{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_51459/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_51459","id":"gutenberg_51459","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51459","summary":null,"tags":["Aesthetics -- Early works to 1800","Category: Art","Category: Philosophy & Ethics"],"text":"THE\n\nANALYSIS\n\nOF\n\nBEAUTY.\n\n\nWritten with a view of fixing the fluctuating IDEAS of TASTE.\n\n\nBY WILLIAM HOGARTH.\n\n\n    _So vary'd he, and of his tortuous train\n    Curl'd many a wanton wreath, in sight of Eve,\n    To lure her eye_.----Milton.\n\n\n[Illustration: Variety]\n\n\nLONDON:\n\nPrinted by J. REEVES for the AUTHOR, And Sold by him at his House in\nLEICESTER-FIELDS.\n\n\nMDCCLIII.\n\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nIf a preface was ever necessary, it may very likely be thought so to\nthe following work; the title of which (in the proposals publish'd\nsome time since) hath much amused, and raised the expectation of the\ncurious, though not without a mixture of doubt, that its purport\ncould ever be satisfactorily answered. For though beauty is seen and\nconfessed by all, yet, from the many fruitless attempts to account for\nthe cause of its being so, enquiries on this head have almost been\ngiven up; and the subject generally thought to be a matter of too\nhigh and too delicate a nature to admit of any true or intelligible\ndiscussion. Something therefore introductory ought to be said at the\npresenting a work with a face so entirely new; especially as it will\nnaturally encounter with, and perhaps may overthrow, several long\nreceived and thorough establish'd opinions: and since controversies\nmay arise how far, and after what manner this subject hath hitherto\nbeen consider'd and treated, it will also be proper to lay before the\nreader, what may be gathered concerning it, from the works of the\nancient and modern writers and painters.\n\nIt is no wonder this subject should have so long been thought\ninexplicable, since the nature of many parts of it cannot possibly come\nwithin the reach of mere men of letters; otherwise those ingenious\ngentlemen who have lately published treatises upon it (and who have\nwritten much more learnedly than can be expected from one who never\ntook up the pen before) would not so soon have been bewilder'd in\ntheir accounts of it, and obliged so suddenly to turn into the\nbroad, and more beaten path of moral beauty; in order to extricate\nthemselves out of the difficulties they seem to have met with in\nthis: and withal forced for the same reasons to amuse their readers\nwith amazing (but often misapplied) encomiums on deceased painters\nand their performances; wherein they are continually discoursing of\neffects instead of developing causes; and after many prettinesses, in\nvery pleasing language, do fairly set you down just where they first\ntook you up; honestly confessing that as to GRACE, the main point in\nquestion, they do not even pretend to know any thing of the matter. And\nindeed how should they? when it actually requires a practical knowledge\nof the whole art of painting (sculpture alone not being sufficient)\nand that too to some degree of eminence, in order to enable any one to\npursue the chain of this enquiry through all its parts: which I hope\nwill be made to appear in the following work.\n\nIt will then naturally be asked, why the best painters within these\ntwo centuries, who by their works appear to have excelled in grace\nand beauty, should have been so silent in an affair of such seeming\nimportance to the imitative arts and their own honour? to which I\nanswer, that it is probable, they arrived at that excellence in their\nworks, by the mere dint of imitating with great exactness the beauties\nof nature, and by often copying and retaining strong ideas of graceful\nantique statues; which might sufficiently serve their purposes as\npainters, without their troubling themselves with a farther enquiry\ninto the particular causes of the effects before them. It is not\nindeed a little strange, that the great Leonardo da Vinci (amongst the\nmany philosophical precepts which he hath at random laid down in his\ntreatise on painting) should not have given the least hint of any thing\ntending to a system of this kind; especially, as he was cotemporary\nwith Michael Angelo, who is said to have discover'd a certain principle\nin the trunk only of an antique statue, (well known from this\ncircumstance by the name of Michael Angelo's Torso, or Back, fig. 54 p.\nI) which principle gave his works a grandeur of gusto equal to the best\nantiques. Relative to which tradition, Lomazzo who wrote about painting\nat the same time, hath this remarkable passage, vol. I. book I.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 54]\n\n\"And because in this place there falleth out a certaine precept of\n_Michael Angelo_ much for our purpose, I wil not conceale it, leaving\nthe farther interpretation and vnderstanding thereof to the iudicious\nreader. It is reported then that _Michael Angelo_ vpon a time gaue this\nobservation to the Painter _Marcus de Sciena_ his scholler; _that he\nshould alwaies make a figure Pyramidall, Serpentlike, and multiplied\nby one two and three_. In which precept (in mine opinion) the whole\nmysterie of the arte consisteth. For the greatest grace and life that\na picture can haue, is, that it expresse _Motion_: which the Painters\ncall the _spirite_ of a picture: Nowe there is no forme so fitte to\nexpresse this _motion_, as that of the flame of fire, which according\nto _Aristotle_ and the other Philosophers, is an elemente most actiue\nof all others: because the forme of the flame thereof is most apt for\nmotion: for it hath a _Conus_ or sharpe pointe wherewith it seemeth to\ndivide the aire, that so it may ascende to his proper sphere. So that a\npicture having this forme will bee most beautifull.\"[1]\n\n[1] See Haydock's translation printed at Oxford, 1598.\n\nMany writers since Lomazzo have in the same words recommended the\nobserving this rule also; without comprehending the meaning of it: for\nunless it were known systematically, the whole business of grace could\nnot be understood.\n\nDu Fresnoy, in his art of painting, says \"large flowing, gliding\noutlines which are in waves, give not only a grace to the part, but\nto the whole body; as we see in the Antinous, and in many other of\nthe antique figures: a fine figure and its parts ought always to have\na serpent-like and flaming form: naturally those sort of lines have\nI know not what of life and seeming motion in them, which very much\nresembles the activity of the flame and of the serpent.\" Now if he had\nunderstood what he had said, he could not, speaking of grace, have\nexpressed himself in the following contradictory manner.--\"But to say\nthe truth, this is a difficult undertaking, and a rare present, which\nthe artist rather receives from the hand of heaven than from his own\nindustry and studies[2].\" But De Piles, in his lives of the painters,\nis still more contradictory, where he says, \"that a painter can only\nhave it (meaning grace) from nature, and doth not know that he hath it,\nnor in what degree, nor how he communicates it to his works: and that\ngrace and beauty are two different things; beauty pleases by the rules,\nand grace without them.\"\n\n[2] See Dryden's translation of his latin poem on Painting, verse\n28, and the remarks on these very lines, page 155, which run thus,\n\"It is difficult to say what this grace of painting is, it is to be\nconceiv'd, and understood much more easy than to be expressed by words;\nit proceeds from the illuminations of an excellent mind, (but not to be\nacquired) by which we give a certain turn to things, which makes them\npleasing.\"\n\nAll the English writers on this subject have echo'd these passages;\nhence _Je ne s\u00e7ai quoi_, is become a fashionable phrase for grace.\n\nBy this it is plain, that this precept which Michael Angelo deliver'd\nso long ago in an oracle-like manner, hath remain'd mysterious down to\nthis time, for ought that has appear'd to the contrary. The wonder that\nit should do so will in some measure lessen when we come to consider\nthat it must all along have appeared as full of contradiction as the\nmost obscure quibble ever deliver'd at Delphos, because, _winding lines\nare as often the cause of deformity as of grace_, the solution of\nwhich, in this place, would be an anticipation of what the reader will\nfind at large in the body of the work.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. between Figs. 22 and 105]\n\nThere are also strong prejudices in favour of straight lines, as\nconstituting true beauty in the human form, where they never should\nappear. A middling connoisseur thinks no profile has beauty without a\nvery straight nose, and if the forehead be continued straight with it,\nhe thinks it is still more sublime. I have seen miserable scratches\nwith the pen, sell at a considerable rate for only having in them a\nside face or two, like that between fig. 22, and fig. 105, plate I,\nwhich was made, and any one might do the same, with the eyes shut.\nThe common notion that a person should be straight as an arrow, and\nperfectly erect is of this kind. If a dancing-master were to see his\nscholar in the easy and gracefully-turned attitude of the Antinous\n(fig. 6, plate I,) he would cry shame on him, and tell him he looked\nas crooked as a ram's horn, and bid him hold up his head as he himself\ndid. See fig. 7, plate I.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 6 and 7]\n\nThe painters, in like manner, by their works, seem to be no less\ndivided upon the subject than the authors. The French, except such\nas have imitated the antique, or the Italian school, seem to have\nstudiously avoided the serpentine line in all their pictures,\nespecially Anthony Coypel, history painter, and Rigaud, principal\nportrait painter to Lewis the 14th.\n\nRubens, whose manner of designing was quite original, made use of a\nlarge flowing line as a principle, which runs through all his works,\nand gives a noble spirit to them; but he did not seem to be acquainted\nwith what we call the _precise line_; which hereafter we shall be\nvery particular upon, and which gives the delicacy we see in the best\nItalian masters; but he rather charged his contours in general with too\nbold and S-like swellings.\n\nRaphael, from a straight and stiff manner, on a sudden changed his\ntaste of lines at sight of Michael Angelo's works, and the antique\nstatues; and so fond was he of the serpentine line, that he carried it\ninto a ridiculous excess, particularly in his draperies: though his\ngreat observance of nature suffer'd him not long to continue in this\nmistake.\n\nPeter de Cortone form'd a fine manner in his draperies of this line.\n\nWe see this principle no where better understood than in some pictures\nof Corregio, particularly his Juno and Ixion: yet the proportions of\nhis figures are sometimes such as might be corrected by a common sign\npainter.\n\nWhilst Albert Durer, who drew mathematically, never so much as\ndeviated into grace, which he must sometimes have done in copying the\nlife, if he had not been fetter'd with his own impracticable rules of\nproportion.\n\nBut that which may have puzzled this matter most, may be, that Vandyke,\none of the best portrait painters in most respects ever known, plainly\nappears not to have had a thought of this kind. For there seems not to\nbe the least grace in his pictures more than what the life chanced to\nbring before him. There is a print of the Dutchess of Wharton (fig. 52,\nplate II,) engraved by Van Gunst, from a true picture by him, which is\nthoroughly divested of every elegance. Now, had he known this line as\na principle, he could no more have drawn all the parts of this picture\nso contrary to it, than Mr. Addison could have wrote a whole spectator\nin false grammar; unless it were done on purpose. However, on account\nof his other great excellencies, painters chuse to stile this want of\ngrace in his attitudes, &c. _simplicity_, and indeed they do often very\njustly merit that epithet.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 52]\n\nNor have the painters of the present times been less uncertain and\ncontradictory to each other, than the masters already mentioned,\nwhatever they may pretend to the contrary: of this I had a mind to be\ncertain, and therefore, in the year 1745, published a frontispiece\nto my engraved works, in which I drew a serpentine line lying on a\npainter's pallet, with these words under it, THE LINE OF BEAUTY. The\nbait soon took; and no Egyptian hierogliphic ever amused more than it\ndid for a time, painters and sculptors came to me to know the meaning\nof it, being as much puzzled with it as other people, till it came to\nhave some explanation; then indeed, but not till then, some found it\nout to be an old acquaintance of theirs, tho' the account they could\ngive of its properties was very near as satisfactory as that which a\nday-labourer who constantly uses the leaver, could give of that machine\nas a mechanical power.\n\nOthers, as common face painters and copiers of pictures, denied that\nthere could be such a rule either in art or nature, and asserted it\nwas all stuff and madness; but no wonder that these gentlemen should\nnot be ready in comprehending a thing they have little or no business\nwith. For though the _picture copier_ may sometimes to a common eye\nseem to vye with the original he copies, the artist himself requires no\nmore ability, genius, or knowledge of nature, than a journeyman-weaver\nat the goblins, who in working after a piece of painting, bit by\nbit, scarcely knows what he is about, whether he is weaving a man or\na horse, yet at last almost insensibly turns out of his loom a fine\npiece of tapestry, representing, it may be, one of Alexander's battles\npainted by Le Brun.\n\nAs the above-mention'd print thus involved me in frequent disputes\nby explaining the qualities of the line, I was extremely glad to\nfind it (which I had conceiv'd as only part of a system in my mind)\nso well supported by the above precept of Michael Angelo: which was\nfirst pointed out to me by Dr. Kennedy, a learned antiquarian and\nconnoisseur, of whom I afterwards purchased the translation, from which\nI have taken several passages to my purpose.\n\nLet us now endeavour to discover what light antiquity throws upon the\nsubject in question.\n\nEgypt first, and afterward Greece, have manifested by their works\ntheir great skill in arts and sciences, and among the rest painting,\nand sculpture, all which are thought to have issued from their great\nschools of philosophy. Pythagoras, Socrates, and Aristotle, seem to\nhave pointed out the right road in nature for the study of the painters\nand sculptors of those times (which they in all probability afterwards\nfollowed through those nicer paths that their particular professions\nrequired them to pursue) as may be reasonably collected from the\nanswers given by Socrates to Aristippus his disciple, and Parrhasius\nthe painter, concerning FITNESS, the first fundamental law in nature\nwith regard to beauty.\n\nI am in some measure saved the trouble of collecting an historical\naccount of these arts among the ancients, by accidentally meeting\nwith a preface to a tract, call'd the _Beau Ideal_: this treatise[3]\nwas written by Lambert Hermanson Ten Kate, in French, and translated\ninto English by James Christopher le Blon; who in that preface\nsays, speaking of the Author, \"His superior knowledge that I am now\npublishing, is the product of the Analogy of the ancient Greeks; or the\ntrue key for finding all harmonious proportions in painting, sculpture,\narchitecture, musick, &c. brought home to Greece by Pythagoras. For\nafter this great philosopher had travell'd into Phoenicia, Egypt and\nChaldea, where he convers'd with the learned; he return'd into Greece\nabout Anno Mundi 3484. Before the christian \u00e6ra 520, and brought with\nhim many excellent discoveries and improvements for the good of his\ncountrymen, among which the Analogy was one of the most considerable\nand useful.\n\n[3] Publish'd in 1732, and sold by A. Millar.\n\n\"After him the Grecians, by the help of this Analogy, began (and not\nbefore) to excel other nations in sciences and arts; for whereas before\nthis time they represented their _Divinities_ in plain human figures,\nthe Grecians now began to enter into the Beau Ideal; and Pamphilus,\n(who flourish'd A. M. 3641, before the christian \u00e6ra 363, who taught,\nthat no man could excel in painting without mathematicks) the scholar\nof Pausias and master of Apelles, was the first who artfully apply'd\nthe said Analogy to the art of painting; as much about the same time\nthe sculpturers, the architects, &c. began to apply it to their several\narts, without which science, the Grecians had remain'd as ignorant as\ntheir forefathers.\n\n\"They carried on their improvements in drawing, painting, architecture,\nsculpture, &c. till they became the wonders of the world; especially\nafter the Asiaticks and Egyptians (who had formerly been the teachers\nof the Grecians) had, in process of time and by the havock of war, lost\nall the excellency in sciences and arts; for which all other nations\nwere afterwards obliged to the Grecians, without being able so much as\nto imitate them.\n\n\"For when the Romans had conquered Greece and Asia, and had brought\nto Rome the best paintings and the finest artists, we don't find they\ndiscovered the great key of knowledge, the Analogy I am now speaking\nof, but their best performances were conducted by Grecian artists,\nwho it seems cared not to communicate their secret of the Analogy;\nbecause either they intended to be necessary at Rome, by keeping\nthe secret among themselves, or else the Romans, who principally\naffected universal dominion, were not curious enough to search after\nthe secret, not knowing the importance of it, nor understanding that,\nwithout it, they could never attain to the excellency of the Grecians:\nthough nevertheless it must be owned that the Romans used well the\nproportions, which the Grecians long before had reduced to certain\nfixed rules according to their ancient Analogy; and the Romans could\narrive at the happy use of the proportions, without comprehending the\nAnalogy itself.\"\n\nThis account agrees with what is constantly observed in Italy,\nwhere the Greek, and Roman work, both in medals and statues, are as\ndistinguishable as the characters of the two languages.\n\nAs the preface had thus been of service to me, I was in hopes from the\ntitle of the book (and the assurance of the translator, that the author\nhad by his great learning discovered the secret of the ancients) to\nhave met with something there that might have assisted, or confirmed\nthe scheme I had in hand; but was much disappointed in finding nothing\nof that sort, and no explanation, or even after-mention of what at\nfirst agreeably alarmed me, the word _Analogy_. I have given the reader\na specimen, in his own words, how far the author has discovered this\ngrand secret of the ancients, or _great key of knowledge_, as the\ntranslator calls it.\n\n\"The sublime part that I so much esteem, and of which I have begun to\nspeak, is a real _Je ne s\u00e7ai quoi_, or an unaccountable something to\nmost people, and it is the most important part to all the connoisseurs,\nI shall call it an harmonious propriety, which is a touching or moving\nunity, or a pathetick agreement or concord, not only of each member to\nits body, but also of each part to the member of which it is a part:\n_It is also an infinite variety of parts_, however conformable, with\nrespect to each different subject, so that all the attitude, and all\nthe adjustment of the draperies of each figure ought to answer or\ncorrespond to the subject chosen. Briefly, it is a true decorum, a\nbienseance or a congruent disposition of ideas, as well for the face\nand stature, as for the attitudes. A bright genius, in my opinion,\nwho aspires to excel in the ideal, should propose this to himself, as\nwhat has been the principal study of the most famous artists. 'Tis\nin this part that the great masters cannot be imitated or copied but\nby themselves, or by those that are advanced in the knowledge of the\nideal, and who are as knowing as those masters in the rules or laws of\nthe pittoresque and poetical nature, altho' inferior to the masters in\nthe high spirit of invention.\"\n\nThe words in this quotation \"_It is also an infinite variety of\nparts_,\" seem at first to have some meaning in them, but it is entirely\ndestroy'd by the rest of the paragraph, and all the other pages are\nfilled, according to custom, with descriptions of pictures.\n\nNow, as every one has a right to conjecture what this discovery of the\nancients might be, it shall be my business to shew it was a key to the\nthorough knowledge of variety both in form, and movement. Shakespear,\nwho had the deepest penetration into nature, has sum'd up all the\ncharms of beauty in two words, INFINITE VARIETY; where, speaking of\nCleopatra's power over Anthony, he says,\n\n    ----Nor custom stale\n    Her infinite variety:----Act 2. Scene 3.\n\nIt has been ever observed, that the ancients made their doctrines\nmysterious to the vulgar, and kept them secret from those who were\nnot of their particular sects, and societies, by means of symbols,\nand hieroglyphics. Lomazzo says, chap. 29, book 1. \"The Grecians in\nimitation of antiquity searched out the truly renowned proportion,\nwherein the exact perfection of most exquisite beauty and sweetness\nappeareth; dedicating the same in a triangular glass unto Venus the\ngoddess of divine beauty, from whence all the beauty of inferior things\nis derived.\"\n\nIf we suppose this passage to be authentic, may we not also imagine it\nprobable, that the symbol in the triangular glass, might be similar to\nthe line Michael Angelo recommended; especially, if it can be proved,\nthat the triangular form of the glass, and the serpentine line itself,\nare the two most expressive figures that can be thought of to signify\nnot only beauty and grace, but the whole _order of form_.\n\nThere is a circumstance in the account Pliny gives of Apelles's\nvisit to Protogenes, which strengthens this supposition. I hope I may\nhave leave to repeat the story. Apelles having heard of the fame of\nProtogenes, went to Rhodes to pay him a visit, but not finding him at\nhome asked for a board, on which he drew a _line_, telling the servant\nmaid, that line would signify to her master who had been to see him;\nwe are not clearly told what sort of a line it was that could so\nparticularly signify one of the first of his profession: if it was only\na stroke (tho' as fine as a hair as Pliny seems to think) it could not\npossibly, by any means, denote the abilities of a great painter. But if\nwe suppose it to be a line of some extraordinary quality, such as the\nserpentine line will appear to be, Apelles could not have left a more\nsatisfactory signature of the complement he had paid him. Protogenes\nwhen he came home took the hint, and drew a finer _or rather more\nexpressive line_ within it, to shew Apelles if he came again, that he\nunderstood his meaning. He, soon returning, was well-pleased with the\nanswer Protogenes had left for him, by which he was convinced that\nfame had done him justice, and so correcting the line again, perhaps\nby making it more precisely elegant, he took his leave. The story thus\nmay be reconcil'd to common sense, which, as it has been generally\nreceiv'd, could never be understood but as a ridiculous tale.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. over Fig. 4]\n\nLet us add to this, that there is scarce an Egyptian, Greek, or Roman\ndeity, but hath a twisted serpent, twisted cornucopia, or some symbol\nwinding in this manner to accompany it. The two small heads (over the\nbusto of the Hercules, fig. 4, in plate I) of the goddess Isis, one\ncrowned with a globe between two horns, the other with a lily[4], are\nof this kind. Harpocrates, the god of silence, is still more remarkably\nso, having a large twisted horn growing out of the side of his head,\none cornucopia in his hand, and another at his feet, with his finger\nplaced on his lips, indicating secrecy: (see Montfaucon's antiquities)\nand it is as remarkable, that the deities of barbarous and gothic\nnations never had, nor have to this day, any of these elegant forms\nbelonging to them. How absolutely void of these turns are the pagods\nof China, and what a mean taste runs through most of their attempts in\npainting and sculpture, notwithstanding they finish with such excessive\nneatness; the whole nation in these matters seem to have but one eye:\nthis mischief naturally follows from the prejudices they imbibe by\ncopying one anothers works, which the ancients seem seldom to have done.\n\n[4] The leaves of this flower as they grow, twist themselves various\nways in a pleasing manner, as may be better seen by figure 43, in plate\nI, but there is a curious little flower called the Autumn Syclamen,\nfig. 47, the leaves of which elegantly twist one way only.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 43 and 47]\n\nUpon the whole, it is evident, that the ancients studied these arts\nvery differently from the moderns: Lomazzo seems to be partly aware of\nthis, by what he says in the division of his work, page 9, \"There is\na two-folde proceeding in all artes and sciences: the one is called\nthe order of nature, and the other of teaching. Nature proceedeth\nordinarily, beginning with the unperfect, as the particulars, and\nending with the perfect, as the universals. Now if in searching out the\nnature of things, our understanding shall proceede after that order,\nby which they are brought forth by nature, doubtlesse it will be the\nmost absolute and ready method that can bee imagined. For we beginne to\nknow things by their first and immediate principles, &c. and this is\nnot only mine opinion but Aristotles also,\" yet, mistaking Aristotle's\nmeaning, and absolutely deviating from his advice, he afterwards says,\n\"all which if we could comprehend within our understanding, we should\nbe most wise; but it is _impossible_,\" and after having given some dark\nreasons why he thinks so, he tells you \"he resolves to follow the order\nof teaching,\" which all the writers on painting have in like manner\nsince done.\n\nHad I observed the foregoing passage, before I undertook this\nessay, it probably would have put me to a stand, and deterred me from\nventuring upon what Lomazzo calls an impossible task: but observing\nin the foremention'd controversies that the torrent generally ran\nagainst me; and that several of my opponents had turn'd my arguments\ninto ridicule, yet were daily availing themselves of their use,\nand venting them even to my face as their own; I began to wish the\npublication of something on this subject; and accordingly applied\nmyself to several of my friends, whom I thought capable of taking up\nthe pen for me, offering to furnish them with materials by word of\nmouth: but finding this method not practicable, from the difficulty\nof one man's expressing the ideas of another, especially on a subject\nwhich he was either unacquainted with, or was new in its kind, I was\ntherefore reduced to an attempt of finding such words as would best\nanswer my own ideas, being now too far engaged to drop the design.