the other, which at that time feels no other weight than its own, and therefore is lifted up with ease, and rests his foot flat upon the ground; then returning the whole weight upon that foot, and leaning his hand upon his knee, he at once extends the other arm, raises his head, and straightening the thigh with the body, he springs up, and rests upon the same foot, while he brings up the other.

Figures that are set in a fixed attitude, are nevertheless to have some contrast of parts. If one arm come before, the other remains still or goes behind. If the figure rest upon one leg, the shoulder on that side will be lower than the other. This is observed by artists of judgment, who always take care to balance the figure well upon its feet, for fear it should[Pg 43] appear to fall. Because by resting upon one foot, the other leg, being a little bent, does not support the body any more than if it were dead; therefore it is necessary that the parts above that leg should transfer the centre of their weight upon the leg which supports the body.

The members are to be suited to the body in graceful motions, expressive of the meaning which the figure is intended to convey. If it had to give the idea of genteel and agreeable carriage, the members must be slender and well turned, but not lean; the muscles very slightly marked, indicating in a soft manner such as must necessarily appear; the arms, particularly, pliant, and no member in a straight line with any other adjoining member. If it happen, on account of the motion of the figure, that the right hip be higher than the left, make the joint of the shoulder fall perpendicularly on the highest part of that hip; and let that right shoulder be lower than the left. The pit of the neck will always be perpendicular over the middle of the instep of the foot that supports the body. The leg that does not bear will have its knee a little lower than the other, and near the other leg.

In regard to the positions of the head and arms, they are infinite, and for that reason I shall not enter into any detailed rule concerning them; suffice it to say, that they are to be easy and free, graceful, and[Pg 44] varied in their bendings, so that they may not appear stiff like pieces of wood.

It is impossible that any memory can be able to retain all the aspects or motions of any member of any animal whatever. This case we shall exemplify by the appearance of the hand. And because any continued quantity is divisible ad infinitum, the motion of the eye which looks at the hand, and moves from A to B, moves by a space A B, which is also a continued quantity, and consequently divisible ad infinitum, and in every part of the motion varies to its view the aspect and figure of the hand; and so it will do if it move round the whole circle. The same will the hand do which is raised in its motion, that is, it will pass over a space, which is a continued quantity[24].

[Pg 45]

Never put the head straight upon the shoulders, but a little turned sideways to the right or left, even though the figures should be looking up or down, or straight, because it is necessary to give them some motion of life and spirit. Nor ever compose a figure in such a manner, either in a front or back view, as that every part falls straight upon another from the top to the bottom. But if you wish to introduce such a figure, use it for old age. Never repeat the same motion of arms, or of legs, not only not in the same figure, but in those which are standing by, or near; if the necessity of the case, or the expression of the subject you represent, do not oblige you to it [25].

The variety of motions in man are equal to the variety of accidents or thoughts affecting the mind, and each of these thoughts, or accidents, will operate more or less, according to the temper and age of the subject; for the same cause will in the actions of youth, or of old age, produce very different effects.

[Pg 46]

Simple motion is that which a man performs in merely bending backwards or forwards.

Complex motion is that which, to produce some particular action, requires the body to bend downwards and sideways at the same time. The painter must be careful in his compositions to apply these complex motions according to the nature of the subject, and not to weaken or destroy the effect of it by introducing figures with simple motions, without any connexion with the subject.

The motions of your figures are to be expressive of the quantity of strength requisite to the force of the action. Let not the same effort be used to take up a stick as would easily raise a piece of timber. Therefore shew great variety in the expression of strength, according to the quality of the load to be managed.

There are some emotions of the mind which are not expressed by any particular motion of the body, while in others, the expression cannot be shewn without it. In the first, the arms fall down, the hands and all the other parts, which in general are [Pg 47] the most active, remain at rest. But such emotions of the soul as produce bodily action, must put the members into such motions as are appropriated to the intention of the mind. This, however, is an ample subject, and we have a great deal to say upon it. There is a third kind of motion, which participates of the two already described; and a fourth, which depends neither on the one nor the other. This last belongs to insensibility, or fury, and should be ranked with madness or stupidity; and so adapted only to grotesque or Moresco work.

It is not becoming in women and young people to have their legs too much asunder, because it denotes boldness; while the legs close together shew modesty.

Children and old people are not to express quick motions, in what concerns their legs.

Let every member be employed in performing its proper functions. For instance, in a dead body, or one asleep, no member should appear alive or awake. A foot bearing the weight of the whole body, should not be playing its toes up and down, but flat upon the ground; except when it rests entirely upon the heel.

[Pg 48]

A mere thought, or operation of the mind, excites only simple and easy motions of the body; not this way, and that way, because its object is in the mind, which does not affect the senses when it is collected within itself.

When the motion is produced by the presence of some object, either the cause is immediate or not. If it be immediate, the figure will first turn towards it the organs most necessary, the eyes; leaving its feet in the same place; and will only move the thighs, hips, and knees a little towards the same side, to which the eyes are directed.

Those who become enamoured of the practice of the art, without having previously applied to the diligent study of the scientific part of it, may be compared to mariners, who put to sea in a ship [Pg 49] without rudder or compass, and therefore cannot be certain of arriving at the wished-for port.

Practice must always be founded on good theory; to this, Perspective is the guide and entrance, without which nothing can be well done.

Perspective is to Painting what the bridle is to a horse, and the rudder to a ship.

The size of a figure should denote the distance at which it is situated.

If a figure be seen of the natural size, remember that it denotes its being near to the eye.

The outlines or contours of bodies are so little perceivable, that at any small distance between that and the object, the eye will not be able to recognise the features of a friend or relation, if it were not for their clothes and general appearance. So that by the knowledge of the whole it comes to know the parts.