\nHereupon, having digested the matter as well as I could, and thrown\nit into the form of a book, I submitted it to the judgment of such\nfriends whose sincerity and abilities I could best rely on, determining\non their approbation or dislike to publish or destroy it: but their\nfavourable opinion of the manuscript being publicly known, it gave such\na credit to the undertaking, as soon changed the countenances of those,\nwho had a better opinion of my pencil, than my pen, and turn'd their\nsneers into expectation: especially when the same friends had kindly\nmade me an offer of conducting the work through the press. And here\nI must acknowledge myself particularly indebted to one gentleman for\nhis corrections and amendment of at least a third part of the wording.\nThrough his absence and avocations, several sheets went to the press\nwithout any assistance, and the rest had the occasional inspection\nof one or two other friends. If any inaccuracies shall be found in\nthe writing, I shall readily acknowledge them all my own, and am, I\nconfess, under no great concern about them, provided the matter in\ngeneral may be found useful and answerable in the application of it to\ntruth and nature; in which material points, if the reader shall think\nfit to rectify any mistakes, it will give me a sensible pleasure, and\nbe doing great honour to the work.\n\n\n\n\nADVERTISEMENT.\n\n\n_For the more easy finding the figures referred to in the two prints\nbelonging to this work, the references are for the most part placed in\nthe margin. Fig._ T p. I _signifies the top of plate_ I. L p. I _the\nleft side_. R p. I _the right side_. B. p. I. _the bottom. And where a\nfigure is referred to in the middle of either print, it is only mark'd\nthus, fig._ p. I _or fig._ p. II.\n\n[Transcriber's note: In this digital edition, these marginal references\nhave been incorporated into the text within square brackets, e.g. [fig.\n1 T p. I]. The two prints were not originally bound into the book; they\nare reproduced in their entirety below. Reproductions of the individual\nfigures have also been incorporated into the text at the appropriate\npoints.]\n\n[Illustration: PLATE I]\n\n[Illustration: PLATE II]\n\n\n\n\n  CONTENTS.\n\n                                               page\n\n  PREFACE.                                     iii\n\n  ADVERTISEMENT.\n  _The plates and figures_.                    xxii\n\n  INTRODUCTION.\n  _The use and advantage of considering\n  solid objects as only thin shells composed\n  of lines, like the outer-coat of an onion_.  1\n\n  CHAPTER I.\n  _Of FITNESS_,                                13\n\n  CHAPTER II.\n  _Of VARIETY_,                                16\n\n  CHAPTER III.\n  _Of UNIFORMITY, REGULARITY, or\n  SYMMETRY_,                                   18\n\n  CHAPTER IV.\n  _Of SIMPLICITY, or\n  DISTINCTNESS_,                               21\n\n  CHAPTER V.\n  _Of INTRICACY_,                              24\n\n  CHAPTER VI.\n  _Of QUANTITY_,                               29\n\n  CHAPTER VII.\n  _Of LINES_,                                  37\n\n  CHAPTER VIII.\n  _Of what sort of parts and how PLEASING\n  FORMS are composed_,                         39\n\n  CHAPTER IX.\n  _Of COMPOSITIONS with the\n  WAVING LINE_,                                48\n\n  CHAPTER X.\n  _Of COMPOSITIONS with the\n  SERPENTINE LINE_,                            50\n\n  CHAPTER XI.\n  _Of PROPORTION_,                             67\n\n  CHAPTER XII.\n  _Of LIGHT and SHADE, and\n  the manner in which objects are explained\n  to the eye by them_,                         93\n\n  CHAPTER XIII.\n  _Of COMPOSITION with regard to LIGHT,\n  SHADE, and COLOURS_,                         106\n\n  CHAPTER XIV.\n  _Of COLOURING_.                              113\n\n  CHAPTER XV.\n  _Of the FACE_.\n  1. _In the highest taste, and the reverse_.\n  2. _As to character and expression_.\n  3. _Of the manner in which the lines of the\n  Face alter from infancy upwards, and shew\n  the different Ages_,                         122\n\n  CHAPTER XVI.\n  _Of ATTITUDE_,                               135\n\n  CHAPTER XVII.\n  _Of ACTION_.\n  1. _A new method of acquiring an easy and\n  graceful movement of the hand and arms_.\n  2. _Of the head, &c._\n  3. _Of dancing, particularly the minuet_.\n  4. _Of country-dancing, and, lastly, of\n  stage-action_.                               138\n\n  _Prints Publish'd by_ W. HOGARTH.\n\n  FIGURES _referr'd to in the_ BOOK.\n\n\n\n\n\nERRATA.\n\n[Transcriber's note: Hogarth's corrections are now incorporated within\nthe text.]\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nI now offer to the public a short essay, accompanied with two\nexplanatory prints, in which I shall endeavour to shew what the\nprinciples are in nature, by which we are directed to call the forms\nof some bodies beautiful, others ugly; some graceful, and others the\nreverse; by considering more minutely than has hitherto been done, the\nnature of those lines, and their different combinations, which serve\nto raise in the mind the ideas of all the variety of forms imaginable.\nAt first, perhaps, the whole design, as well as the prints, may seem\nrather intended to trifle and confound, than to entertain and inform:\nbut I am persuaded that when the examples in nature, referr'd to in\nthis essay, are duly consider'd and examined upon the principles laid\ndown in it, it will be thought worthy of a careful and attentive\nperusal: and the prints themselves too will, I make no doubt, be\nexamined as attentively, when it is found, that almost every figure in\nthem (how odly soever they may seem to be group'd together) is referr'd\nto singly in the essay, in order to assist the reader's imagination,\nwhen the original examples in art, or nature, are not themselves before\nhim.\n\nAnd in this light I hope my prints will be consider'd, and that the\nfigures referr'd to in them will never be imagined to be placed there\nby me as examples themselves, of beauty or grace, but only to point out\nto the reader what sorts of objects he is to look for and examine in\nnature, or in the works of the greatest masters. My figures, therefore,\nare to be consider'd in the same light, with those a mathematician\nmakes with his pen, which may convey the idea of his demonstration,\ntho' not a line in them is either perfectly straight, or of that\npeculiar curvature he is treating of. Nay, so far was I from aiming at\ngrace, that I purposely chose to be least accurate, where most beauty\nmight be expected, that no stress might be laid on the figures to the\nprejudice of the work itself. For I must confess, I have but little\nhopes of having a favourable attention given to my design in general,\nby those who have already had a more fashionable introduction into\nthe mysteries of the arts of painting, and sculpture. Much less do I\nexpect, or in truth desire, the countenance of that set of people, who\nhave an interest in exploding any kind of doctrine, that may teach us\nto _see with our own eyes_.\n\nIt may be needless to observe, that some of the last-mention'd, are\nnot only the dependents on, but often the only instructors and leaders\nof the former; but in what light they are so consider'd abroad, may\nbe partly seen by [Fig. 1 T p. I] a burlesque representation of them,\ntaken from a print publish'd by Mr. Pond, design'd by Cavr. Ghezzi at\nRome.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 1]\n\nTo those, then, whose judgments are unprejudiced, this little work\nis submitted with most pleasure; because it is from such that I have\nhitherto received the most obligations, and now have reason to expect\nmost candour.\n\nTherefore I would fain have such of my readers be assured, that\nhowever they may have been aw'd, and over-born by pompous terms of\nart, hard names, and the parade of seemingly magnificent collections\nof pictures and statues; they are in a much fairer way, ladies, as\nwell as gentlemen, of gaining a perfect knowledge of the elegant and\nbeautiful in artificial, as well as natural forms, by considering them\nin a systematical, but at the same time familiar way, than those who\nhave been prepossess'd by dogmatic rules, taken from the performances\nof art only: nay, I will venture to say, sooner, and more rationally,\nthan even a tolerable painter, who has imbibed the same prejudices.\n\nThe more prevailing the notion may be, that painters and connoisseurs\nare the only competent judges of things of this sort; the more it\nbecomes necessary to clear up and confirm, as much as possible, what\nhas only been asserted in the foregoing paragraph: that no one may be\ndeterr'd, by the want of such previous knowledge, from entring into\nthis enquiry.\n\nThe reason why gentlemen, who have been inquisitive after knowledge in\npictures, have their eyes less qualified for our purpose, than others,\nis because their thoughts have been entirely and continually employ'd\nand incumber'd with considering and retaining the various _manners_ in\nwhich pictures are painted, the histories, names, and characters of the\nmasters, together with many other little circumstances belonging to the\nmechanical part of the art; and little or no time has been given for\nperfecting the ideas they ought to have in their minds, of the objects\nthemselves in nature: for by having thus espoused and adopted their\nfirst notions from nothing but _imitations_, and becoming too often\nas bigotted to their faults, as their beauties, they at length, in a\nmanner, totally neglect, or at least disregard the works of nature,\nmerely because they do not tally with what their minds are so strongly\nprepossess'd with.\n\nWere not this a true state of the case, many a reputed capital picture,\nthat now adorns the cabinets of the curious in all countries, would\nlong ago have been committed to the flames: nor would it have been\npossible for the Venus and Cupid, represented by the figure [under Fig.\n49 T p. I], to have made its way into the principal apartment of a\npalace.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. under Fig. 49]\n\nIt is also evident that the painter's eye may not be a bit better\nfitted to receive these new impressions, who is in like manner too\nmuch captivated with the works of art; for he also is apt to pursue\nthe shadow, and drop the substance. This mistake happens chiefly to\nthose who go to Rome for the accomplishment of their studies; as they\nnaturally will, without the utmost care, take the infectious turn of\nthe connoisseur, instead of the painter: and in proportion as they\nturn by those means bad proficients in their own arts, they become the\nmore considerable in that of a connoisseur. As a confirmation of this\nseeming paradox, it has ever been observ'd at all auctions of pictures,\nthat the very worst painters sit as the most profound judges, and are\ntrusted only, I suppose, on account of their _disinterestedness_.\n\nI apprehend a good deal of this will look more like resentment, and a\ndesign to invalidate the objections of such as are not likely to set\nthe faults of this work in the most favourable light; than merely for\nthe encouragement, as was said above, of such of my readers, as are\nneither painters, nor connoisseurs: and I will be ingenuous enough to\nconfess something of this may be true; but, at the same time, I cannot\nallow that this alone would have been a sufficient motive to have made\nme risk giving offence to any; had not another consideration, besides\nthat already alledg'd, of more consequence to the purpose in hand, made\nit necessary. I mean the setting forth, in the strongest colours, the\nalterations objects seemingly undergo through the prepossessions and\nprejudices contracted by the mind.----Fallacies, strongly to be guarded\nagainst by such as would learn to see objects truly!\n\nAltho' the instances already given are pretty flagrant, yet it is\ncertainly true, (as a farther confirmation of this, and for the\nconsolation of those, who may be a little piqued at what has been said)\nthat painters of every condition are stronger instances of the almost\nunavoidable power of prejudice, than any people whatever.\n\nWhat are all the _manners_, as they are call'd, of even the greatest\nmasters, which are known to differ so much from one another, and all\nof them from nature, but so many strong proofs of their inviolable\nattachment to falshood, converted into establish'd truth in their own\neyes, by self-opinion? Rubens would, in all probability, have been\nas much disgusted at the dry manner of Poussin, as Poussin was at\nthe extravagant of Rubens. The prejudices of inferior proficients in\nfavour of the imperfections of their own performances, is still more\namazing.----Their eyes are so quick in discerning the faults of others,\nat the same time they are so totally blind to their own! Indeed it\nwould be well for us all, if one of Gulliver's flappers could be placed\nat our elbows to remind us at every stroke how much prejudice and\nself-opinion perverts our sight.\n\nFrom what has been said, I hope it appears that those, who have no\nbias of any kind, either from their own practice, or the lessons of\nothers, are fittest to examine into the truth of the principles laid\ndown in the following pages. But as every one may not have had an\nopportunity of being sufficiently acquainted with the instances, that\nhave been given: I will offer one of a familiar kind, which may be a\nhint for their observing a thousand more. How gradually does the eye\ngrow reconciled even to a disagreeable dress, as it becomes more and\nmore the fashion, and how soon return to its dislike of it, when it is\nleft off, and a new one has taken possession of the mind?--so vague is\ntaste, when it has no solid principles for its foundation!\n\nNotwithstanding I have told you my design of considering minutely the\nvariety of lines, which serve to raise the ideas of bodies in the mind,\nand which are undoubtedly to be consider'd as drawn on the surfaces\nonly of solid or opake bodies: yet the endeavouring to conceive, as\naccurate an idea as is possible, of the _inside_ of those surfaces, if\nI may be allow'd the expression, will be a great assistance to us in\nthe pursuance of our present enquiry.\n\nIn order to my being well understood, let every object under our\nconsideration, be imagined to have its inward contents scoop'd out\nso nicely, as to have nothing of it left but a thin shell, exactly\ncorresponding both in its inner and outer surface, to the shape of\nthe object itself: and let us likewise suppose this thin shell to be\nmade up of very fine threads, closely connected together, and equally\nperceptible, whether the eye is supposed to observe them from without,\nor within; and we shall find the ideas of the two surfaces of this\nshell will naturally coincide. The very word, shell, makes us seem to\nsee both surfaces alike.\n\nThe use of this conceit, as it may be call'd by some, will be seen to\nbe very great, in the process of this work: and the oftner we think of\nobjects in this shell-like manner, we shall facilitate and strengthen\nour conception of any particular part of the surface of an object we\nare viewing, by acquiring thereby a more perfect knowledge of the\nwhole, to which it belongs: because the imagination will naturally\nenter into the vacant space within this shell, and there at once,\nas from a center, view the whole form within, and mark the opposite\ncorresponding parts so strongly, as to retain the idea of the whole,\nand make us masters of the meaning of every view of the object, as we\nwalk round it, and view it from without.\n\nThus the most perfect idea we can possibly acquire of a sphere, is\nby conceiving an infinite number of straight rays of equal lengths,\nissuing from the center, as from the eye, spreading every way alike;\nand circumscribed or wound about at their other extremities with close\nconnected circular threads, or lines, forming a true spherical shell.\n\nBut in the common way of taking the view of any opake object, that\npart of its surface, which fronts the eye, is apt to occupy the mind\nalone, and the opposite, nay even every other part of it whatever,\nis left unthought of at that time: and the least motion we make to\nreconnoitre any other side of the object, confounds our first idea, for\nwant of the connexion of the two ideas, which the complete knowledge of\nthe whole would naturally have given us, if we had considered it in the\nother way before.\n\nAnother advantage of considering objects thus merely as shells\ncomposed of lines, is, that by these means we obtain the true and full\nidea of what is call'd the _out-lines_ of a figure, which has been\nconfin'd within too narrow limits, by taking it only from drawings\non paper; for in the example of the sphere given above, every one of\nthe imaginary circular threads has a right to be consider'd as an\nout-line of the sphere, as well as those which divide the half, that\nis seen, from that which is not seen; and if the eye be supposed to\nmove regularly round it, these threads will each of them as regularly\nsucceed one another in the office of out-lines, (in the narrow and\nlimited sense of the word:) and the instant any one of these threads,\nduring this motion of the eye, comes into sight on one side, its\nopposite thread is lost, and disappears on the other. He who will thus\ntake the pains of acquiring perfect ideas of the distances, bearings,\nand oppositions of several material points and lines in the surfaces of\neven the most irregular figures, will gradually arrive at the knack of\nrecalling them into his mind when the objects themselves are not before\nhim: and they will be as strong and perfect as those of the most plain\nand regular forms, such as cubes and spheres; and will be of infinite\nservice to those who invent and draw from fancy, as well as enable\nthose to be more correct who draw from the life.\n\nIn this manner, therefore, I would desire the reader to assist his\nimagination as much as possible, in considering every object, as if\nhis eye were placed within it. As straight lines are easily conceiv'd,\nthe difficulty of following this method in the most simple and regular\nforms will be less than may be first imagined; and its use in the more\ncompounded will be greater: as will be more fully shewn when we come to\nspeak of composition.\n\nBut as [Fig. 2 L p. I] may be of singular use to young designers in\nthe study of the human form, the most complex and beautiful of all, in\nshewing them a mechanical way of gaining the opposite points in its\nsurface, which never can be seen in one and the same view; it will be\nproper to explain the design of it in this place, as it may at the same\ntime add some weight to what has been already said.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 2]\n\nIt represents the trunk of a figure cast in soft wax, with one wire\npass'd perpendicularly through its center, another perpendicularly to\nthe first, going in before and coming out in the middle of the back,\nand as many more as may be thought necessary, parallel to and at equal\ndistances from these, and each other; as is mark'd by the several\ndots in the figure.--Let these wires be so loose as to be taken out\nat pleasure, but not before all the parts of them, which appear out\nof the wax, are carefully painted close up to the wax, of a different\ncolour from those, that lie within it. By these means the horizontal\nand perpendicular _contents_ of these parts of the body (by which I\nmean the distances of opposite points in the surface of these parts)\nthrough which the wires have pass'd, may be exactly known and compared\nwith each other; and the little holes, where the wires have pierced the\nwax, remaining on its surface, will mark out the corresponding opposite\npoints on the external muscles of the body; as well as assist and guide\nus to a readier conception of all the intervening parts. These points\nmay be mark'd upon a marble figure with calibers properly used.\n\nThe known method, many years made use of, for the more exactly and\nexpeditiously reducing drawings from large pictures, for engravings; or\nfor enlarging designs, for painting cielings and cupolas, (by striking\nlines perpendicular to each other, so as to make an equal number of\nsquares on the paper design'd for the copy, that hath been first made\non the original; by which means, the situation of every part of the\npicture is mechanically seen, and easily transferred) may truly be said\nto be somewhat of the same kind with what has been here proposed, but\nthat one is done upon a flat surface, the other upon a solid; and that\nthe new scheme differs in its application, and may be of a much more\nuseful and extensive nature than the old one.\n\nBut it is time now to have done with the introduction: and I shall\nproceed to consider the fundamental principles, which are generally\nallowed to give elegance and beauty, when duly blended together, to\ncompositions of all kinds whatever; and point out to my readers, the\nparticular force of each, in those compositions in nature and art,\nwhich seem most to _please and entertain the eye_, and give that grace\nand beauty, which is the subject of this enquiry. The principles I\nmean, are FITNESS, VARIETY, UNIFORMITY, SIMPLICITY, INTRICACY and\nQUANTITY;----_all which co-operate in the production of beauty,\nmutually correcting and restraining each other occasionally_.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\n_Of FITNESS_.\n\n\nFitness of the parts to the design for which every individual thing\nis form'd, either by art or nature, is first to be consider'd, as it\nis of the greatest consequence to the beauty of the whole. This is so\nevident, that even the sense of seeing, the great inlet of beauty,\nis itself so strongly bias'd by it, that if the mind, on account of\nthis kind of value in a form, esteem it beautiful, tho' on all other\nconsiderations it be not so; the eye grows insensible of its want of\nbeauty, and even begins to be pleas'd, especially after it has been a\nconsiderable time acquainted with it.\n\nIt is well known on the other hand, that forms of great elegance often\ndisgust the eye by being improperly applied. Thus, twisted columns are\nundoubtedly ornamental; but as they convey an idea of weakness, they\nalways displease, when they are improperly made use of as supports to\nany thing that is bulky, or appears heavy.\n\nThe bulks and proportions of objects are govern'd by fitness and\npropriety. It is this that has establish'd the size and proportion of\nchairs, tables, and all sorts of utensils and furniture. It is this\nthat has fix'd the dimensions of pillars, arches, &c. for the support\nof great weight, and so regulated all the orders in architecture, as\nwell as the sizes of windows and doors, &c. Thus though a building were\never so large, the steps of the stairs, the seats in the windows must\nbe continued of their usual heights, or they would lose their beauty\nwith their fitness: and in ship-building the dimensions of every part\nare confin'd and regulated by fitness for sailing. When a vessel sails\nwell, the sailors always call her a beauty; the two ideas have such a\nconnexion!\n\nThe general dimensions of the parts of the human body are adapted thus\nto the uses they are design'd for. The trunk is the most capacious on\naccount of the quantity of its contents, and the thigh is larger than\nthe leg, because it has both the leg and foot to move, the leg only the\nfoot, &c.\n\nFitness of parts also constitutes and distinguishes in a great measure\nthe characteristics of objects; as for example, the race-horse differs\nas much in quality, or character, from the war-horse, as to its figure,\nas the Hercules from the Mercury.\n\nThe race-horse, having all its parts of such dimensions as best fit the\npurposes of speed, acquires on that account a consistent character of\none sort of beauty. To illustrate this, suppose the beautiful head and\ngracefully-turn'd neck of the war-horse were placed on the shoulders\nof the race-horse, instead of his own aukward straight one: it would\ndisgust, and deform, instead of adding beauty; because the judgment\nwould condemn it as unfit.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 3]\n\nThe Hercules, by Glicon [Fig. 3 p. I], hath all its parts finely fitted\nfor the purposes of the utmost strength, the texture of the human form\nwill bear. The back, breast and shoulders have huge bones, and muscles\nadequate to the supposed active strength of its upper parts; but as\nless strength was required for the lower parts, the judicious sculptor,\ncontrary to all modern rule of enlarging every part in proportion,\nlessen'd the size of the muscles gradually down towards the feet; and\nfor the same reason made the neck larger in circumference than any\npart of the head [Fig. 4 p. I]; otherwise the figure would have been\nburden'd with an unnecessary weight, which would have been a draw-back\nfrom his strength, and in consequence of that, from its characteristic\nbeauty.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 4]\n\nThese seeming faults, which shew the superior anatomical knowledge as\nwell as judgment of the ancients, are not to be found in the leaden\nimitations of it near Hyde-park. These saturnine genius's imagin'd they\nknew how to correct such apparent _disproportions_.\n\nThese few examples may be sufficient to give an idea of what I mean\n(and would have understood) by the beauty of fitness, or propriety.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\n_Of VARIETY_.\n\n\nHow great a share variety has in producing beauty may be seen in the\nornamental part of nature.\n\nThe shapes and colours of plants, flowers, leaves, the paintings in\nbutterflies wings, shells, &c. seem of little other intended use, than\nthat of entertaining the eye with the pleasure of variety.\n\nAll the senses delight in it, and equally are averse to sameness. The\near is as much offended with one even continued note, as the eye is\nwith being fix'd to a point, or to the view of a dead wall.\n\nYet when the eye is glutted with a succession of variety, it finds\nrelief in a certain degree of sameness; and even plain space becomes\nagreeable, and properly introduced, and contrasted with variety, adds\nto it more variety.\n\nI mean here, and every where indeed, a composed variety; for variety\nuncomposed, and without design, is confusion and deformity.\n\nObserve, that a gradual lessening is a kind of varying that gives\nbeauty. The pyramid diminishing from its basis to its point, and the\nscroll or voluta, gradually lessening to its center, are beautiful\nforms. So also objects that only seem to do so, though in fact they do\nnot, have equal beauty: thus perspective views, and particularly those\nof buildings, are always pleasing to the eye.\n\nThe little ship, between figure 47 and 88 [p. I], suppos'd moving\nalong the shore even with the eye, might have its top and bottom\nbounded by two lines at equal distances all the way, as A; but if the\nship puts out to sea, these lines at top and bottom would seem to\nvary and meet each other by degrees, as B, in the point C, which is\nin the line where the sky and water meets, call'd the horizon. Thus\nmuch of the manner of perspectives adding beauty, by seemingly varying\notherwise unvaried forms, I thought, might be acceptable to those, who\nhave not learnt perspective.