Linear Perspective consists in giving, by established rules, the true dimensions of objects, according to their respective distances; so that the second object be less than the first, the third than the second, and by degrees at last they become invisible. I find by experience, that, if the second object be at[Pg 50] the same distance from the first, as the first is from the eye, though they be of the same size, the second will appear half the size of the first; and, if the third be at the same distance behind the second, it will diminish two thirds; and so on, by degrees, they will, at equal distances, diminish in proportion; provided that the interval be not more than twenty cubits [26]; at which distance it will lose two fourths of its size: at forty it will diminish three fourths; and at sixty it will lose five sixths, and so on progressively. But you must be distant from your picture twice the size of it; for, if you be only once the size, it will make a great difference in the measure from the first to the second.

Those parts which are of less magnitude will first vanish from the sight[27]. This happens, because the shape of small objects, at an equal distance, comes to the eye under a more acute angle than the large ones, and the perception of them is less, in proportion as they are less in magnitude. It follows then, that if the large objects, by being removed to a great distance, and consequently coming to the eye by a small angle, are almost lost to the sight, the small objects will entirely disappear.

[Pg 51]

The outlines of objects will be less seen, in proportion as they are more distant from the eye.

The point of sight must be on a level with the eyes of a common-sized man, and placed upon the horizon, which is the line formed by a flat country terminating with the sky. An exception must be made as to mountains, which are above that line.

This will be proved by one single example. If you mean to represent a round ball very high up, on a flat and perpendicular wall, it will be necessary to make it oblong, like the shape of an egg, and to place yourself (that is, the eye, or point of view) so far back, as that its outline or circumference may appear round.

The first figure in your picture will be less than Nature, in proportion as it recedes from the front of the picture, or the bottom line; and by the same rule the others behind it will go on lessening in an equal degree[28].

[Pg 52]

The first things that disappear, by being removed to some distance, are the outlines or boundaries of objects. The second, as they remove farther, are the shadows which divide contiguous bodies. The third are the thickness of legs and feet; and so in succession the small parts are lost to the sight, till nothing remains but a confused mass, without any distinct parts.

Supposing this small object to represent a man, or any other animal, although the parts, by being so much diminished or reduced, cannot be executed with the same exactness of proportion, nor finished with the same accuracy, as if on a larger scale, yet on that very account the faults will be less conspicuous. For example, if you look at a man at the distance of two hundred yards, and with all due attention mean to form a judgment, whether he be handsome or ugly, deformed or well made, you will find that, with all your endeavours, you can hardly venture to decide. The reason is, that the man diminishes so much by the distance, that it is impossible[Pg 53] to distinguish the parts minutely. If you wish to know by demonstration the diminution of the above figure, hold your finger up before your eye at about nine inches distance, so that the top of your finger corresponds with the top of the head of the distant figure: you will perceive that your finger covers, not only its head, but part of its body; which is an evident proof of the apparent diminution of that object. Hence it often happens, that we are doubtful, and can scarcely, at some distance, distinguish the form of even a friend.

This custom, which has been generally adopted by painters, on the front and sides of chapels, is much to be condemned. They begin with an historical picture, its landscape and buildings, in one compartment. After which, they raise another compartment, and execute another history with other buildings upon another level; and from thence they proceed to a third and fourth, varying the point of sight, as if the beholder was going up steps, while, in fact, he must look at them all from below, which is very ill judged in those matters.

We know that the point of sight is the eye of the spectator; and if you ask, how is a series of subjects, such as the life of a saint, to be represented, in different compartments on the same wall? I answer, that you are to place the principal event in the largest compartment, and make the point of[Pg 54] sight as high as the eye of the spectator. Begin that subject with large figures; and as you go up, lessen the objects, as well the figures, as buildings, varying the plans according to the effect of perspective; but never varying the point of sight: and so complete the series of subjects, till you come to a certain height, where terrestrial objects can be seen no more, except the tops of trees, or clouds and birds; or if you introduce figures, they must be aerial, such as angels, or saints in glory, or the like, if they suit the purpose of your history. If not, do not undertake this kind of painting, for your work will be faulty, and justly reprehensible[29].

Painters often despair of being able to imitate Nature, from observing, that their pictures have not the same relief, nor the same life, as natural objects have in a looking-glass, though they both appear upon a plain surface. They say, they have colours which surpass in brightness the quality of the lights,[Pg 55] and in darkness the quality of the shades of the objects seen in the looking-glass; but attribute this circumstance to their own ignorance, and not to the true cause, because they do not know it. It is impossible that objects in painting should appear with the same relief as those in the looking-glass, unless we look at them with only one eye.

The reason is this. The two eyes A B looking at objects one behind another, as M and N, see them both; because M cannot entirely occupy the space of N, by reason that the base of the visual rays is so broad, that the second object is seen behind the first. But if one eye be shut, and you look with the other S, the body F will entirely cover the body R, because the visual rays beginning at one point, form a triangle, of which the body F is the base, and being prolonged, they form two diverging tangents at the two extremities of F, which cannot touch the body R behind it, therefore can never see it [30].

[Pg 56]

[Pg 57]

In order to give the appearance of the natural size, if the piece be small (as miniatures), the figures on the fore-ground are to be finished with as much precision as those of any large painting, because being small they are to be brought up close to the eye. But large paintings are seen at some distance; whence it happens, that though the figures in each are so different in size, in appearance they will be the same. This proceeds from the eye receiving those objects under the same angle; and it is proved thus. Let the large painting be B C, the eye A, and D E a pane of glass, through which are seen the figures situated at B C. I say that the eye being fixed, the figures in the copy of the paintings B C are to be smaller, in proportion as the glass D E is nearer the eye A, and are to be as precise and finished. But if you will execute the picture B C upon the glass D E, this ought to be less finished than the picture B C, and more so than the figure M N transferred upon the glass F G; because, supposing the figure P O to be as much finished as the natural one in B C, the perspective of O P would be false, since, though in regard to the diminution of the figure it would be right, B C being diminished in P O, the finishing would not[Pg 58] agree with the distance, because in giving it the perfection of the natural B C, B C would appear as near as O P; but, if you search for the diminution of O P, O P will be found at the distance B C, and the diminution of the finishing as at F G.

Take a glass as large as your paper, fasten it well between your eye and the object you mean to draw, and fixing your head in a frame (in such a manner as not to be able to move it) at the distance of two feet from the glass; shut one eye, and draw with a pencil accurately upon the glass all that you see through it. After that, trace upon paper what you have drawn on the glass, which tracing you may paint at pleasure, observing the aerial perspective.

A great fault is committed by many painters, which is highly to be blamed, that is, to represent the habitations of men, and other parts of their compositions, so low, that the doors do not reach as high as the knees of their inhabitants, though, according to their situation, they are nearer to the eye of the spectator, than the men who seem willing to[Pg 59] enter them. I have seen some pictures with porticos, supported by columns loaded with figures; one grasping a column against which it leans, as if it were a walking-stick, and other similar errors, which are to be avoided with the greatest care.

[Pg 60]

The painter ought to form his style upon the most proportionate model in Nature; and after having measured that, he ought to measure himself also, and be perfectly acquainted with his own defects or deficiencies; and having acquired this knowledge, his constant care should be to avoid conveying into his work those defects which he has found in his own person; for these defects, becoming habitual to his observation, mislead his judgment, and he perceives them no longer. We ought, therefore, to struggle against such a prejudice, which grows up with us; for the mind, being fond of its own habitation, is apt to represent it to our imagination as beautiful. From the same motive it may be, that there is not a woman, however plain in her person, who may not find her admirer, if she be not a monster. Against this bent of the mind you ought very cautiously to be on your guard.

A painter ought to aim at universal excellence; for he will be greatly wanting in dignity, if he do[Pg 61] one thing well and another badly, as many do, who study only the naked figure, measured and proportioned by a pair of compasses in their hands, and do not seek for variety. A man may be well proportioned, and yet be tall or short, large or lean, or of a middle size; and whoever does not make great use of these varieties, which are all existing in Nature in its most perfect state, will produce figures as if cast in one and the same mould, which is highly reprehensible.

The painter ought always to form in his mind a kind of system of reasoning or discussion within himself on any remarkable object before him. He should stop, take notes, and form some rule upon it; considering the place, the circumstances, the lights and shadows.

Sketches of historical subjects must be slight, attending only to the situation of the figures, without regard to the finishing of particular members, which may be done afterwards at leisure, when the mind is so disposed.

The young student should begin by sketching slightly some single figure, and turn that on all sides, knowing already how to contract, and how to extend[Pg 62] the members; after which, he may put two together in various attitudes, we will suppose in the act of fighting boldly. This composition also he must try on all sides, and in a variety of ways, tending to the same expression. Then he may imagine one of them very courageous, while the other is a coward. Let these attitudes, and many other accidental affections of the mind, be with great care studied, examined, and dwelt upon.

The attitudes and all the members are to be disposed in such a manner, that by them the intentions of the mind may be easily discovered.

The positions of the human figure are to be adapted to the age and rank; and to be varied according to the difference of the sexes, men or women.

It is necessary to consider well the situation for which the history is to be painted, particularly the height; and let the painter place accordingly the model, from which he means to make his studies for that historical picture; and set himself as much below the object, as the picture is to be above the eye of the spectator, otherwise the work will be faulty.

[Pg 63]

History painting must exhibit variety in its fullest extent. In temper, size, complexion, actions, plumpness, leanness, thick, thin, large, small, rough, smooth, old age and youth, strong and muscular, weak, with little appearance of muscles, cheerfulness and melancholy. Some should be with curled hair, and some with straight; some short, some long, some quick in their motions, and some slow, with a variety of dresses and colours, according as the subject may require.

A painter should delight in introducing great variety into his compositions, avoiding repetition, that by this fertility of invention he may attract and charm the eye of the beholder. If it be requisite according to the subject meant to be represented, that there should be a mixture of men differing in their faces, ages, and dress, grouped with women, children, dogs, and horses, buildings, hills and flat country; observe dignity and decorum in the principal figure; such as a king, magistrate, or philosopher, separating them from the low classes of the people. Mix not afflicted or weeping figures with joyful and laughing ones; for Nature dictates that the cheerful be attended by others of the same disposition of mind. Laughter is productive of laughter, and vice versâ.

[Pg 64]

Do not bring together a number of boys with as many old men, nor young men with infants, nor women with men; if the subject you mean to represent does not oblige you to it.

The Italian painters have been accused of a common fault, that is, of introducing into their compositions the faces, and even the whole figures, of Roman emperors, which they take from the antique. To avoid such an error, let no repetition take place, either in parts, or the whole of a figure; nor let there be even the same face in another composition: and the more the figures are contrasted, viz. the deformed opposed to the beautiful, the old to the young, the strong to the feeble, the more the picture will please and be admired. These different characters, contrasted with each other, will increase the beauty of the whole.

It frequently happens that a painter, while he is composing, will use any little sketch or scrap of drawing he has by him, and endeavour to make it serve his purpose; but this is extremely injudicious, because he may very often find that the members he has drawn have not the motion suited to what he means to express; and after he has adopted, accurately drawn, and even well finished them, he will be loth to rub out and change them for others.