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. between Figs. 47 and 88]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\n_Of UNIFORMITY, REGULARITY, or SYMMETRY_.\n\n\nIt may be imagined that the greatest part of the effects of beauty\nresults from the symmetry of parts in the object, which is beautiful:\nbut I am very well persuaded, this prevailing notion will soon appear\nto have little or no foundation.\n\nIt may indeed have properties of greater consequence, such as\npropriety, fitness, and use; and yet but little serve the purposes of\npleasing the eye, merely on the score of beauty.\n\nWe have, indeed, in our nature a love of imitation from our infancy,\nand the eye is often entertained, as well as surprised, with mimicry,\nand delighted with the exactness of counterparts: but then this always\ngives way to its superior love of variety, and soon grows tiresom.\n\nIf the uniformity of figures, parts, or lines were truly the chief\ncause of beauty, the more exactly uniform their appearances were kept,\nthe more pleasure the eye would receive: but this is so far from being\nthe case, that when the mind has been once satisfied, that the parts\nanswer one another, with so exact an uniformity, as to preserve to the\nwhole the character of fitness to stand, to move, to sink, to swim, to\nfly, &c. without losing the balance: the eye is rejoiced to see the\nobject turn'd, and shifted, so as to vary these uniform appearances.\n\nThus the profile of most objects, as well as faces, are rather more\npleasing than their full fronts.\n\nWhence it is clear, the pleasure does not arise from seeing the exact\nresemblance, which one side bears the other, but from the knowledge\nthat they do so on account of fitness, with design, and for use. For\nwhen the head of a fine woman is turn'd a little to one side, which\ntakes off from the exact similarity of the two halves of the face,\nand somewhat reclining, so varying still more from the straight and\nparallel lines of a formal front face: it is always look'd upon as most\npleasing. This is accordingly said to be a graceful air of the head.\n\nIt is a constant rule in composition in painting to avoid regularity.\nWhen we view a building, or any other object in life, we have it in our\npower, by shifting the ground, to take that view of it which pleases\nus best; and in consequence of this, the painter if he is left to his\nchoice, takes it on the angle rather than in front, as most agreeable\nto the eye; because the regularity of the lines is taken away by their\nrunning into perspective, without losing the idea of fitness: and when\nhe is of necessity obliged to give the front of a building, with all\nits equalities and parallelisms, he generally breaks (as it is term'd)\nsuch disagreeable appearances, by throwing a tree before it, or the\nshadow of an imaginary cloud, or some other object that may answer the\nsame purpose of adding variety, which is the same with taking away\nuniformity.\n\nIf uniform objects were agreeable, why is there such care taken to\ncontrast, and vary all the limbs of a statue?\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 72, 6 and 7]\n\nThe picture of Henry the Eighth [Fig. 72 p. II], would be preferable to\nthe finely contrasted figures of Guido or Correggio; and the Antinous's\neasy sway [Fig. 6 p. I], must submit to the stiff and straight figure\nof the dancing-master [Fig. 7 p. I]; and the uniform out-lines of the\nmuscles in the figure [Fig. 55 p. I] taken from Albert Durer's book of\nproportions, would have more taste in them than those in the famous\npart of an antique figure [Fig. 54 p. I] from which Michael Angelo\nacquired so much of his skill in grace.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 55 and 54]\n\nIn short, whatever appears to be fit, and proper to answer great\npurposes, ever satisfies the mind, and pleases on that account.\nUniformity is of this kind. We find it necessary, in some degree, to\ngive the idea of rest and motion, without the possibility of falling.\nBut when any such purposes can be as well effected by more irregular\nparts, the eye is always better pleased on the account of variety.\n\nHow pleasingly is the idea of firmness in standing convey'd to the eye\nby the three elegant claws of a table, the three feet of a tea-lamp, or\nthe celebrated tripod of the ancients?\n\nThus you see regularity, uniformity, or symmetry, please only as they\nserve to give the idea of fitness.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\n_Of SIMPLICITY, or DISTINCTNESS_.\n\n\nSimplicity, without variety, is wholly insipid, and at best does only\nnot displease; but when variety is join'd to it, then it pleases,\nbecause it enhances the pleasure of variety, by giving the eye the\npower of enjoying it with ease.\n\nThere is no object composed of straight lines, that has so much\nvariety, with so few parts, as the pyramid: and it is its constantly\nvarying from its base gradually upwards in every situation of the eye,\n(without giving the idea of sameness, as the eye moves round it) that\nhas made it been esteem'd in all ages, in preference to the cone, which\nin all views appears nearly the same, being varied only by light and\nshade.\n\nSteeples, monuments, and most compositions in painting and sculpture,\nare kept within the form of the cone or pyramid, as the most eligible\nboundary on account of their simplicity and variety. For the same\nreason equestrian statues please more than the single figures.\n\nThe authors (for there were three concern'd in the work) of as fine\na group of figures in sculpture, as ever was made, either by ancients\nor moderns, (I mean Laocoon and his two sons) chose to be guilty of\nthe absurdity of making the sons of half the father's size, tho' they\nhave every other mark of being design'd for men, rather than not bring\ntheir composition within the boundary of a pyramid [Fig. 9 T p. I].\nThus if a judicious workman were employ'd to make a case of wood, for\npreserving it from the injuries of the weather, or for the convenience\nof carriage; he would soon find by his eye, the whole composition would\nreadily fit and be easily pack'd up, in one of a pyramidal form.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 9]\n\nSteeples, &c. have generally been varied from the cone, to take\noff from their too great simplicity, and instead of their circular\nbases, polygons of different, but even numbers of sides, have been\nsubstituted, I suppose for the sake of uniformity. These forms however\nmay be said to have been chosen by the architect, with a view to the\ncone, as the whole compositions might be bounded by it.\n\nYet, in my mind, odd numbers have the advantage over the even ones,\nas variety is more pleasing than uniformity, where the same end\nis answer'd by both; as in this case, where both polygons may be\ncircumscrib'd by the same circle, or in other words, both compositions\nbounded by the same cone.\n\nAnd I can't help observing, that nature in all her works of fancy, if\nI may be allow'd the expression, where it seems immaterial whether even\nor odd numbers of divisions were prefer'd, most frequently employs the\nodd; as for example, in the indenting of leaves, flowers, blossoms, &c.\n\nThe oval also, on account of its variety with simplicity, is as much\nto be prefer'd to the circle, as the triangle to the square, or the\npyramid to the cube; and this figure lessen'd at one end, like the egg,\nthereby being more varied, is singled out by the author of all variety,\nto bound the features of a beautiful face.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 10]\n\nWhen the oval has a little more of the cone added to it than the egg\nhas, it becomes more distinctly a compound of those two most simple\nvaried figures. This is the shape of the pine-apple [Fig. 10 T p. I],\nwhich nature has particularly distinguish'd by bestowing ornaments of\nrich mosaic upon it, composed of contrasted serpentine lines, and the\npips [Fig. 11 T p. I], as the gardiners call them, are still varied by\ntwo cavities and one round eminence in each.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 11]\n\nCould a more elegant simple form than this have been found; it is\nprobable that judicious architect, Sir Christopher Wren, would not\nhave chosen the pine-apples for the two terminations of the sides\nof the front of St. Paul's: and perhaps the globe and cross, tho' a\nfinely varied figure, which terminates the dome, would not have had\nthe preference of situation, if a religious motive had not been the\noccasion.\n\nThus we see simplicity gives beauty even to variety, as it makes it\nmore easily understood, and should be ever studied in the works of art,\nas it serves to prevent perplexity in forms of elegance; as will be\nshewn in the next chapter.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\n_Of INTRICACY_.\n\n\nThe active mind is ever bent to be employ'd. Pursuing is the business\nof our lives; and even abstracted from any other view, gives pleasure.\nEvery arising difficulty, that for a while attends and interrupts the\npursuit, gives a sort of spring to the mind, enhances the pleasure, and\nmakes what would else be toil and labour, become sport and recreation.\n\nWherein would consist the joys of hunting, shooting, fishing, and\nmany other favourite diversions, without the frequent turns and\ndifficulties, and disappointments, that are daily met with in the\npursuit?--how joyless does the sportsman return when the hare has not\nhad fair play? how lively, and in spirits, even when an old cunning one\nhas baffled, and out-run the dogs!\n\nThis love of pursuit, merely as pursuit, is implanted in our natures,\nand design'd, no doubt, for necessary, and useful purposes. Animals\nhave it evidently by instinct. The hound dislikes the game he so\neagerly pursues; and even cats will risk the losing of their prey to\nchase it over again. It is a pleasing labour of the mind to solve the\nmost difficult problems; allegories and riddles, trifling as they are,\nafford the mind amusement: and with what delight does it follow the\nwell-connected thread of a play, or novel, which ever increases as the\nplot thickens, and ends most pleas'd, when that is most distinctly\nunravell'd?\n\nThe eye hath this sort of enjoyment in winding walks, and serpentine\nrivers, and all sorts of objects, whose forms, as we shall see\nhereafter, are composed principally of what, I call, the _waving_ and\n_serpentine_ lines.\n\nIntricacy in form, therefore, I shall define to be that peculiarity\nin the lines, which compose it, that _leads the eye a wanton kind of\nchace_, and from the pleasure that gives the mind, intitles it to the\nname of beautiful: and it may be justly said, that the cause of the\nidea of grace more immediately resides in this principle, than in the\nother five, except variety; which indeed includes this, and all the\nothers.\n\nThat this observation may appear to have a real foundation in nature,\nevery help will be requir'd, which the reader himself can call to his\nassistance, as well as what will here be suggested to him.\n\nTo set this matter in somewhat a clearer light, the familiar instance\nof a common jack, with a circular fly, may serve our purpose better\nthan a more elegant form: preparatory to which, let the figure [Fig. 14\nT p. I] be consider'd, which represents the eye, at a common reading\ndistance viewing a row of letters, but fix'd with most attention to the\nmiddle letter A.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 14]\n\nNow as we read, a ray may be supposed to be drawn from the center of\nthe eye to that letter it looks at first, and to move successively with\nit from letter to letter, the whole length of the line: but if the eye\nstops at any particular letter, A, to observe it more than the rest,\nthese other letters will grow more and more imperfect to the sight, the\nfarther they are situated on either side of A, as is express'd in the\nfigure: and when we endeavour to see all the letters in a line equally\nperfect at one view, as it were, this imaginary ray must course it to\nand fro with great celerity. Thus though the eye, strictly speaking,\ncan only pay due attention to these letters in succession, yet the\namazing ease and swiftness, with which it performs this task, enables\nus to see considerable spaces with sufficient satisfaction at one\nsudden view.\n\nHence, we shall always suppose some such principal ray moving along\nwith the eye, and tracing out the parts of every form, we mean to\nexamine in the most perfect manner: and when we would follow with\nexactness the course any body takes, that is in motion, this ray is\nalways to be supposed to move with the body.\n\nIn this manner of attending to forms, they will be found, whether\n_at rest_, or _in motion_, to give _movement_ to this imaginary ray;\nor, more properly speaking, to the eye itself, affecting it _thereby_\nmore or less _pleasingly_, according to their different _shapes_ and\n_motions_. Thus, for example, in the instance of the jack, whether the\neye (with this imaginary ray) moves slowly down the line, to which the\nweight is fix'd, or attends to the slow motion of the weight itself,\nthe mind is equally fatigu'd: and whether it swiftly courses round the\ncircular rim of the flyer, when the jack stands; or nimbly follows one\npoint in its circularity whilst it is whirling about, we are almost\nequally made giddy by it. But our sensation differs much from either\nof these unpleasant ones, when we observe the curling worm, into which\nthe worm-wheel is fixt [Fig. 15 L p. I]: for this is always pleasing,\neither at rest or in motion, and whether that motion is slow or quick.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 15]\n\nThat it is accounted so, when it is _at rest_, appears by the ribbon,\ntwisted round a stick (represented on one side of this figure) which\nhas been a long-establish'd ornament in the carvings of frames,\nchimney-pieces, and door-cases; and call'd by the carvers, _the stick\nand ribbon ornament_: and when the stick, through the middle is\nomitted, it is call'd the _ribbon edge_; both to be seen in almost\nevery house of fashion.\n\nBut the pleasure it gives the eye is still more lively when _in\nmotion_. I never can forget my frequent strong attention to it, when I\nwas very young, and that its beguiling movement gave me the same kind\nof sensation then, which I since have felt at seeing a country-dance;\ntho' perhaps the latter might be somewhat more engaging; particularly\nwhen my eye eagerly pursued a favourite dancer, through all the\nwindings of the figure, who then was bewitching to the sight, as the\nimaginary ray, we were speaking of, was dancing with her all the time.\n\nThis single example might be sufficient to explain what I mean by _the\nbeauty of a composed intricacy of form_; and how it may be said, with\npropriety, to _lead_ the eye a _kind of chace_.\n\nBut the hair of the head is another very obvious instance, which, being\ndesign'd chiefly as an ornament, proves more or less so, according to\nthe form it naturally takes, or is put into by art. The most amiable in\nitself is the flowing curl; and the many waving and contrasted turns\nof naturally intermingling locks ravish the eye with the pleasure of\nthe pursuit, especially when they are put in motion by a gentle breeze.\nThe poet knows it, as well as the painter, and has described the wanton\nringlets waving in the wind.\n\nAnd yet to shew how excess ought to be avoided in intricacy, as well\nas in every other principle, the very same head of hair, wisp'd, and\nmatted together, would make the most disagreeable figure; because\nthe eye would be perplex'd, and at a fault, and unable to trace\nsuch a confused number of uncomposed and entangled lines; and yet\nnotwithstanding this, the present fashion the ladies have gone into, of\nwearing a part of the hair of their heads braided together from behind,\nlike intertwisted serpents, arising thickest from the bottom, lessening\nas it is brought forward, and naturally conforming to the shape of the\nrest of the hair it is pin'd over, is extremely picturesque. Their thus\ninterlacing the hair in distinct varied quantities is an artful way of\npreserving as much of intricacy, as is beautiful.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\n_Of QUANTITY_.\n\n\nForms of magnitude, although ill-shaped, will however, on account of\ntheir vastness, draw our attention and raise our admiration.\n\nHuge shapeless rocks have a pleasing kind of horror in them, and the\nwide ocean awes us with its vast contents; but when forms of beauty are\npresented to the eye in large quantities, the pleasure increases on the\nmind, and horror is soften'd into reverence.\n\nHow solemn and pleasing are groves of high grown trees, great churches,\nand palaces? has not even a single spreading oak, grown to maturity,\nacquir'd the character of the venerable oak?\n\nWindsor castle is a noble instance of the effect of quantity. The\nhugeness of its few distinct parts strikes the eye with uncommon\ngrandeur at a distance, as well as nigh. It is quantity, with\nsimplicity, which makes it one of the finest objects in the kingdom,\ntho' void of any regular order of architecture.\n\nThe Fa\u00e7ade of the old Louvre at Paris is also remarkable for its\nquantity. This fragment is allow'd to be the finest piece of building\nin France, tho' there are many equal, if not superior, to it in all\nother respects, except that of quantity.\n\nWho does not feel a pleasure when he pictures in his mind the immense\nbuildings which once adorn'd the lower Egypt, by imagining the whole\ncomplete, and ornamented with colossal statues?\n\nElephants and whales please us with their unwieldy greatness. Even\nlarge personages, merely for being so, command respect: nay, quantity\nis an addition to the person which often supplies a deficiency in his\nfigure.\n\nThe robes of state are always made large and full, because they give\na grandeur of appearance, suitable to the offices of the greatest\ndistinction. The judge's robes have an awful dignity given them by the\nquantity of their contents, and when the train is held up, there is a\nnoble waving line descending from the shoulders of the judge to the\nhand of his train-bearer. So when the train is gently thrown aside, it\ngenerally falls into a great variety of folds, which again employ the\neye, and fix its attention.\n\nThe grandeur of the Eastern dress, which so far surpasses the European,\ndepends as much on quantity as on costliness.\n\nIn a word, it is quantity which adds greatness to grace. But then\nexcess is to be avoided, or quantity will become clumsy, heavy, or\nridiculous.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 16]\n\nThe full-bottom wig, like the lion's mane, hath something noble in\nit, and adds not only dignity, but sagacity to the countenance [fig.\n16 p. I]: but were it to be worn as large again, it would become a\nburlesque; or were an improper person to put it on, it would then too\nbe ridiculous.\n\n\nWhen improper, or _incompatible_ excesses meet, they always excite\nlaughter; more especially when the forms of those excesses are\ninelegant, that is, when they are composed of unvaried lines.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 17 and 18]\n\nFor example, the figure refer'd to in the margin [Fig. 17 p. I],\nrepresents a fat grown face of a man, with an infant's cap on, and the\nrest of the child's dress stuff'd, and so well placed under his chin,\nas to seem to belong to that face. This is a contrivance I have seen at\nBartholomew-fair, and always occasion'd a roar of laughter. The next\n[Fig. 18 p. I] is of the same kind, a child with a man's wig and cap\non. In these you see the ideas of youth and age jumbled together, in\nforms without beauty.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 19]\n\nSo a Roman general [Fig. 19 p. I], dress'd by a modern tailor and\nperuke-maker, for tragedy, is a comic figure.----The dresses of the\ntimes are mix'd, and the lines which compose them are straight or only\nround.\n\nDancing-masters, representing deities, in their grand ballets on the\nstage, are no less ridiculous. See the Jupiter [Fig. 20 p. I].\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 20]\n\nNevertheless custom and fashion will, in length of time, reconcile\nalmost every absurdity whatever, to the eye, or make it over-look'd.\n\nIt is from the same joining of opposite ideas that makes us laugh at\nthe owl and the ass, for under their aukward forms, they seem to be\ngravely musing and meditating, as if they had the sense of human beings.\n\nA monkey too whose figure, as well as most of his actions, so odly\nresembles the human, is also very comical; and he becomes more so when\na coat is put on him, as he then becomes a greater burlesque on the man.\n\nThere is something extremely odd and comical in the rough shock dog.\nThe ideas here connected are the inelegant and inanimate figure of a\nthrum mop, or muff, and that of a sensible, friendly animal; which is\nas much a burlesque of the dog, as the monkey when his coat is on, is\nof the man.\n\nWhat can it be but this inelegance of the figure, join'd with\nimpropriety, that makes a whole audience burst into laughter, when they\nsee the miller's sack, in Dr. Faustus, jumping across the stage? was\na well-shap'd vase to do the same, it would equally surprise, but not\nmake every body laugh, because the elegance of the form would prevent\nit.\n\nFor when the forms, thus join'd together, are each of them elegant,\nand composed of agreeable lines, they will be so far from making us\nlaugh, that they will become entertaining to the imagination, as\nwell as pleasing to the eye. The sphinx and siren have been admired\nand accounted ornamental in all ages. The former represents strength\nand beauty join'd; the latter, beauty and swiftness, in pleasing and\ngraceful forms.\n\nThe griffin, a modern hieroglyphic, signifying strength and swiftness,\nunited in the two noble forms of the lion and eagle, is a grand object.\nSo the antique centaur hath a savage greatness as well as beauty.\n\nThese may be said to be monsters, it's true, but then they convey\nsuch noble ideas, and have such elegance in their forms as greatly\ncompensates for their being unnaturally join'd together.\n\nI shall mention but one more instance of this sort, and that the most\nextraordinary of all, which is an infant's head of about two years old,\nwith a pair of duck's-wings placed under its chin, supposed always to\nbe flying about, and singing psalms [Fig. 22 R p. I].\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 22]\n\nA painter's representation of heaven would be nothing without swarms\nof these little inconsistent objects, flying about, or perching on the\nclouds; and yet there is something so agreeable in their form, that the\neye is reconciled and overlooks the absurdity, and we find them in the\ncarving and painting of almost every church. St. Paul's is full of them.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAs the foregoing principles are the very ground work of what is to\nfollow; we will, in order to make them the more familiar to us, just\nspeak of them in the way they are daily put in practice, and may be\nseen, in every dress that is worn; and we shall find not only that\nladies of fashion, but that women of every rank, who are said to\ndress prettily, have known their force, without considering them as\nprinciples.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nI. Fitness is first considered by them, as knowing that their dresses\nshould be useful, commodious, and fitted to their different ages; or\nrich, airy, and loose, agreeable to the character they would give out\nto the public by their dress.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nII. Uniformity is chiefly complied with in dress on account of fitness,\nand seems to be extended not much farther than dressing both arms\nalike, and having the shoes of the same colour. For when any part of\ndress has not the excuse of fitness or propriety for its uniformity of\nparts, the ladies always call it _formal_.\n\nFor which reason, when they are at liberty to make what shapes they\nplease in ornamenting their persons, those of the best taste choose the\nirregular as the more engaging: for example, no two patches are ever\nchosen of the same size, or placed at the same height; nor a single one\nin the middle of a feature, unless it be to hide a blemish. So a single\nfeather, flower, or jewel is generally placed on one side of the head;\nor if ever put in front, it is turn'd awry to avoid formality.\n\nIt was once the fashion to have two curls of equal size, stuck at the\nsame height close upon the forehead, which probably took its rise from\nseeing the pretty effect of curls falling loosely over the face.\n\nA lock of hair falling thus cross the temples, and by that means\nbreaking the regularity of the oval, has an effect too alluring to be\nstrictly decent, as is very well known to the loose and lowest class of\nwomen: but being pair'd in so stiff a manner, as they formerly were,\nthey lost the desired effect, and ill deserv'd the name of favourites.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIII. Variety in dress, both as to colour and form, is the constant\nstudy of the young and gay----But then,\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIV. That taudriness may not destroy the proper effect of variety,\nsimplicity is call'd in to restrain its superfluities, and is often\nvery artfully made use of to set native beauty off to more advantage.\nI have not known any set of people, that have more excell'd in this\nprinciple of simplicity, or plainness, than the Quakers.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nV. Quantity, or fulness in dress has ever been a darling principle;\nso that sometimes those parts of dress, which would properly admit of\nbeing extended to a great degree, have been carried into such strange\nexcesses, that in the reign of Queen Elizabeth a law was made to put a\nstop to the growth of ruffs: nor is the enormous size of the hoops at\npresent, a less sufficient proof of the extraordinary love of quantity\nin dress, beyond that of convenience or elegance.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nVI. The beauty of intricacy lies in contriving winding shapes, such as\nthe antique lappets belonging to the head of the sphinx [Fig. 21 p. I],\nor as the modern lappet when it is brought before. Every part of dress,\nthat will admit of the application of this principle, has an air (as it\nis term'd) given to it thereby; and altho' it requires dexterity and a\ntaste to execute these windings well, we find them daily practised with\nsuccess.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 21]\n\nThis principle also recommends modesty in dress, to keep up our\nexpectations, and not suffer them to be too soon gratified. Therefore\nthe body and limbs should all be cover'd, and little more than certain\nhints be given of them thro' the cloathing.\n\nThe face indeed will bear a constant view, yet always entertain and\nkeep our curiosity awake, without the assistance either of a mask, or\nveil; because vast variety of changing circumstances keeps the eye\nand the mind in constant play, in following the numberless turns of\nexpression it is capable of. How soon does a face that wants expression\ngrow insipid, tho' it be ever so pretty?--The rest of the body, not\nhaving these advantages in common with the face, would soon satiate the\neye, were it to be as constantly exposed, nor would it have more effect\nthan a marble statue. But when it is artfully cloath'd and decorated,\nthe mind at every turn resumes its imaginary pursuits concerning it.\nThus, if I may be allow'd a simile, the angler chooses not to see the\nfish he angles for, until it is fairly caught.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\n_Of LINES_.\n\n\nIt may be remember'd that in the introduction, the reader is desired to\nconsider the surfaces of objects as so many shells of lines, closely\nconnected together, which idea of them it will now be proper to call to\nmind, for the better comprehending not only this, but all the following\nchapters on composition.\n\nThe constant use made of lines by mathematicians, as well as painters,\nin describing things upon paper, hath establish'd a conception of them,\nas if actually existing on the real forms themselves. This likewise\nwe suppose, and shall set out with saying in general--That _the\nstraight line_, and _the circular line_, together with their different\ncombinations, and variations, &c. bound, and circumscribe all visible\nobjects whatsoever, thereby producing such endless variety of forms, as\nlays us under the necessity of dividing, and distinguishing them into\ngeneral classes; leaving the intervening mixtures of appearances to the\nreader's own farther observation.\n\nFirst, [Fig. 23 T p. I] objects composed of straight lines only, as\nthe cube, or of circular lines, as the sphere, or of both together, as\ncylinders and cones, &c.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 23]\n\nSecondly, [Fig. 24 T p. I] those composed of straight lines, circular\nlines, and of lines partly straight, and partly circular, as the\ncapitals of columns, and vases, &c.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 24]\n\nThirdly, [Fig. 25 T p. I] those composed of all the former together\nwith an addition of the waving line, which is a line more productive of\nbeauty than any of the former, as in flowers, and other forms of the\nornamental kind: for which reason we shall call it the line of beauty.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 25]\n\nFourthly, [Fig. 26 T p. I] those composed of all the former together\nwith the serpentine line, as the human form, which line hath the power\nof super-adding grace to beauty. Note, forms of most grace have least\nof the straight line in them.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 26]\n\nIt is to be observed, that straight lines vary only in length, and\ntherefore are least ornamental.\n\nThat curved lines as they can be varied in their degrees of curvature\nas well as in their lengths, begin on that account to be ornamental.\n\nThat straight and curv'd lines join'd, being a compound line, vary more\nthan curves alone, and so become somewhat more ornamental.\n\nThat the waving line, or line of beauty, varying still more, being\ncomposed of two curves contrasted, becomes still more ornamental and\npleasing, insomuch that the hand takes a lively movement in making it\nwith pen or pencil.\n\nAnd that the serpentine line, by its waving and winding at the same\ntime different ways, leads the eye in a pleasing manner along the\ncontinuity of its variety, if I may be allowed the expression; and\nwhich by its twisting so many different ways, may be said to inclose\n(tho' but a single line) varied contents; and therefore all its\nvariety cannot be express'd on paper by one continued line, without\nthe assistance of the imagination, or the help of a figure; see [Fig.\n26 T p. I] where that sort of proportion'd, winding line, which will\nhereafter be call'd the precise serpentine line, or _line of grace_,\nis represented by a fine wire, properly twisted round the elegant and\nvaried figure of a cone.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\n_Of what sort of PARTS, and how PLEASING FORMS are composed_.\n\n\nThus far having endeavoured to open as large an idea as possible of the\npower of variety, by having partly shewn that those lines which have\nmost variety in themselves, contribute most towards the production of\nbeauty; we will next shew how lines may be put together, so as to make\npleasing figures or compositions.\n\nIn order to be as clear as possible, we will give a few examples of\nthe most familiar and easy sort, and let them serve as a clue to be\npursued in the imagination: I say in the imagination chiefly, for the\nfollowing method is not meant always to be put in practice, or follow'd\nin every case, for indeed that could hardly be, and in some it would be\nridiculously losing time if it could----Yet there may be cases where\nit may be necessary to follow this method minutely; as for example, in\narchitecture.\n\nI am thoroughly convinc'd in myself, however it may startle some, that\na completely new and harmonious order of architecture in all its parts,\nmight be produced by the following method of composing, but hardly with\ncertainty without it; and this I am the more apt to believe, as upon\nthe strictest examination, those four orders of the ancients, which are\nso well established for beauty and true proportion, perfectly agree\nwith the scheme we shall now lay down.\n\nThis way of composing pleasing forms, is to be accomplished by making\nchoice of variety of lines, as to their shapes and dimensions; and then\nagain by varying their situations with each other, by all the different\nways that can be conceived: and at the same time (if a solid figure be\nthe subject of the composition) the contents or space that is to be\ninclosed within those lines, must be duly consider'd and vary'd too, as\nmuch as possible, with propriety. In a word, it may be said, the art of\ncomposing well is the art of varying well. It is not expected that this\nshould at first be perfectly comprehended, yet I believe it will be\nmade sufficiently clear by the help of the examples following.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 29]\n\nThe figure [Fig. 29 T p. I], represents the simple and pleasing figure\nof a bell; this shell, as we may call it, is composed of waving lines,\nencompassing, or bounding within it, the varied space marked with\ndotted lines: here you see the variety of the space within is equal to\nthe beauty of its form without, and if the space, or contents, were to\nbe more varied, the outward form would have still more beauty.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 30, 31 and 32]\n\nAs a proof, see a composition of more parts, and a way by which those\nparts may be put together by a certain method of varying: i. e. how the\none half of the socket of the candlestick A [Fig. 30 T p. I], may be\nvaried as the other half B. Let a convenient and fit height be first\ngiven for a candlestick, as [Fig. 31 T p. I], then let the necessary\nsize of the socket be determined, as at (a) [Fig. 32] after which,\nin order to give it a better form, let every _distance_ or length of\ndivisions differ from the length of the socket, as also vary in their\ndistances from each other, as is seen by the points on the line under\nthe socket (a); that is let any two points, _signifying distance_, be\nplac'd farthest from any other two near points, observing always that\nthere should be one distance or part larger than all the rest; and you\nwill readily see that variety could not be so complete without it.--In\nlike manner, let the horizontal distances (always keeping within the\nbounds of fitness) be varied both as to distances and situations, as\non the opposite side of the same figure (b); then unite and join all\nthe several distances into a complete shell, by applying several parts\nof curves and straight lines; varying them also by making them of\ndifferent sizes, as (c): and apply them as at (d) in the same figure,\nand you have the candlestick [Fig. 33 T p. I], and with still more\nvariations on the other side. If you divide the candlestick into many\nmore parts, it will appear crouded, as [Fig. 34 T p. I] it will want\ndistinctness of form on a near view, and lose the effect of variety at\na distance: this the eye will easily distinguish on removing pretty far\nfrom it.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 33 and 34]\n\nSimplicity in composition, or distinctness of parts, is ever to be\nattended to, as it is one part of beauty, as has been already said: but\nthat what I mean by distinctness of parts in this place, may be better\nunderstood, it will be proper to explain it by an example.\n\nWhen you would compose an object of a great variety of parts, let\nseveral of those parts be distinguish'd by themselves, by their\nremarkable difference from the next adjoining, so as to make each of\nthem, as it were, one well-shap'd quantity or part, as is marked by\nthe dotted lines in figure [35 T p. I] (these are like what they call\npassages in music, and in writing paragraphs) by which means, not only\nthe whole, but even every part, will be better understood by the eye:\nfor confusion will hereby be avoided when the object is seen near, and\nthe shapes will seem well varied, tho' fewer in number, at a distance;\nas figure [36 p. I] supposed to be the same as the former, but removed\nso far off that the eye loses sight of the smaller members.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 35 and 36]\n\nThe parsley-leaf [Fig. 37 T p. I], in like manner, from whence a\nbeautiful foliage in ornament was originally taken, is divided into\nthree distinct passages; which are again divided into other odd\nnumbers; and this method is observ'd, for the generality, in the leaves\nof all plants and flowers, the most simple of which are the trefoil and\ncinquefoil.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 37]\n\nLight and shade, and colours, also must have their distinctness to\nmake objects completely beautiful: but of these in their proper\nplaces----only I will give you a general idea of what is here meant by\nthe beauty of distinctness of forms, lights, shades, and colours, by\nputting you in mind of the reverse effects in all them together.\n\nObserve the well-composed nosegay how it loses all its distinctness\nwhen it dies; each leaf and flower then shrivels and loses its distinct\nshape; and the firm colours fade into a kind of sameness: so that the\nwhole gradually becomes a confused heap.\n\nIf the general parts of objects are preserv'd large at first, they will\nalways admit of farther enrichments of a small kind, but then they must\nbe so small as not to confound the general masses or quantities.--thus\nyou see variety is a check upon itself when overdone, which of course\nbegets what is call'd a _petit taste_ and a confusion to the eye.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 38 and 39]\n\nIt will not be amiss next to shew what effects an object or two\nwill have that are put together without, or contrary to these rules\nof composing variety. Figure [38 L p. I], is taken from one of those\nbranches fixt to the sides of common old-fashion'd stove-grates by way\nof ornament, wherein you see how the parts have been varied by fancy\nonly, and yet pretty well: close to which [Fig. 39 L p. I] is another,\nwith about the like number of parts; but as the shapes, neither are\nenough varied as to their contents, nor in their situations with each\nother, but one shape follows its exact likeness: it is therefore\na disagreeable and tasteless figure, and for the same reason the\ncandlestick, fig. [40 T p. I] is still worse, as there is less variety\nin it. Nay, it would be better to be quite plain, as figure [41 T p.\nI], than with such poor attempts at ornament.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 40, 41 and 42]\n\nThese few examples, well understood, will, I imagine, be sufficient\nto put what was said at the beginning of this chapter out of all\ndoubt, viz. that _the art of composing well_ is no more than the _art\nof varying well_; and to shew, that the method which has been here\nexplain'd, must consequently produce a pleasing proportion amongst\nthe parts; as well as that all deviations from it will produce the\ncontrary. Yet to strengthen this latter assertion, let the following\nfigures, taken from the life, be examin'd by the above rules for\ncomposing, and it will be found that the Indian-fig or torch-thistle,\nfigure [42 T p. I], as well as all that tribe of uncouth shaped\nexotics, have the same reasons for being ugly, as the candlestick, fig.\n40; as also that the beauties of the Lily [Fig. 43 T p. I] and the\ncalcidonian Iris [Fig. 44 T p. I] proceeds from their being composed\nwith great variety, and that the loss of variety, to a certain degree,\nin the imitations of those flowers underneath them (fig. 45 and 46) is\nthe cause of the meanness of their shapes, tho' they retain enough to\nbe call'd by the same names.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 43 and 44]\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 45 and 46]\n\nHitherto, with regard to composition, little else but forms made up of\nstraight and curv'd lines have been spoken of, and though these lines\nhave but little variety in themselves, yet by reason of the great\ndiversifications that they are capable of in being join'd with one\nanother; great variety of beauty of the more useful sort is produced\nby them, as in necessary utensils and building: but in my opinion,\nbuildings as I before hinted, might be much more varied than they are,\nfor after _fitness_ hath been strictly and mechanically complied with,\nany additional ornamental members, or parts, may, by the foregoing\nrules, be varied with equal elegance; nor can I help thinking, but that\nchurches, palaces, hospitals, prisons, common houses and summer houses,\nmight be built more in distinct characters than they are, by contriving\norders suitable to each; whereas were a modern architect to build a\npalace in Lapland, or the West-Indies, Paladio must be his guide, nor\nwould he dare to stir a step without his book.\n\nHave not many gothic buildings a great deal of consistent beauty\nin them? perhaps acquired by a series of improvements made from\ntime to time by the natural persuasion of the eye, which often very\nnear answers the end of working by principles; and sometimes begets\nthem. There is at present such a thirst after variety, that even\npaltry imitations of Chinese buildings have a kind of vogue, chiefly\non account of their novelty: but not only these, but any other\nnew-invented characters of building might be regulated by proper\nprinciples. The mere ornaments of buildings, to be sure, at least might\nbe allow'd a greater latitude than they are at present; as capitals,\nfrizes, &c. in order to increase the beauty of variety.\n\nNature, in shells and flowers, &c. affords an infinite choice of\nelegant hints for this purpose; as the original of the Corinthian\ncapital was taken from nothing more, as is said, than some dock-leaves\ngrowing up against a basket. Even a capital composed of the aukward and\nconfin'd forms of hats and periwigs, as fig. [48 p. I] in a skilful\nhand might be made to have some beauty.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 48]\n\nHowever, tho' the moderns have not made many additions to the art of\nbuilding, with respect to mere beauty or ornament, yet it must be\nconfess'd, they have carried simplicity, convenience, and neatness of\nworkmanship, to a very great degree of perfection, particularly in\nEngland; where plain good sense hath prefer'd these more necessary\nparts of beauty, which every body can understand, to that richness of\ntaste which is so much to be seen in other countries, and so often\nsubstituted in their room.\n\nSt. Paul's cathedral is one of the noblest instances that can be\nproduced of the most judicious application of every principle that\nhas been spoken of. There you may see the utmost variety without\nconfusion, simplicity without nakedness, richness without taudriness,\ndistinctness without hardness, and quantity without excess. Whence the\neye is entertain'd throughout with the charming variety of all its\nparts together; the noble projecting quantity of a certain number of\nthem, which presents bold and distinct parts at a distance, when the\nlesser parts within them disappear; and the grand few, but remarkably\nwell-varied parts that continue to please the eye as long as the\nobject is discernable, are evident proofs of the superior skill of Sir\nChristopher Wren, so justly esteem'd the prince of architects.\n\nIt will scarcely admit of a dispute, that the outside of this building\nis much more perfect than that of St. Peter's at Rome: but the inside,\nthough as fine and noble, as the space it stands on, and our religion\nwill allow of, must give way to the splendor, shew, and magnificence\nof that of St. Peter's, on account of the sculptures and paintings, as\nwell as the greater magnitude of the whole, which makes it excel as to\nquantity.\n\nThere are many other churches of great beauty, the work of the same\narchitect, which are hid in the heart of the city, whose steeples\nand spires are raised higher than ordinary, that they may be seen at\na distance above the other buildings; and the great number of them\ndispers'd about the whole city, adorn the prospect of it, and give it\nan air of opulence and magnificence: on which account their shapes will\nbe found to be particularly beautiful. Of these, and perhaps of any in\nEurope, St. Mary-le-Bow is the most elegantly varied. St. Bride's in\nFleet-street diminishes sweetly by elegant degrees, but its variations,\ntho' very curious when you are near them, not being quite so bold, and\ndistinct, as those of Bow, it too soon looses variety at a distance.\nSome gothic spires are finely and artfully varied, particularly the\nfamous steeple of Strasburg.\n\nWestminster-Abbey is a good contrast to St. Paul's, with regard to\nsimplicity and distinctness, the great number of its filligrean\nornaments, and small divided and subdivided parts appear confused\nwhen nigh, and are totally lost at a moderate distance; yet there is\nnevertheless such a consistency of parts altogether in a good gothic\ntaste, and such propriety relative to the gloomy ideas, they were then\ncalculated to convey, that they have at length acquir'd an establish'd\nand distinct character in building. It would be look'd upon as an\nimpropriety and as a kind of profanation to build places for mirth and\nentertainment in the same taste.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\n_Of COMPOSITION with the WAVING-LINE_.\n\n\nThere is scarce a room in any house whatever, where one does not see\nthe waving-line employ'd in some way or other. How inelegant would\nthe shapes of all our moveables be without it? how very plain and\nunornamental the mouldings of cornices, and chimney-pieces, without the\nvariety introduced by the _ogee_ member, which is entirely composed of\nwaving-lines.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 49 and 50]\n\nThough all sorts of waving-lines are ornamental, when properly applied;\nyet, strictly speaking, there is but one precise line, properly to be\ncalled the line of _beauty_, which in the scale of them [Fig. 49 T p.\nI] is number 4: the lines 5, 6, 7, by their bulging too much in their\ncurvature becoming gross and clumsy; and, on the contrary, 3, 2, 1, as\nthey straighten, becoming mean and poor; as will appear in the next\nfigure [50 T p. I] where they are applied to the legs of chairs.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 53]\n\nA still more perfect idea of the effects of the precise waving-line,\nand of those lines that deviate from it, may be conceived by the row\nof stays, figure [53 B p. I], where number 4 is composed of precise\nwaving-lines, and is therefore the best shaped stay. Every whale-bone\nof a good stay must be made to bend in this manner: for the whole\nstay, when put close together behind, is truly a shell of well-varied\ncontents, and its surface of course a fine form; so that if a line, or\nthe lace were to be drawn, or brought from the top of the lacing of\nthe stay behind, round the body, and down to the bottom peak of the\nstomacher; it would form such a perfect, precise, serpentine-line,\nas has been shewn, round the cone, figure 26 in plate I.----For this\nreason all ornaments obliquely contrasting the body in this manner,\nas the ribbons worn by the knights of the garter, are both genteel\nand graceful. The numbers 5, 6, 7 and 3, 2, 1, are deviations into\nstiffness and meanness on one hand, and clumsiness and deformity on the\nother. The reasons for which disagreeable effects, after what has been\nalready said, will be evident to the meanest capacity.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 26]\n\nIt may be worth our notice however, that the stay, number 2, would\nbetter fit a well-shaped man than number 4; and that number 4, would\nbetter fit a well-form'd woman, than number 2; and when on considering\nthem, merely as to their forms, and comparing them together as you\nwould two vases, it has been shewn by our principles, how much finer\nand more beautiful number 4 is, than number 2: does not this our\ndetermination enhance the merit of these principles, as it proves at\nthe same time how much the form of a woman's body surpasses in beauty\nthat of a man?\n\nFrom the examples that have been given, enough may be gathered to carry\non our observations from them to any other objects that may chance to\ncome in our way, either animate or inanimate; so that we may not only\n_lineally_ account for the ugliness of the toad, the hog, the bear, and\nthe spider, which are totally void of this waving-line, but also for\nthe different degrees of beauty belonging to those objects that possess\nit.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\n_Of COMPOSITIONS with the SERPENTINE-LINE_.\n\n\nThe very great difficulty there is in describing this line, either in\nwords, or by the pencil (as was hinted before, when I first mention'd\nit) will make it necessary for me to proceed very slowly in what I have\nto say in this chapter, and to beg the reader's patience whilst I lead\nhim step by step into the knowledge of what I think the sublime in\nform, so remarkably display'd in the human body; in which, I believe,\nwhen he is once acquainted with the idea of them, he will find this\nspecies of lines to be principally concern'd.\n\nFirst, then, let him consider fig. [56 B p. II], which represents a\nstraight horn, with its contents, and he will find, as it varies like\nthe cone, it is a form of some beauty, merely on that account.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 56]\n\nNext let him observe in what manner, and in what degree the beauty of\nthis horn is increas'd, in fig. [57 B p. II], where it is supposed to\nbe bent two different ways.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 57]\n\nAnd lastly, let him attend to the vast increase of beauty, even to\ngrace and elegance, in the same horn, fig. [58 B p. II], where it is\nsupposed to have been twisted round, at the same time, that it was bent\ntwo different ways, (as in the last figure).\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 58]\n\nIn the first of these figures, the dotted line down the middle\nexpresses the straight lines of which it is composed; which, without\nthe assistance of curve lines, or light and shade, would hardly shew it\nto have contents.\n\nThe same is true of the second, tho' by the bending of the horn, the\nstraight dotted line is changed into the beautiful waving-line.\n\nBut in the last, this dotted line, by the twisting as well as\nthe bending of the horn, is changed from the waving into the\nserpentine-line; which, as it dips out of sight behind the horn in the\nmiddle, and returns again at the smaller end, not only gives play to\nthe imagination, and delights the eye, on that account; but informs it\nlikewise of the quantity and variety of the contents.\n\nI have chosen this simple example, as the easiest way of giving a plain\nand general idea of the peculiar qualities of these serpentine-lines,\nand the advantages of bringing them into compositions, where the\ncontents you are to express, admit of grace and elegance.\n\nAnd I beg the same things may be understood of these serpentine-lines,\nthat I have said before of the waving-lines. For as among the vast\nvariety of waving-lines that may be conceiv'd, there is but one that\ntruly deserves the name of _the line of beauty_, so there is only one\nprecise serpentine-line that I call _the line of grace_. Yet, even when\nthey are made too bulging, or too tapering, though they certainly lose\nof their beauty and grace, they do not become so wholly void of it,\nas not to be of excellent service in compositions, where beauty and\ngrace are not particularly design'd to be express'd in their greatest\nperfection.\n\nThough I have distinguish'd these lines so particularly as to give\nthem the titles of _the lines of beauty and grace_, I mean that the\nuse and application of them should still be confined by the principles\nI have laid down for composition in general; and that they should be\njudiciously mixt and combined with one another, and even with those\nI may term _plain_ lines, (in opposition to these) as the subject in\nhand requires. Thus the cornu-copia, fig. [59 B p. II], is twisted\nand bent after the same manner, as the last figure of the horn; but\nmore ornamented, and with a greater number of other lines of the same\ntwisted kind, winding round it with as quick returns as those of a\nscrew.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 59]\n\nThis sort of form may be seen with yet more variations, (and therefore\nmore beautiful) in the goat's horn, from which, in all probability, the\nancients originally took the extremely elegant forms they have given\ntheir cornu-copias.\n\nThere is another way of considering this last figure of the horn I\nwould recommend to my reader, in order to give him a clearer idea of\nthe use both of the waving and serpentine-lines in composition.\n\nThis is to imagine the horn, thus bent and twisted, to be cut\nlength-ways by a very fine saw into two equal parts; and to observe\none of these in the same position the whole horn is represented in;\nand these two observations will naturally occur to him. First, that\nthe edge of the saw must run from one end to the other of the horn\nin the line of beauty; so that the edges of this half of the horn\nwill have a beautiful shape: and, secondly, that wherever the dotted\nserpentine-line on the surface of the whole horn dips behind, and is\nlost to the eye, it immediately comes into sight on the hollow surface\nof the divided horn.\n\nThe use I shall make of these observations will appear very\nconsiderable in the application of them to the human form, which we are\nnext to attempt.