[Pg 65]

It is a very great fault in a painter to repeat the same motions in figures, and the same folds in draperies in the same composition, as also to make all the faces alike.

When you are well instructed in perspective, and know perfectly how to draw the anatomy and forms of different bodies or objects, it should be your delight to observe and consider in your walks the different actions of men, when they are talking, or quarrelling; when they laugh, and when they fight. Attend to their positions, and to those of the spectators; whether they are attempting to separate those who fight, or merely lookers-on. Be quick in sketching these with slight strokes in your pocket-book, which should always be about you, and made of stained paper, as you ought not to rub out. When it is full, take another, for these are not things to be rubbed out, but kept with the greatest care; because forms and motions of bodies are so infinitely various, that the memory is not able to retain them; therefore preserve these sketches as your assistants and masters.

[Pg 66]

The first requisite towards a perfect acquaintance with the various motions of the human body, is the knowledge of all the parts, particularly the joints, in all the attitudes in which it may be placed. Then make slight sketches in your pocket-book, as opportunities occur, of the actions of men, as they happen to meet your eye, without being perceived by them; because, if they were to observe you, they would be disturbed from that freedom of action, which is prompted by inward feeling; as when two men are quarrelling and angry, each of them seeming to be in the right, and with great vehemence move their eyebrows, arms, and all the other members, using motions appropriated to their words and feelings. This they could not do, if you wanted them to imitate anger, or any other accidental emotion; such as laughter, weeping, pain, admiration, fear, and the like. For that reason, take care never to be without a little book, for the purpose of sketching those various motions, and also groups of people standing by. This will teach you how to compose history. Two things demand the principal attention of a good painter. One is the exact outline and shape of the figure; the other, the true expression of what passes in the mind of that figure, which he must feel, and that is very important.

[Pg 67]

The draperies with which you dress figures ought to have their folds so accommodated as to surround the parts they are intended to cover; that in the mass of light there be not any dark fold, and in the mass of shadows none receiving too great a light. They must go gently over, describing the parts; but not with lines across, cutting the members with hard notches, deeper than the part can possibly be; at the same time, it must fit the body, and not appear like an empty bundle of cloth; a fault of many painters, who, enamoured of the quantity and variety of folds, have encumbered their figures, forgetting the intention of clothes, which is to dress and surround the parts gracefully wherever they touch; and not to be filled with wind, like bladders, puffed up where the parts project. I do not deny that we ought not to neglect introducing some handsome folds among these draperies, but it must be done with great judgment, and suited to the parts, where, by the actions of the limbs and position of the whole body, they gather together. Above all, be careful to vary the quality and quantity of your folds in compositions of many figures; so that, if some have large folds, produced by thick woollen cloth; others, being dressed in thinner stuff, may have them narrower; some sharp and straight, others soft and undulating.

[Pg 68]

Many painters prefer making the folds of their draperies with acute angles, deep and precise; others with angles hardly perceptible; and some with none at all; but instead of them, certain curved lines.

That part of the drapery, which is the farthest from the place where it is gathered, will appear more approaching its natural state. Every thing naturally inclines to preserve its primitive form. Therefore a stuff or cloth, which is of equal thickness on both sides, will always incline to remain flat. For that reason, when it is constrained by some fold to relinquish its flat situation, it is observed that, at the part of its greatest restraint, it is continually making efforts to return to its natural shape; and the parts most distant from it reassume more of their primitive state by ample and distended folds. For example, let A B C be the drapery mentioned above; A B the place where it is folded or restrained. I have said that the part, which is farthest from the place of its restraint, would return more towards its primitive shape. Therefore C being the farthest, will be broader and more extended than any other part.

[Pg 69]

Draperies are not to be encumbered with many folds: on the contrary, there ought to be some only where they are held up with the hands or arms of the figures, and the rest left to fall with natural simplicity. They ought to be studied from Nature; that is to say, if a woollen cloth be intended, the folds ought to be drawn after such cloth; if it be of silk, or thin stuff, or else very thick for labourers, let it be distinguished by the nature of the folds. But never copy them, as some do, after models dressed in paper, or thin leather, for it greatly misleads.

Where the figure is fore-shortened, there ought to appear a greater number of folds, than on the other parts, all surrounding it in a circular manner. Let E be the situation of the eye. M N will have the middle of every circular fold successively removed farther from its outline, in proportion as it is more distant from the eye. In M O of the other figure the outlines of these circular folds will appear almost straight, because it is situated opposite the eye; but in P and Q quite the contrary, as in N and M.

The folds of draperies, whatever be the motion of the figure, ought always to shew, by the form[Pg 70] of their outlines, the attitude of such figure; so as to leave, in the mind of the beholder, no doubt or confusion in regard to the true position of the body; and let there be no fold, which, by its shadow, breaks through any of the members; that is to say, appearing to go in deeper than the surface of the part it covers. And if you represent the figure clothed with several garments, one over the other, let it not appear as if the upper one covered only a mere skeleton; but let it express that it is also well furnished with flesh, and a thickness of folds, suitable to the number of its under garments.

The folds surrounding the members ought to diminish in thickness near the extremities of the part they surround.

The length of the folds, which are close to the members, ought to produce other folds on that side where the member is diminished by fore-shortening, and be more extended on the opposite side.

Observe decorum in every thing you represent, that is, fitness of action, dress, and situation, according to the dignity or meanness of the subject to be represented. Be careful that a king, for instance, be grave and majestic in his countenance and dress; that the place be well decorated; and that his attendants, or the by-standers, express reverence and admiration, and appear as noble, in dresses suitable to a royal court.