\n\nIt will be sufficient, therefore, at present only to observe, first,\nthat the whole horn acquires a beauty by its being thus genteely bent\ntwo different ways; secondly, that whatever lines are drawn on its\nexternal surface become graceful, as they must all of them, from the\ntwist that is given the horn, partake in some degree or other, of the\nshape of the serpentine-line: and, lastly, when the horn is split, and\nthe inner, as well as the outward surface of its shell-like form is\nexposed, the eye is peculiarly entertained and relieved in the pursuit\nof these serpentine-lines, as in their twistings their concavities\nand convexities are alternately offer'd to its view. Hollow forms,\ntherefore, composed of such lines are extremely beautiful and pleasing\nto the eye; in many cases more so, than those of solid bodies.\n\nAlmost all the muscles, and bones, of which the human form is\ncomposed, have more, or less of these kind of twists in them; and give\nin a less degree, the same kind of appearance to the parts which cover\nthem, and are the immediate object of the eye: and for this reason it\nis that I have been so particular in describing these forms of the\nbent, and twisted, and ornamented horn.\n\nThere is scarce a straight bone in the whole body. Almost all of\nthem are not only bent different ways, but have a kind of twist,\nwhich in some of them is very graceful; and the muscles annex'd\nto them, tho' they are of various shapes, appropriated to their\nparticular uses, generally have their component fibres running in\nthese serpentine-lines, surrounding and conforming themselves to the\nvaried shape of the bones they belong to: more especially in the limbs.\nAnatomists are so satisfied of this, that they take a pleasure in\ndistinguishing their several beauties. I shall only instance in the\nthigh-bone, and those about the hips.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 64 and 62]\n\nThe thigh-bone fig. [62 R p. II], has the waving and twisted turn\nof the horn, 58: but the beautiful bones adjoining, call'd the ossa\ninnominata [Fig. 60 B p. II], have, with greater variety, the same\nturns and twists of that horn when it is cut; and its inner and outward\nsurfaces are exposed to the eye.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 60, 61 and 63]\n\nHow ornamental these bones appear, when the prejudice we conceive\nagainst them, as being part of a skeleton, is taken off, by adding\na little foliage to them, may be seen in fig. [61 B p. II]----such\nshell-like winding forms, mixt with foliage, twisting about them, are\nmade use of in all ornaments; a kind of composition calculated merely\nto please the eye. Divest these of their serpentine twinings, and they\nimmediately lose all grace, and return to the poor gothic taste they\nwere in an hundred years ago [Fig. 63 B p. II].\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 64 and 62]\n\nFig. [64 B p. II] is meant to represent the manner, in which most of\nthe muscles, (those of the limbs in particular) are twisted round the\nbones, and conform themselves to their length and shape; but with\nno anatomical exactness. As to the running of their fibres, some\nanatomists have compared them to skains of thread, loose in the middle,\nand tight at each end, which, when they are thus consider'd as twisted\ncontrary ways round the bone, gives the strongest idea possible of a\ncomposition of serpentine-lines.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 65, 66 and 67]\n\nOf these fine winding forms then are the muscles and bones composed,\nand which, by their varied situations with each other, become more\nintricately pleasing, and form a continued waving of winding forms from\none into the other, as may be best seen by examining a good anatomical\nfigure, part of which you have here represented, in the muscular leg\nand thigh, fig. [65 p. I]: which shews the serpentine forms and varied\nsituations of the muscles, as they appear when the skin is taken off.\nIt was drawn from a plaster of paris figure cast off nature, the\noriginal of which was prepared for the mould by Cowper, the famous\nanatomist. In this last figure, as the skin is taken off the parts are\ntoo distinctly traced by the eye, for that intricate delicacy which is\nnecessary to the utmost beauty; yet the winding figures of the muscles,\nwith the variety of their situations, must always be allow'd elegant\nforms: however, they lose in the imagination some of the beauty, which\nthey really have, by the idea of their being flayed; nevertheless,\nby what has already been shewn both of them and the bones, the human\nframe hath more of its parts composed of serpentine-lines than any\nother object in nature; which is a proof both of its superior beauty\nto all others, and, at the same time, that its beauty proceeds from\nthose lines: for although they may be required sometimes to be bulging\nin their twists, as in the thick swelling muscles of the Hercules, yet\nelegance and greatness of taste is still preserved; but when these\nlines lose so much of their twists as to become almost straight, all\nelegance of taste vanishes.\n\nThus fig. [66 p. I], was also taken from nature, and drawn in the same\nposition, but treated in a more dry, stiff, and what the painters call,\n_sticky manner_, than the nature of flesh is ever capable of appearing\nin, unless when its moisture is dryed away: it must be allowed, that\nthe parts of this figure are of as right dimensions, and as truly\nsituated, as in the former; it wants only the true twist of the lines\nto give it taste.\n\nTo prove this further, and to put the mean effect of these plain or\nunvaried lines in a stronger light, see fig. [67 p. I], where, by the\nuniform, unvaried shapes and situation of the muscles, without so much\nas a waving-line in them, it becomes so wooden a form, that he that\ncan fashion the leg of a joint-stool may carve this figure as well as\nthe best sculptor. In the same manner, divest one of the best antique\nstatues of all its serpentine winding parts, and it becomes from an\nexquisite piece of art, a figure of such ordinary lines and unvaried\ncontents, that a common stone-mason or carpenter, with the help of his\nrule, calipers, and compasses, might carve out an exact imitation of\nit: and were it not for these lines a turner, in his lathe, might turn\na much finer neck than that of the grecian Venus, as according to the\ncommon notion of a beautiful neck, it would be more truly round. For\nthe same reason, legs much swoln with disease, are as easy to imitate\nas a post, having lost their _drawing_, as the painters call it; that\nis, having their serpentine-lines all effaced, by the skin's being\nequally puffed up, as figure [68].\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 68]\n\nIf in comparing these three figures one with another, the reader,\nnotwithstanding the prejudice his imagination may have conceiv'd\nagainst them, as anatomical figures, has been enabled only to perceive\nthat one of them is not so disagreeable as the others; he will easily\nbe led to see further, that this tendency to beauty in one, is not\nowing to any greater degree of exactness in the _proportions_ of its\nparts, but merely to the more _pleasing turns, and intertwistings of\nthe lines,_ which compose its external form; for in all the three\nfigures the same proportions have been observ'd, and, on that account,\nthey have all an equal claim to beauty.\n\nAnd if he pursues this anatomical enquiry but a very little further,\njust to form a true idea of the elegant use that is made of the\nskin and fat beneath it, to conceal from the eye all that is hard\nand disagreeable, and at the same time to preserve to it whatever\nis necessary in the shapes of the parts beneath, to give grace and\nbeauty to the whole limb: he will find himself insensibly led into the\nprinciples of that grace and beauty which is to be found in well-turn'd\nlimbs, in fine, elegant, healthy life, or in those of the best\nantique statues; as well as into the reason why his eye has so often\nunknowingly been pleased and delighted with them.\n\nThus, in all other parts of the body, as well as these, wherever, for\nthe sake of the necessary motion of the parts, with proper strength\nand agility, the insertions of the muscles are too hard and sudden,\ntheir swellings too bold, or the hollows between them too deep, for\ntheir out-lines to be beautiful; nature most judiciously softens these\nhardnesses, and plumps up these vacancies with a proper supply of fat,\nand covers the whole with the soft, smooth, springy, and, in delicate\nlife, almost transparent skin, which, conforming itself to the external\nshape of all the parts beneath, expresses to the eye the idea of its\ncontents with the utmost delicacy of beauty and grace.\n\nThe skin, therefore, thus tenderly embracing, and gently conforming\nitself to the varied shapes of every one of the outward muscles of the\nbody, soften'd underneath by the fat, where, otherwise, the same hard\nlines and furrows would appear, as we find come on with age in the\nface, and with labour, in the limbs, is evidently a shell-like surface\n(to keep up the idea I set out with) form'd with the utmost delicacy\nin nature; and therefore the most proper subject of the study of every\none, who desires to imitate the works of nature, _as a master should\ndo_, or to judge of the performances of others _as a real connoisseur\nought_.\n\nI cannot be too long, I think, on this subject, as so much will be\nfound to depend upon it; and therefore shall endeavour to give a clear\nidea of the different effect such anatomical figures have on the eye,\nfrom what the same parts have, when cover'd by the fat and skin; by\nsupposing a small wire (that has lost its spring and so will retain\nevery shape it is twisted into) to be held fast to the out-side of the\nhip (fig. 65. plate I) and thence brought down the other side of the\nthigh obliquely over the calf of the leg, down to the outward ancle\n(all the while press'd so close as to touch and conform itself to the\nshape of every muscle it passes over) and then to be taken off. If this\nwire be now examined it will be found that the general uninterrupted\nflowing twist, which the winding round the limbs would otherwise have\ngiven to it, is broken into little better than so many separate plain\ncurves, by the sharp indentures it every where has receiv'd on being\nclosely press'd in between the muscles.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 65, 66 and 67]\n\nSuppose, in the next place, such a wire was in the same manner twisted\nround a living well-shaped leg and thigh, or those of a fine statue;\nwhen you take it off you will find no such sharp indentures, nor any of\nthose regular _engralings_ (as the heralds express it) which displeased\nthe eye before. On the contrary, you will see how _gradually_ the\nchanges in its shape are produced; how imperceptibly the different\ncurvatures run into each other, and how easily the eye glides along\nthe varied wavings of its sweep. To enforce this still further, if\na line were to be drawn by a pencil exactly where these wires have\nbeen supposed to pass, the point of the pencil, in the muscular leg\nand thigh, would perpetually meet with stops and rubs, whilst in the\nothers it would flow from muscle to muscle along the elastic skin, as\npleasantly as the lightest skiff dances over the gentlest wave.\n\nThis idea of the wire, retaining thus the shape of the parts it passes\nover, seems of so much consequence, that I would by no means have it\nforgot; as it may properly be consider'd as one of the threads (or\noutlines) of the shell (or external surface) of the human form: and\nthe frequently recurring to it will assist the imagination in its\nconceptions of those parts of it, whose shapes are most intricately\nvaried: for the same sort of observations may be made, with equal\njustice, on the shapes of ever so many such wires twisted in the same\nmanner in ever so many directions over every part of a well made man,\nwoman, or statue.\n\nAnd if the reader will follow in his imagination the most exquisite\nturns of the chisel in the hands of a master, when he is putting the\nfinishing touches to a statue; he will soon be led to understand what\nit is the real judges expect from the hand of such a master, which\nthe Italians call, the little more, Il poco piu, and which in reality\ndistinguishes the original master-pieces at Rome from even the best\ncopies of them.\n\nAn example or two will sufficiently explain what is here meant; for\nas these exquisite turns are to be found, in some degree of beauty\nor other, all over the whole surface of the body and limbs: we may\nby taking any one part of a fine figure (though so small a one that\nonly a few muscles are express'd in it) explain the manner in which so\nmuch beauty and grace has been given to them, as to convince a skilful\nartist, almost at sight, that it must have been the work of a master.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 76]\n\nI have chosen, for this purpose, a small piece of the body of a statue,\nfig. [76 T p. II], representing part of the left side under the arm,\ntogether with a little of the breast, (including a very particular\nmuscle, which, from the likeness its edges bear to the teeth of a saw,\nis, if consider'd by itself, void of beauty) as most proper to the\npoint in hand, because this its regular shape more peculiarly requires\nthe skill of the artist to give it a little more variety than it\ngenerally has, even in nature.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 77]\n\nFirst, then, I will give you a representation of this part of the\nbody, from an anatomical figure [Fig. 77 T p. II], to show what a\nsameness there is in the shapes of all the teeth-like insertions of\nthis muscle; and how regularly the fibres, which compose it, follow the\nalmost parallel out-lines of the ribs they partly cover.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 78]\n\nFrom what has been said before of the use of the natural covering of\nthe skin, &c. the next figure [78 T p. II] will easily be understood to\nmean so tame a representation of the same part of the body, that tho'\nthe hard and stiff appearance of the edges of this muscle is taken off\nby that covering, yet enough of its regularity and sameness remains to\nrender it disagreeable.\n\nNow as regularity and sameness, according to our doctrine, is want of\nelegance and true taste, we shall endeavour in the next place to show\nhow this very part (in which the muscles take so very regular a form)\nmay be brought to have as much variety as any other part of the body\nwhatever. In order to this, though some alteration must be made in\nalmost every part of it, yet it should be so inconsiderable in each,\nthat no remarkable change may appear in the shape and situation of any.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 79, 80 and 81]\n\nThus, let the parts mark'd 1, 2, 3, 4, (which appear so exactly\nsimilar in shape, and parallel in situation in the muscular figure\n77) and not much mended in fig. 78, be first varied in their sizes,\nbut not gradually from the uppermost to the lowest, as in fig. [79 T\np. II], nor alternately one long and one short, as in fig. [80 T p.\nII], for in either of these cases there would still remain too great\na formality. We should therefore endeavour, in the next place, to\nvary them every way in our power, without losing entirely the true\nidea of the parts themselves. Suppose them then to have changed their\nsituations a little, and slip'd beside each other irregularly, (some\nhow as is represented in fig. [81 T p. II], merely with regard to their\nsituation) and the external appearance of the whole piece of the body,\nnow under our consideration, will assume the more varied and pleasing\nform, represented in fig. 76, easily to be discern'd by comparing the\nthree figures, 76, 77, 78, one with another; and it will as easily be\nseen, that were lines to be drawn, or wires to be bent, over these\nmuscles, from one to the other, and so on to the adjoining parts; they\nwould have a continued waving flow, let them pass in any direction\nwhatever.\n\nThe unskilful, in drawing these parts after the life, as their\nregularities are much more easily seen and copied than their fine\nvariations, seldom fail of making them more regular and poor than they\nreally appear even in a consumptive person.\n\nThe difference will appear evident by comparing fig. 78, purposely\ndrawn in this tasteless manner, with fig. 76. But will be more\nperfectly understood by examining this part in the Torso of Michael\nAngelo [Fig. 54 p. I], whence this figure was taken.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 54]\n\nNote, there are casts of a small copy of that famous trunk of a body\nto be had at almost every plaster-figure makers, wherein what has been\nhere described may be sufficiently seen, not only in the part which\nfigure 76 was taken from, but all over that curious piece of antiquity.\n\nI must here again press my reader to a particular attention to the\nwindings of these superficial lines, even in their passing over every\njoint, what alterations soever may be made in the surface of the skin\nby the various bendings of the limbs: and tho' the space allow'd for\nit, just in the joints, be ever so small, and consequently the lines\never so short, the application of this principle of varying these\nlines, as far as their lengths will admit of, will be found to have its\neffect as gracefully as in the more lengthen'd muscles of the body.\n\nIt should be observ'd in the fingers, where the joints are but short,\nand the tendons straight; and where beauty seems to submit, in some\ndegree, to use, yet not so much but you trace in a full-grown taper\nfinger, these little winding lines among the wrinkles, or in (what\nis more pretty because more simple) the dimples of the nuckles. As\nwe always distinguish things best by seeing their reverse set in\nopposition with them; if fig. 82 T p. II, by the straightness of its\nlines, shews fig. 83 T p. II, to have some little taste in it, tho' it\nis so slightly sketch'd; the difference will more evidently appear when\nyou in like manner compare a straight coarse finger in common life with\nthe taper dimpled one of a fine lady.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 82 and 83]\n\nThere is an elegant degree of plumpness peculiar to the skin of the\nsofter sex, that occasions these delicate dimplings in all their\nother joints, as well as these of the fingers; which so perfectly\ndistinguishes them from those even of a graceful man; and which,\nassisted by the more soften'd shapes of the muscles underneath,\npresents to the eye all the varieties in the whole figure of the body,\nwith gentler and fewer parts more sweetly connected together, and with\nsuch a fine simplicity as will always give the turn of the female\nframe, represented in the Venus [Fig. 13 p. I], the preference to that\nof the Apollo [Fig. 12 p. I].\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 13 and 12]\n\nNow whoever can conceive lines thus constantly flowing, and delicately\nvarying over every part of the body even to the fingers ends, and will\ncall to his remembrance what led us to this last description of what\nthe Italians call, Il poco piu (_the little more_ that is expected from\nthe hand of a master) will, in my mind, want very little more than what\nhis own observation on the works of art and nature will lead him to, to\nacquire a true idea of the word _Taste_, when applied to form; however\ninexplicable this word may hitherto have been imagined.\n\nWe have all along had recourse chiefly to the works of the ancients,\nnot because the moderns have not produced some as excellent; but\nbecause the works of the former are more generally known: nor would\nwe have it thought, that either of them have ever yet come up to the\nutmost beauty of nature. Who but a bigot, even to the antiques, will\nsay that he has not seen faces and necks, hands and arms in living\nwomen, that even the Grecian Venus doth but coarsely imitate?\n\nAnd what sufficient reason can be given why the same may not be said of\nthe rest of the body?\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\n_Of PROPORTION_.\n\n\nIf anyone should ask, what it is that constitutes a fine-proportion'd\nhuman figure? how ready and seemingly decisive is the common answer: _a\njust symmetry and harmony of parts with respect to the whole_. But as\nprobably this vague answer took its rise from doctrines not belonging\nto form, or idle schemes built on them, I apprehend it will cease to be\nthought much to the purpose after a proper enquiry has been made.\n\nPreparatory to which, it becomes necessary in this place, to mention\none reason more which may be added to those given in the introduction,\nfor my having persuaded the reader to consider objects scoop'd out like\nthin shells; which is, that partly by this conception, he may be the\nbetter able to separate and keep asunder the two following _general\nideas_, as we will call them, belonging to form; which are apt to\ncoincide and mix with each other in the mind, and which it is necessary\n(for the sake of making each more fully and particularly clear) should\nbe kept apart, and consider'd singly.\n\nFirst, the _general ideas_ of what hath already been discussed in the\nforegoing chapters, which only comprehends the surface of form, viewing\nit in no other light than merely as being ornamental or not.\n\nSecondly, that _general idea_, now to be discussed, which we commonly\nhave of form altogether, as arising chiefly from a fitness to some\ndesign'd purpose or use.\n\nHitherto our main drift hath been to establish and illustrate the\nfirst idea only, by shewing, first the nature of variety, and then its\neffects on the mind; with the manner how such impressions are made by\nmeans of the different feelings given to the eye, from its movements in\ntracing and coursing[5] over surfaces of all kinds.\n\n[5] See Chapter V, page 25.\n\nThe surface of a piece of ornament, that hath every turn in it that\nlines are capable of moving into, and at the same time no way applied,\nnor of any manner of use, but merely to entertain the eye, would be\nsuch an object as would answer to this first idea alone.\n\nThe figure like a leaf, at the bottom of plate I, near to fig. 67, is\nsomething of this kind; it was taken from an ash-tree, and was a sort\nof Lusus natur\u00e6, growing only like an excressence, but so beautiful\nin the lines of its shell-like windings, as would have been above the\npower of a Gibbons to have equalled, even in its own materials; nor\ncould the graver of an Edlinck, or Drevet, have done it justice on\ncopper.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. near Fig. 67]\n\nNote, the present taste of ornaments seems to have been partly taken\nfrom productions of this sort, which are to be found about autumn among\nplants, particularly asparagus, when it is running to seed.\n\nI shall now endeavour to explain what is included in what I have called\nfor distinction sake, the second _general idea_ of form, in a much\nfuller manner than was done in Chapter I, of Fitness. And begin with\nobserving, that though surfaces will unavoidably be still included, yet\nwe must no longer confine ourselves to the particular notice of them as\nsurfaces only, as we heretofore have done; we must now open our view to\ngeneral, as well as particular bulk and solidity; and also look into\nwhat may have filled up, or given rise thereto, such as certain _given_\nquantities and dimensions of parts, for inclosing any substance, or for\nperforming of _motion, purchase, stedfastness,_ and other matters of\nuse to living beings, which, I apprehend, at length, will bring us to a\ntolerable conception of the word _proportion_.\n\nAs to these _joint-sensations_ of bulk and motion, do we not at first\nsight almost, even without making trial, seem to _feel_ when a leaver\nof any kind is too weak, or not long enough to make such or such a\npurchase? or when a spring is not sufficient? and don't we find by\nexperience what weight, or dimension should be given, or taken away, on\nthis or that account? if so, as the general as well as particular bulks\nof form, are made up of materials moulded together under mechanical\ndirections, for some known purpose or other; how naturally, from these\nconsiderations, shall we fall into a judgment of _fit proportion_;\nwhich is one part of beauty to the mind tho' not always so to the eye.\n\nOur necessities have taught us to mould matter into various shapes,\nand to give them fit proportions for particular uses, as bottles,\nglasses, knives, dishes, &c. Hath not offence given rise to the\nform of the sword, and defence to that of the shield? And what else\nbut proper fitness of parts hath fix'd the different dimensions of\npistols, muskets, great guns, fowling-pieces and blunderbusses; which\ndifferences as to figure, may as properly be called the different\ncharacters of fire-arms, as the different shapes of men are called\ncharacters of men.\n\nWe find also that the profuse variety of shapes, which present\nthemselves from the whole animal creation, arise chiefly from the\nnice fitness of their parts, designed for accomplishing the peculiar\nmovements of each.\n\nAnd here I think will be the proper place to speak of a most curious\ndifference between the living machines of nature, in respect of\nfitness, and such poor ones, in comparison with them, as men are only\ncapable of making; by means of which distinction, I am in hopes of\nshewing what particularly constitutes the utmost beauty of proportion\nin the human figure.\n\nA clock, by the government's order, has been made, and another\nnow making, by Mr. Harrison, for the keeping of true time at sea;\nwhich perhaps is one of the most exquisite movements ever made.\nHappy the ingenious contriver! although the form of the whole, or of\nevery part of this curious machine, should be ever so confused, or\ndispleasingly shaped to the eye; and although even its movements should\nbe disagreeable to look at, provided it answers the end proposed. An\nornamental composition was no part of his scheme, otherwise than as\na pollish might be necessary. If ornaments are required to be added\nto mend its shape, care must be taken that they are no obstruction to\nthe movement itself, and the more as they would be superfluous, as to\nthe main design.--But in nature's machines, how wonderfully do we see\nbeauty and use go hand in hand!\n\nHad a machine for this purpose been nature's work, the whole and every\nindividual part would have had exquisite beauty of form without danger\nof destroying the exquisiteness of its motion, even as if ornament had\nbeen the sole aim; its movements too would have been graceful, without\none superfluous tittle added for either of these lovely purposes.--Now\nthis is that curious difference between the fitness of nature's\nmachines (one of which is man) and those made by mortal hands: which\ndistinction is to lead us to our main point proposed; I mean, to the\nshewing what constitutes the utmost beauty of proportion.\n\nThere was brought from France some years ago, a little clock-work\nmachine, with a duck's head and legs fixt to it, which was so contrived\nas to have some resemblance of that animal standing upon one foot,\nand stretching back its leg, turning its head, opening and shutting\nits bill, moving its wings, and shaking its tail; all of them the\nplainest and easiest directions in living movements: yet for the\npoorly performing of these few motions, this silly, but much extoll'd\nmachine, being uncover'd, appeared a most complicated, confused, and\ndisagreeable object: nor would its being covered with a skin closely\nadhering to its parts, as that of a real duck's doth, have much\nmended its figure; at best, a bag of hob-nails, broken hinges, and\npatten-rings, would have looked as well, unless by other means it had\nbeen stuffed out to bring it into form.\n\nThus again you see, the more variety we pretend to give to our trifling\nmovements, the more confused and unornamental the forms become; nay\nchance but seldom helps them.--How much the reverse are nature's! the\ngreater the variety her movements have, the more beautiful are the\nparts that cause them.\n\nThe finny race of animals, as they have fewer motions than other\ncreatures, so are their forms less remarkable for beauty. It is also\nto be noted of every species, that the handsomest of each move best:\nbirds of a clumsy make seldom fly well, nor do lumpy fish glide so well\nthrough the water as those of a neater make; and beasts of the most\nelegant form, always excel in speed; of this, the horse and greyhound\nare beautiful examples: and even among themselves, the most elegantly\nmade seldom fail of being the swiftest.\n\nThe war-horse is more equally made for strength than the race-horse,\nwhich surplus of power in the former, if suppos'd added to the latter,\nas it would throw more weight into improper parts for the business\nof mere speed, so of course it would lessen, in some degree, that\nadmirable quality, and partly destroy that delicate fitness of his\nmake; but then a quality in movement, superior to that of speed, would\nbe given to him by the addition, as he would be render'd thereby more\nfit to move with ease in such varied, or graceful directions, as are so\ndelightful to the eye in the carriage of the fine manag'd war-horse;\nand as at the same time, something stately and graceful would be added\nto his figure, which before could only be said to have an elegant\nneatness. This noble creature stands foremost among brutes; and it is\nbut consistent with nature's propriety, that the most useful animal in\nthe brute-creation, should be thus signalized also for the most beauty.\n\nYet, properly speaking, no living creatures are capable of moving in\nsuch truly varied and graceful directions, as the human species; and\nit would be needless to say how much superior in beauty their forms\nand textures likewise are. And surely also after what has been said\nrelating to figure and motion, it is plain and evident that nature\nhas thought fit to make beauty of proportion, and beauty of movement,\nnecessary to each other: so that the observation before made on\nanimals, will hold equally good with regard to man: i. e. that he who\nis most exquisitely well-proportion'd is most capable of exquisite\nmovements, such as ease and _grace in deportment_, or in dancing.\n\nIt may be a sort of collateral confirmation of what has been said of\nthis method of nature's working, as well as otherwise worth our notice,\nthat when any parts belonging to the human body are conceal'd, and\nnot immediately concern'd in movement, all such ornamental shapes, as\nevidently appear in the muscles and bones[6], are totally neglected as\nunnecessary, for nature doth nothing in vain! this is plainly the case\nof the intestines, none of them having the least beauty, as to form,\nexcept the _heart_; which noble part, and indeed kind of first mover,\nis a simple and well-varied figure; conformable to which, some of the\nmost elegant Roman urns and vases have been fashion'd.\n\n[6] See Chapter IX on Compositions with the Serpentine-line.\n\nNow, thus much being kept in remembrance, our next step will be to\nspeak of, first, general measurements; such as the whole height of the\nbody to its breadth, or the length of a limb to its thickness: and,\nsecondly, of such appearances of dimensions as are too intricately\nvaried to admit of a description by lines.\n\nThe former will be confined to a very few straight lines, crossing each\nother, which will easily be understood by everyone; but the latter\nwill require somewhat more attention, because it will extend to the\nprecision of every modification, bound, or limit, of the human figure.\n\nTo be somewhat more explicit. As to the first part, I shall begin\nwith shewing what practicable sort of measuring may be used in order\nto produce the most proper variety in the proportions of the parts of\nany body. I say, _practicable_, because the vast variety of intricately\nsituated parts, belonging to the human form, will not admit of\nmeasuring the distances of one part by another, by lines or points,\nbeyond a certain degree or number, without great perplexity in the\noperation itself, or confusion to the imagination. For instance, say, a\nline representing one breadth and an half of the wrist, would be equal\nto the true breadth of the thickest part of the arm above the elbow;\nmay it not then be ask'd, what part of the wrist is meant? for if you\nplace a pair of calipers a little nearer or further from the hand, the\ndistance of the points will differ, and so they will if they are moved\nclose to the wrist all round, because it is flatter one way than the\nother; but suppose, for argument sake, one certain diameter should be\nfix'd upon; may it not again be ask'd, how is it to be apply'd, if to\nthe flattest side of the arm or the roundest, and how far from the\nelbow, and must it be when the arm is extended or when it is bent?\nfor this also will make a sensible difference, because in the latter\nposition, the muscle, call'd the biceps, in the front of that part of\nthe arm, swells up like a ball one way, and narrows itself another; nay\nall the muscles shift their appearances in different movements, so that\nwhatever may have been pretended by some authors, no exact mathematical\nmeasurements by lines, can be given for the true proportion of a human\nbody.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 68 and 55]\n\nIt comes then to this, that no longer than whilst we suppose all\nthe lengths and breadths of the body, or limbs, to be as regular\nfigures as cylinders, or as the leg, figure 68 in plate I, which is\nas round as a rolling-stone, are the measures of lengths to breadths\npracticable, or of any use to the knowledge of proportion: so that as\nall mathematical schemes are foreign to this purpose, we will endeavour\nto root them quite out of our way: therefore I must not omit taking\nnotice, that Albert Durer, Lomazzo, (see two tasteless figures taken\nfrom their books of proportion [Fig. 55 p. I]) and some others, have\nnot only puzzled mankind with a heap of minute unnecessary divisions,\nbut also with a strange _notion_ that those divisions are govern'd by\nthe laws of music; which mistake they seem to have been led into, by\nhaving seen certain uniform and consonant divisions upon one string\nproduce harmony to the ear, and by persuading themselves, that similar\ndistances in lines belonging to form, would, in like manner, delight\nthe eye. The very reverse of which has been shewn to be true, in\nChapter III, on Uniformity. \"The length of the foot,\" say they, \"in\nrespect to the breadth, makes a _double suprabipartient_, a _diapason_,\nand a _diatesseron_[7]:\" which, in my opinion, would have been full as\napplicable to the ear, or to a plant, or to a tree, or any other form\nwhatsoever; yet these sort of _notions_ have so far prevail'd by time,\nthat the words, _harmony of parts_, seem as applicable to form, as to\nmusic.\n\n[7] Note, these authors assure you, that this curious method of\nmeasuring, _will produce beauty far beyond any nature doth afford_.\nLomazzo, recommends also another scheme, with a triangle, to\ncorrect the _poverty of nature_, as they express themselves. These\n_nature-menders_ put one in mind of Gulliver's tailor at Laputa,\nwho, having taken measure of him for a suit of clothes, with a rule,\nquadrant, and compasses, after a considerable time spent, brought them\nhome ill-made.\n\nNotwithstanding the absurdity of the above schemes, such measures\nas are to be taken from antique statues, may be of some service to\npainters and sculptors, especially to young beginners, but nothing nigh\nof such use to them, as the measures, taken the same way, from ancient\nbuildings, have been, and are, to architects and builders; because the\nlatter have to do with little else but plain geometrical figures: which\nmeasures, however, serve only in copying what has been done before.\n\nThe few measures I shall speak of, for the setting out the general\ndimensions of a figure, shall be taken by straight lines only, for the\nmore easy conception of what may indeed be properly call'd, _gaging the\ncontents of the body_, supposing it solid like a marble statue, as the\nwires were described to do [Fig. 2 p. I] in the introduction: by which\nplain method, clear ideas may be acquir'd of what _alone_ seem to me to\nrequire measuring, of what certain lengths to what breadths make the\nmost eligible proportions in general.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 2]\n\nThe most general dimensions of a body, or limbs, are lengths,\nbreadths, or thicknesses: now the whole gentility of a figure,\naccording to its character, depends upon the first proportioning these\nlines or wires (which are its measures) properly one to another; and\nthe more varied these lines are, with respect to each other, the more\nmay the future divisions be varied likewise, that are to be made\non them; and of course the less varied these lines are, the parts\ninfluenced by them, as they must conform themselves to them, must have\nless variety too. For example, the exact cross [Fig. 69 R p. II] of two\nequal lines, cutting each other in the middle, would confine the figure\nof a man, drawn conformable to them, to the disagreeable character\nof his being as broad as he is long. And the two lines crossing each\nother, to make the height and breadth of a figure, will want variety\na contrary way, by one line being very short in proportion to the\nother, and therefore, also incapable of producing a figure of tolerable\nvariety. To prove this, it will be very easy for the reader to make\nthe experiment, by drawing a figure or two (tho' ever so imperfectly)\nconfin'd within such limits.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 69]\n\nThere is a medium between these, proper for every character, which the\neye will easily and accurately determine.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 70]\n\nThus, if the lines, fig. [70 R p. II], were to be the measure of the\nextreme length and breadth, set out either for the figure of a man or a\nvase, the eye soon sees the longest of these is not quite sufficiently\nso, in proportion to the other, for a genteel man; and yet it would\nmake a vase too taper to be elegant; no rule or compasses would decide\nthis matter either so quickly or so precisely as a good eye. It may be\nobserved, that minute differences in great lengths, are of little or\nno consequence as to proportion, because they are not to be discerned;\nfor a man is half an inch shorter when he goes to bed at night, than\nwhen he rises in the morning, without the possibility of its being\nperceived. In case of a wager the application of a rule or compasses\nmay be necessary, but seldom on any other occasion.\n\nThus much I apprehend is sufficient for the consideration of general\nlengths to breadths. Where, by the way, I apprehend I have plainly\nshewn, that there is no practicable rule, by lines, for minutely\nsetting out proportions _for_ the human body, and if there were, the\neye alone must determine us in our choice of what is most pleasing to\nitself.\n\nThus having dispatch'd general dimension, which we may say is almost\nas much of proportion, as is to be seen when we have our cloaths on: I\nshall in the second, and more extensive method proposed for considering\nit, set out in the familiar path of common observation, and appeal as I\ngo on to our usual feeling, or joint-sensation, of figure and motion.\n\nPerhaps by mentioning two or three known instances it will be found\nthat almost every one is farther advanced in the knowledge of this\nspeculative part of proportion than he imagines; especially he who hath\nbeen used to observe naked figures doing bodily exercise, and more\nespecially if he be any way interested in the success of them; and\nthe better he is acquainted with the nature of the exercise itself,\nstill the better judge he becomes of the figure that is to perform\nit. For this reason, no sooner are two boxers stript to fight, but\neven a butcher, thus skill'd, shews himself a considerable critic in\nproportion; and on this sort of judgment, often gives, or takes the\nodds, at bare sight only of the combatants. I have heard a blacksmith\nharangue like an anatomist, or sculptor, on the beauty of a boxer's\nfigure, tho' not perhaps in the same terms; and I firmly believe, that\none of our common proficients in the athletic art, would be able to\ninstruct and direct the best sculptor living, (who hath not seen, or is\nwholly ignorant of this exercise) in what would give the statue of an\nEnglish-boxer, a much better proportion, as to character, than is to\nbe seen, even in the famous group of antique boxers, (or as some call\nthem, Roman wrestlers) so much admired to this day.\n\nIndeed, as many parts of the body are so constantly kept cover'd, the\nproportion of the whole cannot be equally known; but as stockings are\nso close and thin a covering, every one judges of the different shapes\nand proportions of legs with great accuracy. The ladies always speak\nskilfully of necks, hands, and arms; and often will point out such\nparticular beauties or defects in their make, as might easily escape\nthe observation of a man of science.\n\nSurely, such determinations could not be made and pronounced with such\ncritical truth, if the eye were not capable of measuring or judging of\nthicknesses by lengths, with great preciseness. Nay more, in order to\ndetermine so nicely as they often do, it must also at the same time,\ntrace with some skill those delicate windings upon the surface which\nhave been described in page 64 and 65, which altogether may be observ'd\nto include the two general ideas mention'd at the beginning of this\nchapter.\n\nIf so, certainly it is in the power of a man of science, with as\nobserving an eye, to go still further, and conceive, with a very\nlittle turn of thought, many other necessary circumstances concerning\nproportion, as of what size and in what manner the bones help to make\nup the bulk, and support the other parts; as well as what certain\nweights or dimensions of muscles are proper (according to the principle\nof the steelyard) to move such or such a length of arm with this or\nthat degree of swiftness or force.\n\nBut though much of this matter, may be easily understood by common\nobservation, assisted by science, still I fear it will be difficult to\nraise a very clear idea of what constitutes, or composes the _utmost\nbeauty of proportion_; such as is seen in the Antinous; which is\nallowed to be the most perfect in this respect, of any of the antique\nstatues; and tho' the lovely likewise seems to have been as much the\nsculptor's aim, as in the Venus; yet a manly strength in its proportion\nis equally express'd from head to foot in it.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 6]\n\nLet us try, however, and as this master-piece of art is so well known,\nwe will set it up before us as a pattern, and endeavour to fabricate,\nor put together in the mind, such kind of parts as shall seem to build\nanother figure like it. In doing which, we shall soon find that it is\nchiefly to be effected by means of the nice sensation we naturally\nhave of what certain quantities or dimensions of parts, are fittest to\nproduce the utmost strength for moving, or supporting great weights;\nand of what are most fit for the utmost light agility, as also for\nevery degree, between these two extremes.\n\nHe who hath best perfected his ideas of these matters by common\nobservations, and by the assistance of arts relative thereto,\nwill probably be most precisely just and clear, in conceiving the\napplication of the various parts and dimensions, that will occur to\nhim, in the following descriptive manner of disposing of them, in order\nto form the idea of a fine-proportion'd figure.\n\nHaving set up the Antinous as our pattern, we will suppose there were\nplaced on one side of it, the unwieldy elephant-like figure of an\nAtlas, made up of such thick bones and muscles, as would best fit him\nfor supporting a vast weight, according to his character of extreme\nheavy strength. And, on the other side, imagine the slim figure of a\nMercury, every where neatly formed for the utmost light agility, with\nslender bones and taper muscles fit for his nimble bounding from the\nground.--Both these figures must be supposed of equal height, and not\nexceeding six foot[8].\n\n[8] If the scale of either of these proportions were to exceed six\nfoot in the life, the quality of strength in one, and agility in the\nother, would gradually decrease, the larger the person grew. There are\nsufficient proofs of this, both from mechanical reasonings and common\nobservation.\n\nOur _extremes_ thus placed, now imagine the Atlas throwing off by\ndegrees, certain portions of bone and muscle, proper for the attainment\nof light agility, as if aiming at the Mercury's airy form and quality,\nwhilst on the other hand, see the Mercury augmenting his taper figure\nby equal degrees, and growing towards an Atlas in equal time, by\nreceiving to the like places from whence they came, the very quantities\nthat the other had been casting off, when, as they approach each other\nin weight, their forms of course may be imagined to grow more and more\nalike, till at a certain point of time, they meet in just similitude;\nwhich being an exact medium between the two extremes, we may thence\nconclude it to be the precise form of exact proportion, fittest for\nperfect active strength or graceful movement; such as the Antinous we\nproposed to imitate and figure in the mind[9].\n\n[9] The jocky who knows to an ounce what flesh or bone in a horse is\nfittest for speed or strength, will as easily conceive the like process\nbetween the strongest dray-horse and the fleetest racer, and soon\nconclude, that the fine war-horse must be the medium between the two\nextremes.\n\nI am apprehensive that this part of my scheme, for explaining exact\nproportion, may not be thought so sufficiently determinate as could\nbe wished: be this as it will, I must submit it to the reader, as my\nbest resource in so difficult a case: and shall therefore beg leave\nto try to illustrate it a little more, by observing, that, in like\nmanner, any two opposite colours in the _rainbow_, form a third between\nthem, by thus imparting to each other their peculiar qualities; as for\nexample, the brightest yellow, and the lively blue that is placed at\nsome distance from it, visibly approach, and blend by interchangable\ndegrees, and, as above, _temper_ rather than destroy each other's\nvigour, till they meet in one firm compound; whence, at a certain\npoint, the sight of what they were originally, is quite lost; but in\ntheir stead, a most pleasing green is found, which colour nature hath\nchose for the vestment of the earth, and with the beauty of which the\neye is never tired.\n\nFrom the order of the ideas which the description of the above three\nfigures may have raised in the mind, we may easily compose between\nthem, various other proportions. And as the painter, by means of a\ncertain order in the arrangement of the colours upon his pallet,\nreadily mixes up what kind of tint he pleases, so may we mix up and\ncompound in the imagination such fit parts as will be consistent with\nthis or that particular character, or at least be able thereby to\ndiscover how such characters are composed, when we see them either in\nart or nature.\n\nBut perhaps even the word _character, as it relates to form,_ may\nnot be quite understood by every one, tho' it is so frequently used:\nnor do I remember to have seen it explained any where. Therefore on\nthis account--and also as it will further shew the use of thinking of\nform and motion together, it will not be improper to observe,--that\nnotwithstanding a character, in this sense, chiefly depends on a figure\nbeing remarkable as to its form, either in some particular part, or\naltogether; yet surely no figure, be it ever so singular, can be\nperfectly conceived as a character, till we find it connected with some\nremarkable circumstance or cause, for such particularity of appearance;\nfor instance, a fat bloted person doth not call to mind the character\nof a Silenus, till we have joined the idea of voluptuousness with it;\nso likewise strength to support, and clumsiness of figure, are united,\nas well in the character of an Atlas as in a porter.\n\nWhen we consider the great weight chairmen often have to carry, do we\nnot readily consent that there is a propriety and fitness in the tuscan\norder of their legs, by which they properly become _characters_ as to\nfigure?\n\nWatermen too, are of a distinct cast, or character, whose legs are\nno less remarkable for their smallness: for as there is naturally the\ngreatest call for nutriment to the parts that are most exercised, so of\ncourse these that lye so much stretched out, are apt to dwindle, or not\ngrow to their full size. There is scarcely a waterman that rows upon\nthe Thames, whose figure doth not confirm this observation. Therefore\nwere I to paint the character of a Charon, I would thus distinguish\nhis make from that of a common man's; and, in spite of the word _low_,\nventure to give him a broad pair of shoulders, and spindle shanks,\nwhether I had the authority of an antique statue, or basso-relievo, for\nit or not.\n\nMay be, I cannot throw a stronger light on what has been hitherto\nsaid of proportion, than by animadverting on a remarkable beauty in\nthe Apollo-belvedere; which hath given it the preference even to the\nAntinous: I mean a super-addition of _greatness_, to at least as much\nbeauty and grace, as is found in the latter.\n\nThese two master-pieces of art, are seen together in the same palace\nat Rome, where the Antinous fills the spectator with admiration only,\nwhilst the Apollo strikes him with surprise, and, as travellers\nexpress themselves, with an appearance of something _more than\nhuman_; which they _of course_ are always at a loss to describe: and\nthis effect, they say, is the more astonishing, as upon examination\nits disproportion is evident even to a common eye. One of the best\nsculptors we have in England, who lately went to see them, confirm'd to\nme what has been now said, particularly as to the legs and thighs being\ntoo long, and too large for the upper parts. And Andrea Sacchi, one of\nthe great Italian painters, seems to have been of the same opinion,\nor he would hardly have given his Apollo, crowning Pasquilini the\nmusician, the exact proportion of the Antinous, (in a famous picture of\nhis now in England) as otherwise it seems to be a direct copy from the\nApollo.\n\nAlthough in very great works we often see an inferior part neglected,\nyet here it cannot be the case, because in a fine statue, just\nproportion is one of its essential beauties: therefore it stands\nto reason, that these limbs must have been lengthened on purpose,\notherwise it might easily have been avoided.\n\nSo that if we examine the beauties of this figure thoroughly, we\nmay reasonably conclude, that what has been hitherto thought so\nunaccountably _excellent_ in its general appearance, hath been owing to\nwhat hath seem'd a _blemish_ in a part of it: but let us endeavour to\nmake this matter as clear as possible, as it may add more force to what\nhas been said.\n\nStatues by being bigger than life, (as this is one, and larger than\nthe Antinous) always gain some nobleness in effect, according to the\nprinciple of quantity[10] but this alone is not sufficient to give what\nis properly to be called, _greatness_ in proportion; for were figures\n17 and 18, in plate I, to be drawn or carved by a scale of ten feet\nhigh, they would still be but pigmy proportions, as, on the other hand,\na figure of but two inches, may represent a gigantic height.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 17 and 18]\n\n[10] See Chapter VI.\n\nTherefore _greatness_ of proportion must be considered, as depending\non the application of _quantity_ to those parts of the body where it\ncan give more scope to its grace in movement, as to the neck for the\nlarger and swan-like turns of the head, and to the legs and thighs, for\nthe more ample sway of all the upper parts together.\n\nBy which we find that the Antinous's being equally magnified to the\nApollo's height, would not sufficiently produce that superiority of\neffect, as to greatness, so evidently seen in the latter. The additions\nnecessary to the production of this _greatness_ in proportion, as it\nthere appears added to grace, must then be, by the proper application\nof them, to the parts mention'd only.\n\nI know not how further to prove this matter than by appealing to the\nreader's eye, and common observation, as before.\n\nThe Antinous being allowed to have the justest proportion possible, let\nus see what addition, upon the principle of quantity, can be made to\nit, without taking away any of its beauty.\n\nIf we imagine an addition of dimensions to the head, we shall\nimmediately conceive it would only deform--if to the hands or feet,\nwe are sensible of something gross and ungenteel,--if to the whole\nlengths of the arms, we feel they would be dangling and aukward--if by\nan addition of length or breadth to the body, we know it would appear\nheavy and clumsy--there remains then only the _neck_, with the _legs_\nand _thighs_ to speak of; but, to these we find, that not only certain\nadditions may be admitted without causing any disagreeable effect, but\nthat thereby _greatness_, the last perfection as to proportion, is\ngiven to the human form; as is evidently express'd in the Apollo: and\nmay still be further confirmed by examining the drawings of Parmigiano,\nwhere these particulars are seen in excess; yet on this account his\nworks are said, by all true connoisseurs, to have an inexpressible\ngreatness of taste in them, though otherwise very incorrect.\n\nLet us now return to the two general ideas we set out with at the\nbeginning of this chapter, and recollect that under the first, on\nsurface, I have shewn in what manner, and how far human proportion\nis measureable, by varying the contents of the body, conformable to\nthe given proportion of two lines. And that under the second and more\nextensive general idea of form, as arising from fitness for movement,\n&c. I have endeavour'd to explain, by every means I could devise, that\nevery particular and minute dimension of the body, should conform to\nsuch purposes of movement, &c. as have been first properly considered\nand determined: on which conjunctively, the true proportion of every\ncharacter must depend; and is found so to do, by our joint-sensation\nof bulk and motion. Which account of the proportion of the human\nbody, however imperfect, may possibly stand its ground, till one more\nplausible shall be given.