On the contrary, in the representation of a mean [Pg 71] subject, let the figures appear low and despicable; those about them with similar countenances, and actions, denoting base and presumptuous minds, and meanly clad. In short, in both cases, the parts must correspond with the general sentiment of the composition.

The motions of old age should not be similar to those of youth; those of a woman to those of a man; nor should the latter be the same as those of a boy.

In general, the painter ought to introduce very few old men, in the ordinary course of historical subjects, and those few separated from young people; because old people are few, and their habits do not agree with those of youth. Where there is no conformity of custom, there can be no intimacy, and, without it, a company is soon separated. But if the subject require an appearance of gravity, a meeting on important business, as a council, for instance, let there be few young men introduced, for youth willingly avoids such meetings.

A figure, which does not express by its position the sentiments and passions, by which we suppose it animated, will appear to indicate that its muscles are not obedient to its will, and the painter very deficient in judgment. For that reason, a figure is [Pg 72] to shew great eagerness and meaning; and its position is to be so well appropriated to that meaning, that it cannot be mistaken, nor made use of for any other.

The painter ought to notice those quick motions, which men are apt to make without thinking, when impelled by strong and powerful affections of the mind. He ought to take memorandums of them, and sketch them in his pocket-book, in order to make use of them when they may answer his purpose; and then to put a living model in the same position, to see the quality and aspect of the muscles which are in action.

The first and principal part of the art is composition of any sort, or putting things together. The second relates to the expression and motion of the figures, and requires that they be well appropriated, and seeming attentive to what they are about; appearing to move with alacrity and spirit, according to the degree of expression suitable to the occasion; expressing slow and tardy motions, as well as those of eagerness in pursuit: and that quickness and ferocity be expressed with such force as to give an idea of the sensations of the actors. When a figure is to throw a dart, stones, or the like, let it be seen evidently by the attitude and disposition of all the members, that such is its intention; of which there are two examples in the opposite plates, varied both in action and power. The first in point of vigour is A. The second is B. But A will throw his weapon farther than B, because, though they seem desirous of throwing it to the same point, A having turned his feet towards the object, while his body is twisted and bent back the contrary way, to increase his power, returns with more velocity and force to the point to which he means to throw. But the figure B having turned his feet the same way as his body, it returns to its place with great inconvenience, and consequently with weakened powers. For in the expression of great efforts, the preparatory motions of the body must be strong and violent, twisting and bending, so that it may return with convenient ease, and by that means have a great effect. In the same manner, if a cross-bow be not strung with force, the motion of whatever it shoots will be short and without effect; because, where there is no impulse, there can be no motion; and if the impulse be not violent, the motion is but tardy and feeble. So a bow, which is not strong, has no motion; and, if it be strung, it will remain in that state till the impulse be given by another power which puts it in motion, and it will shoot with a violence equal to that which was employed in bending it. In the same manner, the man who does not twist and bend his body will have acquired no power. Therefore, after A has thrown his dart, he will find himself twisted the contrary way, viz. on the side where he has thrown; and he will have acquired only power sufficient to serve him to return to where he was at first.

[Pg 73]

The same attitude is not to be repeated in the same picture, nor the same motion of members in the same figure, nay, not even in the hands or fingers. And if the history requires a great number of figures, such as a battle, or a massacre of soldiers, in which there are but three ways of striking, viz. thrusting, cutting, or back-handed; in that case you must take care, that all those who are cutting be expressed in different views; some turning their backs, some their sides, and others be seen in front; varying in the same manner the three different ways of fighting, so that all the actions may have a relation to those three principles. In battles, complex motions display great art, giving spirit and animation to the whole. By complex motion is meant, for instance, that of a single figure shewing the front of the legs, and at the same time the profile of the shoulder. But of this I shall treat in another place[31].

The same motion of members should not be repeated in a figure which you mean to be alone; for instance, if the figure be represented running, it must not throw both hands forward; but one forward and the other backward, or else it cannot run. If the right foot come forward, the right arm must[Pg 75] go backward and the left forward, because, without such disposition and contraste of parts, it is impossible to run well. If another figure be supposed to follow this, one of its legs should be brought somewhat forward, and the other be perpendicular under the head; the arm on the same side should pass forward. But of this we shall treat more fully in the book on motion [32].

A painter is to be attentive to the motions and actions of men, occasioned by some sudden accident. He must observe them on the spot, take sketches, and not wait till he wants such expression, and then have it counterfeited for him; for instance, setting a model to weep when there is no cause; such an expression without a cause will be neither quick nor natural. But it will be of great use to have observed every action from nature, as it occurs, and then to have a model set in the same attitude to help the recollection, and find out something to the purpose, according to the subject in hand.

To form a just idea of a storm, you must consider it attentively in its effects. When the wind blows violently over the sea or land, it removes and carries off with it every thing that is not firmly fixed to the general mass. The clouds must appear straggling[Pg 76] and broken, carried according to the direction and the force of the wind, and blended with clouds of dust raised from the sandy shore. Branches and leaves of trees must be represented as carried along by the violence of the storm, and, together with numberless other light substances, scattered in the air. Trees and grass must be bent to the ground, as if yielding to the course of the wind. Boughs must be twisted out of their natural form, with their leaves reversed and entangled. Of the figures dispersed in the picture, some should appear thrown on the ground, so wrapped up in their cloaks and covered with dust, as to be scarcely distinguishable. Of those who remain on their feet, some should be sheltered by and holding fast behind some great trees, to avoid the same fate: others bending to the ground, their hands over their faces to ward off the dust; their hair and their clothes flying straight up at the mercy of the wind.

The high tremendous waves of the stormy sea will be covered with foaming froth; the most subtle parts of which, being raised by the wind, like a thick mist, mix with the air. What vessels are seen should appear with broken cordage, and torn sails, fluttering in the wind; some with broken masts fallen across the hulk, already on its side amidst the tempestuous waves. Some of the crew should be represented as if crying aloud for help, and clinging to the remains of the shattered vessel. Let the clouds appear as driven by tempestuous winds against the summits of lofty mountains, enveloping those[Pg 77] mountains, and breaking and recoiling with redoubled force, like waves against a rocky shore. The air should be rendered awfully dark, by the mist, dust, and thick clouds.

First, let the air exhibit a confused mixture of smoke, arising from the discharge of artillery and musquetry, and the dust raised by the horses of the combatants; and observe, that dust being of an earthy nature, is heavy; but yet, by reason of its minute particles, it is easily impelled upwards, and mixes with the air; nevertheless, it naturally falls downwards again, the most subtle parts of it alone gaining any considerable degree of elevation, and at its utmost height it is so thin and transparent, as to appear nearly of the colour of the air. The smoke, thus mixing with the dusty air, forms a kind of dark cloud, at the top of which it is distinguished from the dust by a blueish cast, the dust retaining more of its natural colour. On that part from which the light proceeds, this mixture of air, smoke, and dust, will appear much brighter than on the opposite side. The more the combatants are involved in this turbulent mist, the less distinctly they will be seen, and the more confused will they be in their lights and shades. Let the faces of the musketeers, their bodies, and every object near them, be tinged with a reddish hue, even the air or cloud of dust; in short, all that surrounds them. This red tinge you will diminish, in proportion to their distance,[Pg 78] from the primary cause. The groups of figures, which appear at a distance between the spectator and the light, will form a dark mass upon a light ground; and their legs will be more undetermined and lost as they approach nearer to the ground; because there the dust is heavier and thicker.

If you mean to represent some straggling horses, running out of the main body, introduce also some small clouds of dust, as far distant from each other as the leap of the horse, and these little clouds will become fainter, more scanty, and diffused, in proportion to their distance from the horse. That nearest to his feet will consequently be the most determined, smallest, and the thickest of all.

Let the air be full of arrows, in all directions; some ascending, some falling down, and some darting straight forwards. The bullets of the musketry, though not seen, will be marked in their course by a train of smoke, which breaks through the general confusion. The figures in the fore-ground should have their hair covered with dust, as also their eyebrows, and all parts liable to receive it.

The victorious party will be running forwards, their hair and other light parts flying in the wind, their eyebrows lowered, and the motion of every member properly contrasted; for instance, in moving the right foot forwards, the left arm must be brought forwards also. If you make any of them fallen down, mark the trace of his fall on the slippery, gore-stained dust; and where the ground is less impregnated with blood, let the print of men’s feet[Pg 79] and of horses, that have passed that way, be marked. Let there be some horses dragging the bodies of their riders, and leaving behind them a furrow, made by the body thus trailed along.

The countenances of the vanquished will appear pale and dejected. Their eyebrows raised, and much wrinkled about the forehead and cheeks. The tip of their noses somewhat divided from the nostrils by arched wrinkles terminating at the corner of the eyes, those wrinkles being occasioned by the opening and raising of the nostrils; the upper lips turned up, discovering the teeth. Their mouths wide open, and expressive of violent lamentation. One may be seen fallen wounded on the ground, endeavouring with one hand to support his body, and covering his eyes with the other, the palm of which is turned towards the enemy. Others running away, and with open mouths seeming to cry aloud. Between the legs of the combatants let the ground be strewed with all sorts of arms; as broken shields, spears, swords, and the like. Many dead bodies should be introduced, some entirely covered with dust, others in part only; let the blood, which seems to issue immediately from the wound, appear of its natural colour, and running in a winding course, till, mixing with the dust, it forms a reddish kind of mud. Some should be in the agonies of death; their teeth shut, their eyes wildly staring, their fists clenched, and their legs in a distorted position. Some may appear disarmed, and beaten down by the enemy, still fighting with their fists and teeth, and endeavouring[Pg 80] to take a passionate, though unavailing revenge. There may be also a straggling horse without a rider, running in wild disorder; his mane flying in the wind, beating down with his feet all before him, and doing a deal of damage. A wounded soldier may also be seen falling to the ground, and attempting to cover himself with his shield, while an enemy bending over him endeavours to give him the finishing stroke. Several dead bodies should be heaped together under a dead horse. Some of the conquerors, as having ceased fighting, may be wiping their faces from the dirt, collected on them by the mixture of dust with the water from their eyes.

The corps de reserve will be seen advancing gaily, but cautiously, their eyebrows directed forwards, shading their eyes with their hands to observe the motions of the enemy, amidst clouds of dust and smoke, and seeming attentive to the orders of their chief. You may also make their commander holding up his staff, pushing forwards, and pointing towards the place where they are wanted. A river may likewise be introduced, with horses fording it, dashing the water about between their legs, and in the air, covering all the adjacent ground with water and foam. Not a spot is to be left without some marks of blood and carnage.

[Pg 81]

If you have to represent a man who is speaking to a large assembly of people, you are to consider the subject matter of his discourse, and to adapt his attitude to such subject. If he means to persuade, let it be known by his gesture. If he is giving an explanation, deduced from several reasons, let him put two fingers of the right hand within one of the left, having the other two bent close, his face turned towards the audience, with the mouth half open, seeming to speak. If he is sitting, let him appear as going to raise himself up a little, and his head be forward. But if he is represented standing, let him bend his chest and his head forward towards the people.