\n\nAs the Apollo [Fig. 12 p. I] has been only mention'd on account of\nthe greatness of its proportion, I think in justice to so fine a\nperformance; and also as it is not foreign to the point we have been\nupon, we may subjoin an Observation or two on its perfections.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 12]\n\nBesides, what is commonly allow'd, if we consider it by the rules here\ngiven for constituting or composing character, it will discover the\nauthor's great sagacity, in choosing a proportion for this deity, which\nhas served two noble purposes at once; in that these very dimensions\nwhich appear to have given it so much dignity, are the same that are\nbest fitted to produce the utmost speed. And what could characterise\nthe god of day, either so strongly or elegantly, to be expressive in a\nstatue, as superior swiftness, and beauty dignify'd? and how poetically\ndoth the action it is put into, carry on the allusion to speed,[11] as\nhe is lightly stepping forward, and seeming to shoot his arrows from\nhim; if the arrows may be allowed to signify the sun's rays? This at\nleast may as well be supposed as the common surmise, that he is killing\nthe dragon, Python; which certainly is very inconsistent with so erect\nan attitude, and benign an aspect[12].\n\n[11]----the sun: which cometh forth as a bridegroom out of his chamber,\nand rejoiceth as a giant to run his course. Psalm xix. 5.\n\n[12] The accounts given, in relation to this statue, make it so highly\nprobable that it was the great Apollo of Delphos, that, for my own\npart, I make no manner of doubt of its being so.\n\nNor are the inferior parts neglected: the drapery also that depends\nfrom his shoulders, and folds over his extended arm, hath its treble\noffice. As first, it assists in keeping the general appearance within\nthe boundary of a pyramid, which being inverted, is, for a single\nfigure, rather more natural and genteel than one upon its basis.\nSecondly, it fills up the vacant angle under the arm, and takes off the\nstraightness of the lines the arm necessarily makes with the body in\nsuch an action; and, lastly, spreading as it doth, in pleasing folds,\nit helps to satisfy the eye with a noble quantity in the composition\naltogether, without depriving the beholder of any part of the beauties\nof the naked: in short, this figure might serve, were a lecture to be\nread over it, to exemplify every principle that hath been hitherto\nadvanced. We shall therefore close not only all we have to say on\nproportion with it, but our whole lineal account of form, except what\nwe have particularly to offer as to the face; which it will be proper\nto defer, till we have spoken of _light_ and _shade_ and _colour_.\n\nAs some of the ancient statues have been of such singular use to me, I\nshall beg leave to conclude this chapter with an observation or two on\nthem in general.\n\nIt is allowed by the most skilful in the imitative arts, that\ntho' there are many of the remains of antiquity, that have great\nexcellencies about them; yet there are not, moderately speaking, above\ntwenty that may be justly called _capital_. There is one reason,\nnevertheless, besides the blind veneration that generally is paid\nto antiquity, for holding even many very imperfect pieces in some\ndegree of estimation: I mean that _peculiar taste of elegance_ which\nso visibly runs through them all, down to the most incorrect of their\nbasso-relievos: which _taste_, I am persuaded, my reader will now\nconceive to have been entirely owing to the perfect knowledge the\nancients must have had of the use of the precise serpentine-line.\n\nBut this cause of _elegance_ not having been since sufficiently\nunderstood, no wonder such effects should have appear'd mysterious, and\nhave drawn mankind into a sort of religious esteem, and even bigotry,\nto the works of antiquity.\n\nNor have there been wanting of artful people, who have made good profit\nof those whose unbounded admiration hath run them into enthusiasm.\nNay there are, I believe, some who still carry on a comfortable\ntrade in such originals as have been so defaced and maimed by time,\nthat it would be impossible, without a pair of _double-ground_\nconnoisseur-spectacles, to see whether they have ever been good or\nbad: they deal also in cook'd-up copies, which they are very apt to\nput off for originals. And whoever dares be bold enough to detect such\nimpositions, finds himself immediately branded, and given out as one of\nlow ideas, ignorant of the true sublime, self-conceited, envious, &c.\n\nBut as there are a great part of mankind that delight most in what\nthey least understand; for ought I know, the emolument may be equal\nbetween the _bubler_ and the _bubled_: at least this seems to have been\nButler's opinion:\n\nDoubtless the pleasure is as great\nIn being cheated, as to cheat.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\n_Of LIGHT and SHADE, and the manner in which objects are explained to\nthe eye by them_.\n\n\nAlthough both this and the next chapter may seem more particularly\nrelative to the art of painting, than any of the foregoing; yet, as\nhitherto, I have endeavour'd to be understood by every reader, so here\nalso I shall avoid, as much as the subject will permit, speaking of\nwhat would only be well-conceived by painters.\n\nThere is such a subtile variety in the nature of appearances, that\nprobably we shall not be able to gain much ground by this enquiry,\nunless we exert and apply the full use of every sense, that will convey\nto us any information concerning them.\n\nSo far as we have already gone, the sense of feeling, as well as that\nof seeing, hath been apply'd to; so that perhaps a man born blind,\nmay, by his better touch than is common to those who have their sight,\ntogether with the regular process that has been here given of lines, so\nfeel out the nature of forms, as to make a tolerable judgment of what\nis beautiful to sight.\n\nHere again our other senses must assist us, notwithstanding in this\nchapter we shall be more confined to what is communicated to the eye by\nrays of light; and tho' things must now be consider'd as appearances\nonly; produced and made out merely by means of _lights, shades,_ and\n_colours_.\n\nBy the various circumstances of which, every one knows we have\nrepresented on the flat surface of the looking-glass, pictures equal to\nthe originals reflected by it. The painter too, by proper dispositions\nof lights, shades, and colours, on his canvas, will raise the like\nideas. Even prints, by means of lights and shades alone, will perfectly\ninform the eye of every shape and distance whatsoever, in which even\nlines must be consider'd as narrow parts of shade, a number of them,\ndrawn or engrav'd neatly side by side, called _hatching_, serve as\nshades in prints, and when they are artfully managed, are a kind of\npleasing _succedaneum_ to the delicacy of nature's.\n\nCould mezzo-tinto prints be wrought as accurately as those with the\ngraver, they would come nearest to nature, because they are done\nwithout strokes or lines.\n\nI have often thought that a landskip, in the process of this way of\nrepresenting it, doth a little resemble the first coming on of day.\nThe copper-plate it is done upon, when the artist first takes it into\nhand, is wrought all over with an edg'd-tool, so as to make it print\none even black, like night: and his whole work after this, is merely\nintroducing the lights into it; which he does by scraping off the rough\ngrain according to his design, artfully smoothing it most where light\nis most required: but as he proceeds in burnishing the lights, and\nclearing up the shades, he is obliged to take off frequent impressions\nto prove the progress of the work, so that each proof appears like the\ndifferent times of a foggy morning, till one becomes so finish'd as to\nbe distinct and clear enough to imitate a day-light piece. I have given\nthis description because I think the whole operation, in the simplest\nmanner, shews what lights and shades alone will do.\n\nAs light must always be supposed, I need only speak of such privations\nof it as are called shades or shadows, wherein I shall endeavour to\npoint out and regularly describe a certain order and arrangement in\ntheir appearance, in which order we may conceive different kinds of\nsoftnings and modulations of the rays of light which are said to fall\nupon the eye from every object it sees, and to cause those more or\nless-pleasing vibrations of the optic nerves, which serve to inform the\nmind concerning every different shape or figure that presents itself.\n\nThe best light for seeing the shadows of objects truly, is, that which\ncomes in at a common sized window, where the sun doth not shine; I\nshall therefore speak of their order as seen by this kind of light:\nand shall take the liberty in the present and following chapter, to\nconsider colours but as variegated shades, which together with common\nshades, will now be divided into two general parts or branches.\n\nThe first we shall call PRIME TINTS, by which is meant any colour or\ncolours on the surfaces of objects; and the use we shall make of these\ndifferent hues will be to consider them as shades to one another. Thus\ngold is a shade to silver, &c. exclusive of those additional shades\nwhich may be made in any degree by the privation of light.\n\nThe second branch may be called RETIRING SHADES, which gradate or go\noff by degrees, as figs. [84 and 85 T p. II]. These shades, as they vary\nmore or less, produce beauty, whether they are occasioned by the\nprivation of light, or made by the pencilings of art or nature.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 84 and 85]\n\nWhen I come to treat of colouring, I shall particularly shew in what\nmanner the gradating of prime tints serve to the making a beautiful\ncomplexion; in this place we shall only observe how nature hath by\nthese gradating shades ornamented the surfaces of animals; fish\ngenerally have this kind of shade from their backs downward; birds have\ntheir feathers enriched with it; and many flowers, particularly the\nrose, shew it by the gradually-increasing colours of their leaves.\n\nThe sky always gradates one way or other, and the rising or setting\nsun exhibits it in great perfection, the imitating of which was Claud.\nde Loraine's peculiar excellence, and is now Mr. Lambert's: there is so\nmuch of what is called harmony to the eye to be produced by this shade,\nthat I believe we may venture to say, in art it is the painter's gamut,\nwhich nature has sweetly pointed out to us in what we call the eyes of\na peacock's tail: and the nicest needle-workers are taught to weave it\ninto every flower and leaf, right or wrong, as if it was as constantly\nto be observed as it is seen in flames of fire; because it is always\nfound to entertain the eye. There is a sort of needle-work called\nIrish-stitch, done in these shades only; which pleases still, tho' it\nhas long been out of fashion.\n\nThere is so strict an analogy between shade and sound, that they\nmay well serve to illustrate each other's qualities: for as sounds\ngradually decreasing and increasing give the idea of progression from,\nor to the ear, just so do retiring shades shew progression, by figuring\nit to the eye. Thus, as by objects growing still fainter, we judge\nof distances in prospects, so by the decreasing noise of thunder, we\nform the idea of its moving further from us. And with regard to their\nsimilitude in beauty, like as the gradating shade pleases the eye, so\nthe increasing, or swelling note, delights the ear.\n\nI have call'd it the retiring shade, because by the successive,\nor continual change in its appearance, it is equally instrumental\nwith converging lines[13], in shewing how much objects, or any parts\nof them, retire or recede from the eye; without which, a floor, or\nhorizontal-plane, would often seem to stand upright like a wall. And\nnotwithstanding all the other ways by which we learn to know at what\ndistances things are from us, frequent deceptions happen to the eye on\naccount of deficiencies in this shade: for if the light chances to be\nso disposed on objects as not to give this shade its true gradating\nappearance, not only spaces are confounded, but round things appear\nflat, and flat ones round.\n\n[13] See p. 17. The two converging lines from the ship, to the point C,\nunder fig. 47, plate I.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 94]\n\nBut although the retiring shade hath this property, when seen with\nconverging lines, yet if it describes no particular form, as none\nof those do in fig. 94, on top of plate II, it can only appear as a\nflat-pencil'd shade; but being inclosed within some known boundary or\nout-line, such as may signify a wall, a road, a globe, or any other\nform in perspective where the parts retire, it will then shew its\nretiring quality: as for example, the retiring shade on the floor, in\nplate II, which gradates from the dog's feet to those of the dancer's,\nshews, that by this means a level appearance is given to the ground:\nso when a cube is put into true perspective on paper, with lines only,\nwhich do but barely hint the directions every face of it is meant to\ntake, these shades make them seem to retire just as the perspective\nlines direct; thus mutually compleating the idea of those recessions\nwhich neither of them alone could do.\n\n[Illustration: gradated shade]\n\nMoreover, the out-line of a globe is but a circle on the paper; yet,\naccording to the manner of filling up the space within it, with this\nshade, it may be made to appear either flat, globular, or concave, in\nany of its positions with the eye; and as each manner of filling up the\ncircle for those purposes must be very different, it evidently shews\nthe necessity of distinguishing this shade into as many species or\nkinds, as there are classes or species of lines, with which they may\nhave a correspondence.\n\nIn doing which, it will be found, that, by their correspondency with,\nand conformity to objects, either composed of straight, curved, waving,\nor serpentine lines, they of course take such appearances of variety as\nare adequate to the variety made by those lines; and by this conformity\nof shades we have the same ideas of any of the objects composed of\nthe above lines in their front aspects, as we have of them by their\nprofiles; which otherwise could not be without feeling them.\n\nNow instead of giving engraved examples of each species of shade, as I\nhave done of lines, I have found that they may be more satisfactorily\npointed out and described by having recourse to the life.\n\nBut in order to the better and more precisely fixing upon what may be\nthere seen, as the distinct species, of which all the shades of the\nretiring kind in nature partake, in some degree or other, the following\nscheme is offered, and intended as an additional means of making such\nsimple impressions in the mind, as may be thought adequate to the four\nspecies of lines described in Chapter VII. Wherein we are to suppose\nimperceptible degrees of shade gradating from one figure to another.\n\nThe first species to be represented by, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.\nthe second by, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.\nand the third by, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.\ngradating from the dots underneath, repeated either way.\n\nAs the first species varies or gradates but one way, it is therefore\nleast ornamental, and equal only to straight lines.\n\nThe second gradating contrary ways, doubling the others variety, is\nconsequently twice as pleasing, and thereby equal to curved lines.\n\nThe third species gradating doubly contrary ways, is thereby still\nmore pleasing in proportion to that quadruple variety which makes it\nbecome capable of conveying to the mind an equivalent in shade, which\nexpresses the beauty of the waving line, when it cannot be seen as a\nline.\n\nThe retiring shade, adequate to the serpentine line, now should follow;\nbut as the line itself could not be expressed on paper, without the\nfigure of a cone [Fig. 26 p. I], so neither can this shade be described\nwithout the assistance of a proper form, and therefore must be deferred\na little longer.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 26]\n\nWhen only the ornamental quality of shades is spoken of, for the sake\nof distinguishing them from retiring shades, let them be considered as\npencilings only; whence another advantage will arise, which is, that\nthen all the intervening mixtures, with their degrees of beauty between\neach species, may be as easily conceived, as those have been between\neach class of lines.\n\nAnd now let us have recourse to the experiments in life, for such\nexamples as may explain the retiring power of each species; since, as\nhas been before observed, they must be considered together with their\nproper forms, or else their properties cannot be well distinguished.\n\nAll the degrees of obliquity that planes, or flat surfaces are capable\nof moving into, have their appearances of recession perfected by the\nfirst species of retiring shades, which may evidently be seen by\nsetting opposite a door, as it is opening outwards from the eye, and\nfronting one light.\n\nBut it will be proper to premise, that when it is quite shut, and\nflat or parallel to the eye and window, it will have only a penciling\nshade gradating upon it, and spreading all around from the middle, but\nwhich will not have the power of giving the idea of recession any way,\nas when it opens, and the lines run in perspective to a point; because\nthe square figure or parallel lines of the door, do not correspond with\nsuch shade; but let a door be circular in the same situation, and all\nwithout side, or round about it, painted of any other colour, to make\nits figure more distinctly seen, and it will immediately appear concave\nlike a bason, the shade continually retiring; because this circular\nspecies of shade would then be accompanied by its corresponding form, a\ncircle[14].\n\n[14] Note, if the light were to come in at a very little hole not far\nfrom the door, so as to make the gradation sudden and strong, like what\nmay be made with a small candle held near a wall or a wainscot, the\nbason would appear the deeper for it.\n\nNote also, that when planes are seen parallel to the eye in open\nday-light, they have scarce any round gradating or penciling shade\nat all, but appear merely as uniform prime tints, because the rays\nof light are equally diffused upon them. Nevertheless, give them but\nobliquity, they will more or less exhibit the retiring shade.\n\nBut to return; we observ'd that all the degrees of obliquity in the\nmoving of planes or flat surfaces, have the appearances of their\nrecession perfected to the eye by the first species of retiring shade.\nFor example, then; when the door opens, and goes from its parallel\nsituation with the eye, the shade last spoken of, may be observed to\nalter and change its round gradating appearance, into that of gradating\none way only; as when a standing water takes a current upon the least\npower given it to descend.\n\nNote, if the light should come in at the door-way, instead of the\nwindow, the gradation then would be reversed but still the effect of\nrecession would be just the same, as this shade ever complies with the\nperspective lines.\n\nIn the next place, let us observe the _ovolo_, or quarter-round in\na cornice, fronting the eye in like manner, by which may be seen an\nexample of the second species; where, on its most projecting part, a\nline of light is seen, from whence these shades retire contrary ways,\nby which the curvature is understood.\n\nAnd, perhaps, in the very same cornice may be seen an example of the\nthird species, in that ornamental member called by the architects _cyma\nrecta_, or talon, which indeed is no more than a larger sort of waving\nor ogee moulding; wherein, by the convex parts gently gliding into the\nconcave, you may see four contrasted gradating shades, shewing so many\nvaried recessions from the eye; by which we are made as sensible of its\nwaving form as if we saw the profile out-line of some corner of it,\nwhere it is miter'd, as the joiners term it. Note, when these objects\nhave a little gloss on them these appearances are most distinct.\n\nLastly, the serpentine shade may be seen (light and situation as\nbefore) by the help of the following figure, as thus; imagine the horn,\nfigure 57, plate II, to be of so soft a nature, that with the fingers\nonly, it might be pressed into any shape; then beginning gently from\nthe middle of the dotted line, but pressing harder and harder all the\nway up the lesser end, by such pressure there would be as much concave\nabove, as would remain convex below, which would bring it equal in\nvariety or beauty to the ogee moulding; but after this, by giving the\nwhole a twist, like figure 58, these shades must unavoidably change\ntheir appearances, and in some measure, twist about as the concave and\nconvex parts are twisted, and consequently thereby add that variety,\nwhich of course will give this species of shade, as much the preference\nto the foregoing, as forms composed of serpentine lines have, to those\ncomposed only of the waving. See Chapter IX and Chapter X.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 57 and 58]\n\nI should not have given my reader the trouble of compleating, by the\nhelp of his imagination, the foregoing figure, but as it may contribute\nto the more ready and particular conception of that intricate variety\nwhich twisted figures give to this species of shade, and to facilitate\nhis understanding the cause of its beauty, wherever it may be seen on\nsurfaces of ornament, when it will be found no where more conspicuous\nthan in a fine face, as will be seen upon further enquiry.\n\nThe dotted line [Fig. 97 B p. I], which begins from the concave part,\nunder the arch of the brow, near the nose, and from thence winding\ndown by the corner of the eye, and there turning obliquely with the\nround of the cheek, shews the course of that twist of shades in a face,\nwhich was before described by the horn; and which may be most perfectly\nseen in the life, or in a marble busto, together with the following\nadditional circumstances still remaining to be described.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 97]\n\nAs a face is for the most part round, it is therefore apt to receive\nreflected light on its shadowy side[15], which not only adds more\nbeauty by another pleasing tender gradation, but also serves to\ndistinguish the roundness of the cheeks, &c. from such parts as sink\nand fall in: because concavities do not admit of reflections, as convex\nforms do[16].\n\n[15] Note, though I have advised the observing objects by a front\nlight, for the sake of the better distinguishing our four fundamental\nspecies of shades, yet objects in general are more advantagiously,\nand agreeably seen by light coming side-ways upon them, and therefore\ngenerally chose in paintings; as it gives an additional reflected\nsoftness, not unlike the gentle tone of an echo in music.\n\n[16] As an instance that convex and concave would appear the same, if\nthe former were to have no reflection thrown upon, observe the ovolo\nand cavetto, or channel, in a cornice, placed near together, and seen\nby a front light, when they will each of them, by turns, appear either\nconcave, or convex, as fancy shall direct.\n\nI have now only to add, that as before observed, Chapter IV, page 23,\nthat the oval hath a noble simplicity in it, more equal to its variety\nthan any other object in nature; and of which the general form of a\nface is composed; therefore, from what has been now shewn, the general\ngradation-shade belonging to it, must consequently be adequate thereto,\nand which evidently gives a delicate softness to the whole composition\nof a face; insomuch that every little dent, crack, or scratch, the\nform receives, its shadows also suffer with it, and help to shew the\nblemish. Even the least roughness interrupts and damages that soft\ngradating play of shades which fall upon it. Mr. Dryden, describing the\nlight and shades of a face, in his epistle to Sir Godfrey Kneller the\nportrait painter, seems, by the penetration of his incomparable genius,\nto have understood that language in the works of nature, which the\nlatter, by means of an exact eye and a strict obeying hand, could only\nfaithfully transcribe; when he says,\n\n    Where light to shades descending, plays, not strives,\n    Dies by degrees, and by degrees revives.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\n_Of COMPOSITION with regard to LIGHT, SHADE and COLOURS_.\n\n\nUnder this head I shall attempt shewing what it is that gives the\nappearance of that hollow or vacant space in which all things move so\nfreely; and in what manner light, shade and colours, mark or point out\nthe distances of one object from another, and occasion an agreeable\nplay upon the eye, called by the painters a fine keeping, and pleasing\ncomposition of light and shade. Herein my design is to consider this\nmatter as a performance of nature _without_, or before the eye; I mean,\nas if the objects with their shades, &c. were in fact circumstanced\nas they appear, and as the unskill'd in optics take them to be. And\nlet it be remarked throughout this chapter, that the pleasure arising\nfrom composition, as in a fine landskip, &c. is chiefly owing to the\ndispositions and assemblages of light and shades, which are so order'd\nby the principles called OPPOSITION, BREADTH and SIMPLICITY, as to\nproduce a just and distinct perception of the objects before us.\n\nExperience teaches us that the eye may be subdued and forced into\nforming and disposing of objects even quite contrary to what it would\nnaturally see them, by the prejudgment of the mind from the better\nauthority of feeling, or some other persuasive motive. But surely this\nextraordinary perversion of the sight would not have been suffer'd,\ndid it not tend to great and necessary purposes, in rectifying some\ndeficiencies which it would otherwise be subject to (tho' we must own\nat the same time, that the mind itself may be so imposed upon as to\nmake the eye see falsely as well as truly) for example, were it not\nfor this controul over the sight, it is well known, that we should not\nonly see things double, but upside down, as they are painted upon the\nretina, and as each eye has a distinct sight. And then as to distances;\na fly upon a pane of glass is sometimes imagined a crow, or larger\nbird afar off, till some circumstance hath rectified the mistake, and\nconvinced us of its real size and place.\n\nHence I would infer, that the eye generally gives its assent to such\nspace and distances as have been first measured by the feeling, or\notherwise calculated in the mind: which measurements and calculations\nare equally, if not more, in the power of a blind man, as was fully\nexperienced by that incomparable mathematician and wonder of his age,\nthe late professor Sanderson.