The auditory are to appear silent and attentive, with their eyes upon the speaker, in the act of admiration. There should be some old men, with their mouths close shut, in token of approbation, and their lips pressed together, so as to form wrinkles at the corners of the mouth, and about the cheeks, and forming others about the forehead, by raising the eyebrows, as if struck with astonishment. Some others of those sitting by, should be seated with their hands within each other, round one of their knees; some with one knee upon the other, and upon that, one hand receiving the elbow, the other supporting the chin, covered with a venerable beard.

[Pg 82]

The action by which a figure points at any thing near, either in regard to time or situation, is to be expressed by the hand very little removed from the body. But if the same thing is far distant, the hand must also be far removed from the body, and the face of the figure pointing, must be turned towards those to whom he is pointing it out.

All those who are present at some event deserving notice, express their admiration, but in various manners. As when the hand of justice punishes some malefactor. If the subject be an act of devotion, the eyes of all present should be directed towards the object of their adoration, aided by a variety of pious actions with the other members; as at the elevation of the host at mass, and other similar ceremonies. If it be a laughable subject, or one exciting compassion and moving to tears, in those cases it will not be necessary for all to have their eyes turned towards the object, but they will express their feelings by different actions; and let there be several assembled in groups, to rejoice or lament together. If the event be terrific, let the faces of those who run away from the fight, be strongly expressive of fright, with various motions; as shall be described in the tract on Motion.

[Pg 83]

Those objects which are entirely deprived of light, are lost to the sight, as in the night; therefore if you mean to paint a history under those circumstances, you must suppose a large fire, and those objects that are near it to be tinged with its colour, and the nearer they are the more they will partake of it. The fire being red, all those objects which receive light from it will appear of a reddish colour, and those that are most distant from it will partake of the darkness that surrounds them. The figures which are represented before the fire will appear dark in proportion to the brightness of the fire, because those parts of them which we see, are tinged by that darkness of the night, and not by the light of the fire, which they intercept. Those that are on either side of the fire, will be half in the shade of night, and half in the red light. Those seen beyond the extent of the flames, will be all of a reddish light upon a black ground. In regard to their attitudes, let those who are nearest the fire, make screens of their hands and cloaks, against the scorching heat, with their faces turned on the contrary side, as if ready to run away from it. The most remote will only be shading their eyes with their hands, as if hurt by the too great glare.

[Pg 84]

I will not omit to introduce among these precepts a new kind of speculative invention, which though apparently trifling, and almost laughable, is nevertheless of great utility in assisting the genius to find variety for composition.

By looking attentively at old and smeared walls, or stones and veined marble of various colours, you may fancy that you see in them several compositions, landscapes, battles, figures in quick motion, strange countenances, and dresses, with an infinity of other objects. By these confused lines the inventive genius is excited to new exertions.

When the painter has only a single figure to represent, he must avoid any shortening whatever, as well of any particular member, as of the whole figure, because he would have to contend with the prejudices of those who have no knowledge in that branch of the art. But in subjects of history, composed of many figures, shortenings may be introduced with great propriety, nay, they are indispensable, and ought to be used without reserve, as the subject may require; particularly in battles, where of course many shortenings and contortions of figures happen, amongst such an enraged multitude of actors, possessed, as it were, of a brutal madness.

[Pg 85]

Let your figures have actions appropriated to what they are intended to think or say, and these will be well learnt by imitating the deaf, who by the motion of their hands, eyes, eyebrows, and the whole body, endeavour to express the sentiments of their mind. Do not ridicule the thought of a master without a tongue teaching you an art he does not understand; he will do it better by his expressive motions, than all the rest by their words and examples. Let then the painter, of whatever school, attend well to this maxim, and apply it to the different qualities of the figures he represents, and to the nature of the subject in which they are actors.

Children are to be represented with quick and contorted motions, when they are sitting; but when standing, with fearful and timid motions.

Old men must have slow and heavy motions; their legs and knees must be bent when they are standing, and their feet placed parallel and wide asunder. Let them be bowed downwards, the [Pg 86] head leaning much forward, and their arms very little extended.

Old women, on the contrary, are to be represented bold and quick, with passionate motions, like furies [33]. But the motions are to appear a great deal quicker in their arms than in their legs.

Women are to be represented in modest and reserved attitudes, with their knees rather close, their arms drawing near each other, or folded about the body; their heads looking downwards, and leaning a little on one side.

The countenances of your figures should be expressive of their different situations: men at work, at rest, weeping, laughing, crying out, in fear, or joy, and the like. The attitudes also, and all the members, ought to correspond with the sentiment expressed in the faces.

The motions of the different parts of the face, occasioned by sudden agitations of the mind, are[Pg 87] many. The principal of these are, Laughter, Weeping, Calling out, Singing, either in a high or low pitch, Admiration, Anger, Joy, Sadness, Fear, Pain, and others, of which I propose to treat. First, of Laughing and Weeping, which are very similar in the motion of the mouth, the cheeks, the shutting of the eyebrows, and the space between them; as we shall explain in its place, in treating of the changes which happen in the face, hands, fingers, and all the other parts of the body, as they are affected by the different emotions of the soul; the knowledge of which is absolutely necessary to a painter, or else his figures may be said to be twice dead. But it is very necessary also that he be careful not to fall into the contrary extreme; giving extraordinary motions to his figures, so that in a quiet and peaceable subject, he does not seem to represent a battle, or the revellings of drunken men: but, above all, the actors in any point of history must be attentive to what they are about, or to what is going forward; with actions that denote admiration, respect, pain, suspicion, fear, and joy, according as the occasion, for which they are brought together, may require. Endeavour that different points of history be not placed one above the other on the same canvass, nor walls with different horizons [34], as if it were a jeweller’s shop, shewing the goods in different square caskets.

[Pg 88]

Between the expression of laughter and that of weeping there is no difference in the motion of the features either in the eyes, mouth, or cheeks; only in the ruffling of the brows, which is added when weeping, but more elevated and extended in laughing. One may represent the figure weeping as tearing his clothes, or some other expression, as various as the cause of his feeling may be; because some weep for anger, some through fear, others for tenderness and joy, or for suspicion; some for real pain and torment; whilst others weep through compassion, or regret at the loss of some friend and near relation. These different feelings will be expressed by some with marks of despair, by others with moderation; some only shed tears, others cry aloud, while another has his face turned towards heaven, with his hand depressed, and his fingers twisted. Some again will be full of apprehension, with their shoulders raised up to their ears, and so on, according to the above causes.

Those who weep, raise the brows, and bring them close together above the nose, forming many wrinkles on the forehead, and the corners of the mouth are turned downwards. Those who laugh have them turned upwards, and the brows open and extended.

[Pg 89]

If you represent a man in a violent fit of anger, make him seize another by the hair, holding his head writhed down against the ground, with his knee fixed upon the ribs of his antagonist; his right arm up, and his fist ready to strike; his hair standing on end, his eyebrows low and straight; his teeth close, and seen at the corner of the mouth; his neck swelled, and his body covered in the Abdomen with creases, occasioned by his bending over his enemy, and the excess of his passion.

The last act of despondency is, when a man is in the act of putting a period to his own existence. He should be represented with a knife in one hand, with which he has already inflicted the wound, and tearing it open with the other. His garments and hair should be already torn. He will be standing with his feet asunder, his knees a little bent, and his body leaning forward, as if ready to fall to the ground.

[Pg 90]

The student who is desirous of making great proficiency in the art of imitating the works of Nature, should not only learn the shape of figures or other objects, and be able to delineate them with truth and precision, but he must also accompany them with their proper lights and shadows, according to the situation in which those objects appear.

The knowledge of the outline is of most consequence, and yet may be acquired to great certainty by dint of study; as the outlines of the different parts of the human figure, particularly those which do not bend, are invariably the same. But the knowledge of the situation, quality, and quantity of shadows, being infinite, requires the most extensive study.

It requires much more observation and study to arrive at perfection in the shadowing of a picture,[Pg 91] than in merely drawing the lines of it. The proof of this is, that the lines may be traced upon a veil or a flat glass placed between the eye and the object to be imitated. But that cannot be of any use in shadowing, on account of the infinite gradation of shades, and the blending of them, which does not allow of any precise termination; and most frequently they are confused, as will be demonstrated in another place [35].

The first object of a painter is to make a simple flat surface appear like a relievo, and some of its parts detached from the ground; he who excels all others in that part of the art, deserves the greatest praise. This perfection of the art depends on the correct distribution of lights and shades, called Chiaro-scuro. If the painter then avoids shadows, he may be said to avoid the glory of the art, and to render his work despicable to real connoisseurs, for the sake of acquiring the esteem of vulgar and ignorant admirers of fine colours, who never have any knowledge of relievo.

Solid bodies are of two sorts: the one has the surface curvilinear, oval, or spherical; the other has[Pg 92] several surfaces, or sides producing angles, either regular or irregular. Spherical, or oval bodies, will always appear detached from their ground, though they are exactly of the same colour. Bodies also of different sides and angles will always detach, because they are always disposed so as to produce shades on some of their sides, which cannot happen to a plain superficies[36].

The painter who wishes to be universal, and please a variety of judges, must unite in the same composition, objects susceptible of great force in the shadows, and great sweetness in the management of them; accounting, however, in every instance, for such boldness and softenings.

If you wish to make good and useful studies, use great deliberation in your drawings, observe well among the lights which, and how many, hold the first rank in point of brightness; and so among the shadows, which are darker than others, and in what manner they blend together; compare the quality and quantity of one with the other, and observe to what part they are directed. Be careful also in your outlines, or divisions of the members. Remark well what quantity of parts are to be on one side, and [Pg 93] what on the other; and where they are more or less apparent, or broad, or slender. Lastly, take care that the shadows and lights be united, or lost in each other; without any hard strokes, or lines: as smoke loses itself in the air, so are your lights and shadows to pass from the one to the other, without any apparent separation.

When you have acquired the habit, and formed your hand to accuracy, quickness of execution will come of itself [37].

Let A B be the window, M the centre of it, C the model. The best situation for the painter will be a little sideways, between the window and his model, as D, so that he may see his object partly in the light and partly in the shadow.

The light from on high, and not too powerful, will be found the best calculated to shew the parts to advantage.

[Pg 94]

To this artificial light apply a paper blind, and you will see the shadows undetermined and soft.

It is a great error in some painters who draw a figure from Nature at home, by any particular light, and afterwards make use of that drawing in a picture representing an open country, which receives the general light of the sky, where the surrounding air gives light on all sides. This painter would put dark shadows, where Nature would either produce none, or, if any, so very faint as to be almost imperceptible; and he would throw reflected lights where it is impossible there should be any.

To paint well from Nature, your window should be to the North, that the lights may not vary. If it be to the South, you must have paper blinds, that the sun, in going round, may not alter the shadows. The situation of the light should be such as to produce upon the ground a shadow from your model as long as that is high.

[Pg 95]

The figures which receive a particular light shew more relief than those which receive an universal one; because the particular light occasions some reflexes, which proceed from the light of one object upon the shadows of another, and helps to detach it from the dark ground. But a figure placed in front of a dark and large space, and receiving a particular light, can receive no reflexion from any other objects, and nothing is seen of the figure but what the light strikes on, the rest being blended and lost in the darkness of the back ground. This is to be applied only to the imitation of night subjects with very little light.