\n\nBy pursuing this observation on the faculties of the mind, an idea\nmay be formed of the means by which we attain to the perception or\nappearance of an immense space surrounding us; which cavity, being\nsubject to divisions and subdivisions in the mind, is afterwards\nfashioned by the limited power of the eye, first into a hemisphere, and\nthen into the appearance of different distances, which are pictured to\nit by means of such dispositions of light and shade as shall next be\ndescribed. And these I now desire may be looked upon, but as so many\n_marks_ or _types_ set upon these distances, and which are remember'd\nand learnt by degrees, and when learnt, are recurred to upon all\noccasions.\n\nIf permitted then to consider light and shades as _types of\ndistinction_, they become, as it were, our materials, of which _prime\ntints_ are the principal; by these, I mean the fixed and permanent\ncolours of each object, as the green of trees, &c. which serve the\npurposes of separating and relieving the several objects by the\ndifferent strengths or shades of them being opposed to each other [Fig.\n86 T p. II].\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 86]\n\nThe other shades that have been before spoken of, serve and help to\nthe like purposes when properly opposed; but as in nature they are\ncontinually fleeting and changing their appearances, either by our or\ntheir situations, they sometimes oppose and relieve, and sometimes not,\nas for instance; I once observed the tower-part of a steeple so exactly\nthe colour of a light cloud behind it, that, at the distance I stood,\nthere was not the least distinction to be made, so that the spire (of a\nlead-colour) seemed suspended in the air; but had a cloud of the like\ntint with the steeple, supplied the place of the white one, the tower\nwould then have been relieved and distinct, when the spire would have\nbeen lost to the view.\n\nNor is it sufficient that objects are of different colours or shades,\nto shew their distances from the eye, if one does not in part hide or\nlay over the other, as in fig. 86.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 90]\n\nFor as fig. [90 T p. II] the two equal balls, tho' one were black and\nthe other white, placed on the separate walls, supposed distant from\neach other twenty or thirty feet, nevertheless, may seem both to rest\nupon one, if the tops of the walls are level with the eye; but when\none ball hides part of the other, as in the same figure, we begin\nto apprehend they are upon different walls, which is determin'd by\nthe perspective[17]: hence you will see the reason, why the steeple\nof Bloomsbury-church, in coming from Hampstead, seems to stand upon\nMontague-house, tho' it is several hundred yards distant from it.\n\n[17] The knowledge of perspective is no small help to the seeing\nobjects truly, for which purpose Dr. Brook Taylor's Linear perspective\nmade easy to those who are unacquainted with geometry, proposed to be\npublish'd soon by Mr. Kirby of Ipswich, may be of most service.\n\nSince then the opposition of one prime tint or shade to another,\nhath so great a share in marking out the recessions, or distances in\na prospect, by which the eye is led onward step by step, it becomes a\nprinciple of consequence enough to be further discussed, with regard to\nthe management of it in compositions of nature, as well as art. As to\nthe management of it, when seen only from one point, the artist hath\nthe advantage over nature, because such fix'd dispositions of shades as\nhe hath artfully put together, cannot be displaced by the alteration\nof light, for which reason, designs done in two prime tints only, will\nsufficiently represent all those recessions, and give a just keeping to\nthe representation of a prospect, in a print; whereas, the oppositions\nin nature, depending, as has been before hinted, on accidental\nsituations and uncertain incidents, do not always make such pleasing\ncomposition, and would therefore have been very often deficient, had\nnature worked in two colours only; for which reason she hath provided\nan infinite number of materials, not only by way of prevention, but to\nadd lustre and beauty to her works.\n\nBy an infinite number of materials, I mean colours and shades of\nall kinds and degrees; some notion of which variety may be formed by\nsupposing a piece of white silk by several dippings gradually dyed to\na black; and carrying it in like manner through the prime tints of\nyellow, red, and blue; and then again, by making the like progress\nthrough all the mixtures that are to be made of these three original\ncolours. So that when we survey this infinite and immense variety, it\nis no wonder, that, let the light or objects be situated or changed\nhow they will, oppositions seldom miss; nor that even every incident\nof shade should sometimes be so completely disposed as to admit of no\nfurther beauty, as to composition; and from whence the artist hath by\nobservation taken his principles of imitation, as in the following\nrespect.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 89]\n\nThose objects which are intended most to affect the eye, and come\nforwardest to the view, must have large, strong, and smart oppositions,\nlike the fore-ground in fig. [89 p. II], and what are designed to be\nthrown further off, must be made still weaker and weaker, as expressed\nin figures 86, 92, and 93, which receding in order make a kind of\ngradation of oppositions; to which, and all the other circumstances\nalready described, both for recession, and beauty, nature hath\nadded what is known by the name of aerial perspective; being that\ninterposition of air, which throws a general soft retiring tint over\nthe whole prospect; to be seen in excess at the rising of a fog. All\nwhich again receives still more distinctness, as well as a greater\ndegree of variety, when the sun shines bright, and casts broad shadows\nof one object upon another; which gives the skilful designer such hints\nfor shewing broad and fine oppositions of shades, as give life and\nspirit to his performances.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 92 and 93]\n\nBREADTH of SHADE is a principle that assists in making distinction\nmore conspicuous; thus fig. [87 p. I], is better distinguish'd by its\nbreadth or quantity of shade, and view'd with more ease and pleasure\nat any distance, than fig. [88 p. I], which hath many, and these but\nnarrow shades between the folds. And for one of the noblest instances\nof this, let Windsor-castle be viewed at the rising or setting of the\nsun.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 87 and 88]\n\nLet breadth be introduced how it will, it always gives great repose to\nthe eye; as on the contrary, when lights and shades in a composition\nare scattered about in little spots, the eye is constantly disturbed,\nand the mind is uneasy, especially if you are eager to understand every\nobject in the composition, as it is painful to the ear when any one is\nanxious to know what is said in company, where many are talking at the\nsame time.\n\nSIMPLICITY (which I am last to speak of) in the disposition of a great\nvariety, is best accomplished by following nature's constant rule,\nof dividing composition into three or five parts, or parcels, see\nChapter IV on simplicity: the painters accordingly divide theirs into\nfore-ground, middle-ground, and distance or back-ground; which simple\nand distinct quantities _mass_ together that variety which entertains\nthe eye; as the different parts of base, tenor, and treble, in a\ncomposition in music, entertain the ear.\n\nLet these principles be reversed, or neglected, the the light and shade\nwill appear as disagreeable as fig. [91 T p. II], whereas, was this to\nbe a composition of lights and shades only, properly disposed, tho'\nranged under no particular figures, it might still have the pleasing\neffect of a picture. And here, as it would be endless to enter upon the\ndifferent effects of lights and shades on lucid and transparent bodies,\nwe shall leave them to the reader's observation, and so conclude this\nchapter.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 91]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV.\n\n_Of COLOURING_.\n\n\nBy the beauty of colouring, the painters mean that disposition of\ncolours on objects, together with their proper shades, which appear\nat the same time both distinctly varied and artfully united, in\ncompositions of any kind; but, by way of pre-eminence, it is generally\nunderstood of flesh-colour, when no other composition is named.\n\nTo avoid confusion, and having already said enough of retiring\nshades, I shall now only describe the nature and effect of the prime\ntint of flesh; for the composition of this, when rightly understood,\ncomprehends every thing that can be said of the colouring of all other\nobjects whatever.\n\nAnd herein (as has been shewn in Chapter VIII, of the manner of\ncomposing pleasing forms) the whole process will depend upon the art of\nvarying; i. e. upon an artful manner of varying every colour belonging\nto flesh, under the direction of the six fundamental principles there\nspoken of.\n\nBut before we proceed to shew in what manner these principles conduce\nto this design, we shall take a view of nature's curious ways of\nproducing all sorts of complexions, which may help to further our\nconception of the principles of varying colours, so as to see why they\ncause the effect of beauty.\n\nIt is well known, the fair young girl, the brown old man, and the\nnegro; nay, all mankind, have the same appearance, and are alike\ndisagreeable to the eye, when the upper skin is taken away: now to\nconceal so disagreeable an object, and to produce that variety of\ncomplexions seen in the world, nature hath contrived a transparent\nskin, called the cuticula, with a lining to it of a very extraordinary\nkind, called the cutis; both which are so thin any little scald\nwill make them blister and peel off. These adhering skins are more\nor less transparent in some parts of the body than in others, and\nlikewise different in different persons. The cuticula alone is like\ngold-beaters-skin, a little wet, but somewhat thinner, especially\nin fair young people, which would shew the fat, lean, and all the\nblood-vessels, just as they lie under it, as through Isinglass, were it\nnot for its lining the cutis, which is so curiously constructed, as to\nexhibit those things beneath it which are necessary to life and motion,\nin pleasing arrangements and dispositions of beauty.\n\nThe cutis is composed of tender threads like network, fill'd with\ndifferent colour'd juices. The white juice serves to make the very fair\ncomplexion;--yellow, makes the brunnet;--brownish yellow, the ruddy\nbrown;--green yellow, the olive;--dark brown, the mulatto;--black, the\nnegro;--These different colour'd juices, together with the different\n_meshes_ of the network, and the size of its threads in this or that\npart, causes the variety of complexions.\n\nA description of this manner of its shewing the rosy colour of the\ncheek, and, in like manner, the bluish tints about the temple, &c. see\nin the profile [fig. 95 T p. II], where you are to suppose the black\nstrokes of the print to be the white threads of the network, and where\nthe strokes are thickest, and the part blackest, you are to suppose the\nflesh would be whitest; so that the lighter part of it stands for the\nvermilion-colour of the cheek, gradating every way.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 95]\n\nSome persons have the network so equally wove over the whole body, face\nand all, that the greatest heat or cold will hardly make them change\ntheir colour; and these are seldom seen to blush, tho' ever so bashful,\nwhilst the texture is so fine in some young women, that they redden, or\nturn pale, on the least occasion.\n\nI am apt to think the texture of this network is of a very tender\nkind, subject to damage many ways, but able to recover itself again,\nespecially in youth. The fair fat healthy child of 3 or 4 years old\nhath it in great perfection; most visible when it is moderately warm,\nbut till that age somewhat imperfect.\n\nIt is in this manner, then, that nature seems to do her work.--And\nnow let us see how by art the like appearance may be made and penciled\non the surface of a uniform coloured statue of wax or marble; by\ndescribing which operation we shall still more particularly point out\nwhat is to our present purpose: I mean the reason why the order nature\nhath thus made use of should strike us with the idea of beauty; which\nby the way, perhaps may be of more use to some painters than they will\ncare to own.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 94]\n\nThere are but three original colours in painting besides black and\nwhite, viz. red, yellow and blue. Green, and purple, are compounded;\nthe first of blue and yellow, the latter of red and blue: however these\ncompounds being so distinctly different from the original colours,\nwe will rank them as such. Fig. [94 T p. II], represents mixt up, as\non a painter's pallet, scales of these five original colours divided\ninto seven classes--1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7.--4, is the medium, and most\nbrillant class, being that which will appear a firm red, when those of\n5, 6, 7, would deviate into white, and those of 1, 2, 3, would sink\ninto black, either by twilight or at a moderate distance from the\neye, which shews 4 to be brightest, and a more permanent colour than\nthe rest. But as white is nearest to light it may be said to be equal\nif not superior in value as to beauty, with class 4. Therefore the\nclasses 5, 6, 7, have also, almost equal beauty with it too, because\nwhat they lose of their brillancy and permanency of colour, they gain\nfrom the white or light; whereas 3, 2, 1, absolutely lose their beauty\nby degrees as they approach nearer to black, the representative of\ndarkness.\n\nLet us then, for distinction and pre-eminence sake, call class 4 of\neach colour, _bloom tints_, or if you please, virgin tints, as the\npainters call them; and once more recollect, that in the disposition\nof colours as well as of forms, variety, simplicity, distinctness,\nintricacy, uniformity and quantity, direct in giving beauty to the\ncolouring of the human frame, especially if we include the face, where\nuniformity and strong opposition of tints are required, as in the eyes\nand mouth, which call most for our attention. But for the general hue\nof flesh now to be described, variety, intricacy and simplicity, are\nchiefly required.\n\nThe value of the degrees of colour being thus consider'd and ranged in\norder upon the pallet, figure 94, let us next apply them to a busto,\nfig. [96 R p. II], of white marble, which may be supposed to let every\ntint sink into it, like as a drop of ink sinks in and spreads itself\nupon course paper, whereby each tint will gradate all around.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 96]\n\nIf you would have the neck of the busto tinged of a very florid and\nlively complexion, the pencil must be dipt in the bloom tints of\neach colour as they stand one above another at No. 4.--if for a less\nflorid, in those of No. 5--if for a very fair, from No. 6--and so on\ntill the marble would scarce be ting'd at all: let therefore No. 6, be\nour present choice, and begin with penciling on the red, as at r, the\nyellow tint at y, the blue tint at b, and the purple or lake tint at p.\n\nThese four tints thus laid on, proceed to covering the whole neck and\nbreast, but still changing and varying the situations of the tints with\none another, also causing their shapes and sizes to differ as much as\npossible; red must be oftenest repeated, yellow next often, purple red\nnext, and blue but seldom, except in particular parts as the temples,\nbacks of the hands, &c. where the larger veins shew their branching\nshapes (sometimes too distinctly) still varying those appearances.\nBut there are no doubt infinite variations in nature, from what may\nbe called the most beautiful order and disposition of the colours in\nflesh, not only in different persons, but in different parts of the\nsame, all subject to the same principles in some degree or other.\n\nNow if we imagine this whole process to be made with the tender tints\nof class 7, as they are supposed to stand, red, yellow, blue, green and\npurple, underneath each other; the general hue of the performance will\nbe a seeming uniform prime tint, at any little distance, that is a very\nfair, transparent and pearl-like complexion; but never quite uniform as\nsnow, ivory, marble or wax, like a poet's mistress, for either of these\nin living-flesh, would in truth be hideous.\n\nAs in nature, by the general yellowish hue of the cuticula, the\ngradating of one colour into another appears to be more delicately\nsoften'd and united together; so will the colours we are supposed to\nhave been laying upon the busto, appear to be more united and mellowed\nby the oils they are ground in, which takes a yellowish cast after a\nlittle time, but is apt to do more mischief hereby than good; for which\nreason care is taken to procure such oil as is clearest, and will best\nkeep its colour[18] in oil painting.\n\n[18] Notwithstanding the deep-rooted notion, even among the majority of\npainters themselves, that time is a great improver of good pictures,\nI will undertake to shew, that nothing can be more absurd. Having\nmention'd above the whole effect of the oil, let us now see in what\nmanner time operates on colours themselves; in order to discover if any\nchanges in them can give a picture more union and harmony than has been\nin the power of a skilful master, with all his rules of art, to do.\nWhen colours change at all it must be somewhat in the manner following,\nfor as they are made some of metal, some of earth, some of stone,\nand others of more perishable materials, time cannot operate on them\notherwise than as by daily experience we find it doth, which is, that\none changes darker, another lighter, one quite to a different colour,\nwhilst another, as ultramarine, will keep its natural brightness\neven in the fire. Therefore how is it possible that such different\nmaterials, ever variously changing (visibly after a certain time)\nshould accidentally coincide with the artist's intention, and bring\nabout the greater harmony of the piece, when it is manifestly contrary\nto their nature, for do we not see in most collections that much time\ndisunites, untunes, blackens, and by degrees destroys even the best\npreserved pictures.\n\nBut if for argument sake we suppose, that the colours were to fall\nequally together, let us see what advantage this would give to any sort\nof composition. We will begin with a flower-piece: when a master hath\npainted a rose, a lily, an african, a gentianella, or violet, with\nhis best art, and brightest colours, how far short do they fall of\nthe freshness and rich brillancy of nature; and shall we wish to see\nthem fall still lower, more faint, sullied, and dirtied by the hand\nof time, and then admire them as having gained an additional beauty,\nand call them mended and heightened, rather than fouled, and in a\nmanner destroy'd; how absurd! Instead of mellow and softened therefore,\nalways read yellow and sullied, for this is doing time the destroyer,\nbut common justice. Or shall we desire to see complexions, which in\nlife are often, literally, as brillant as the flowers above-mention'd,\nserved in the like ungrateful manner. In a landskip, will the water\nbe more transparent, or the sky shine with a greater lustre when\nembrown'd and darken'd by decay? surely no. I own it would be a pity\nthat Mr. Addison's beautiful description of time at work in the gallery\nof pictures, and the following lines of Mr. Dryden, should want a\nsufficient foundation;--\n\n    For time shall with his ready pencil stand,\n    Retouch your figures with his ripening hand;\n    Mellow your colours, and imbrown the tint;\n    Add every grace which time alone can grant;\n    To future ages shall your fame convey,\n    And give more beauties than he takes away.   Dryden to Kneller.\n\nwere it not that the error they are built upon, hath been a continual\nblight to the growth of the art, by misguiding both the proficient,\nand the encourager; and often compelling the former, contrary to his\njudgment, to imitate the damaged hue of decayed pictures; so that when\nhis works undergo the like injuries, they must have a double remove\nfrom nature; which puts it in the power of the meanest observer to see\nhis deficiencies. Whence another absurd notion hath taken rise, viz.\nthat the colours now-a-days do not stand so well as formerly; whereas\ncolours well prepared, in which there is but little art or expence,\nhave, and will always have, the same properties in every age, and\nwithout accidents, as damps, bad varnish, and the like (being laid\nseparate and pure,) will stand and keep together for many years in\ndefiance of time itself.\n\nIn proof of this, let any one take a view of the cieling at\nGreenwich-hospital, painted by Sir James Thornhil, forty years ago,\nwhich still remains fresh, strong and clear as if it had been finished\nbut yesterday: and altho' several french writers have so learnedly,\nand philosophically proved, that the air of this island is too thick,\nor--too something, for the genius of a painter; yet France in all\nher palaces can hardly boast of a nobler, more judicious, or richer\nperformance of its kind. Note, the upper end of the hall where the\nroyal family is painted, was left chiefly to the pencil of Mr. Andrea\na foreigner, after the payment originally agreed upon for the work was\nso much reduced, as made it not worth Sir James's while to finish the\nwhole with his own more masterly hand.\n\nUpon the whole of this account we find, that the utmost beauty of\ncolouring depends on the great principle of varying by all the means\nof varying, and on the proper and artful union of that variety; which\nmay be farther proved by supposing the rules here laid down, all or any\npart of them reversed.\n\nI am apt to believe, that the not knowing nature's artful, and\nintricate method of uniting colours for the production of the\nvariegated composition, or prime tint of flesh, hath made colouring,\nin the art of painting, a kind of mystery in all ages; insomuch, that\nit may fairly be said, out of the many thousands who have labour'd to\nattain it, not above ten or twelve painters have happily succeeded\ntherein, Corregio (who lived in a country-village, and had nothing but\nthe life to study after) is said almost to have stood alone for this\nparticular excellence. Guido, who made beauty his chief aim, was always\nat a loss about it. Poussin scarce ever obtained a glimpse of it, as\nis manifest by his many different attempts: indeed France hath not\nproduced one remarkably good colourist[19].\n\n[19] The lame excuse writers on painting have made for the many great\nmasters that have fail'd in this particular, is, that they purposely\ndeaden'd their colours, and kept them, what they affectedly call'd\n_chaste_, that the correctness of their outlines might be seen to\ngreater advantage. Whereas colours cannot be too brillant if properly\ndisposed, because the distinction of the parts are thereby made more\nperfect; as may be seen by comparing a marble busto with the variegated\ncolours of the face either in the life, or well painted: it is true,\nuncomposed variety, either in the features or the limbs, as being\ndaubed with many, or one colour, will so confound the parts as to\nrender them unintelligible.\n\nRubens boldly, and in a masterly manner, kept his bloom tints bright,\nseparate, and distinct, but sometimes too much so for easel or cabinet\npictures; however, his manner was admirably well calculated for great\nworks, to be seen at a considerable distance, such as his celebrated\ncieling at Whitehall-chapel[20]: which upon a nearer view, will\nillustrate what I have advanc'd with regard to the separate brightness\nof the tints; and shew, what indeed is known to every painter, that\nhad the colours there seen so bright and separate, been all smooth'd\nand absolutely blended together, they would have produced a dirty grey\ninstead of flesh-colour. The difficulty then lies in bringing _blue_\nthe third original colour, into flesh, on account of the vast variety\nintroduced thereby; and this omitted, all the difficulty ceases; and a\ncommon sign-painter that lays his colours smooth, instantly becomes, in\npoint of colouring, a Rubens, a Titian, or a Corregio.\n\n[20] The front of this building by Inigo Jones, is an additional\nexemplification of the principles for varying the parts in building;\n(explained by the candlesticks, &c. Chapter VIII) which would appear\nto be a stronger proof still, were a building formed of squares, on\nsquares; with squares uniformly cut in each square to be opposed to it,\nto shew the reverse.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV.\n\n_Of the FACE_.\n\n\nHaving thus spoken briefly of light, shade, and colour, we now return\nto our lineal account of form, as proposed (page 91) with regard to\nthe face. It is an observation, that, out of the great number of faces\nthat have been form'd since the creation of the world, no two have\nbeen so exactly alike, but that the usual and common discernment of\nthe eye would discover a difference between them: therefore it is not\nunreasonable to suppose, that this discernment is still capable of\nfurther improvements by instructions from a methodical enquiry; which\nthe ingenious Mr. Richardson, in his treatise on painting, terms _the\nart of seeing_.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 97]\n\n1. I shall begin with a description of such lines as compose the\nfeatures of a face of the highest taste, and the reverse. See fig. [97,\nB p. I], taken from an antique head, which stands in the first rank of\nestimation: in proof of this, Raphael Urbin, and other great painters\nand sculptors, have imitated it for the characters of their heroes\nand other great men; and the old man's head, fig. [98, L p. I] was\nmodel'd in clay, by Fiamingo (and not inferior in its taste of lines,\nto the best antique) for the use of Andrea Sacchi, after which model he\npainted all the heads in his famous picture of St. Romoaldo's dream;\nand this picture hath the reputation of being one of the best pictures\nin the world[21].\n\n[21] Note, I must refer the reader to the casts of both these pieces\nof sculpture, which are to be found in the hands of the curious;\nbecause it is impossible to express all that I intend, with sufficient\naccuracy, in a print of this size, whatever pains might have been taken\nwith it; or indeed in any print were it ever so large.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 98]\n\nThese examples are here chosen to exemplify and confirm the force\nof serpentine lines in a face; and let it also be observed, that in\nthese master-pieces of art, all the parts are otherwise consistent\nwith the rules heretofore laid down: I shall therefore only shew the\neffects and use of the line of beauty. One way of proving in what\nmanner the serpentine line appears to operate in this respect, may be\nby pressing several pieces of wire close up and down the different\nparts of the face and features of those casts; which wires will all\ncome off so many serpentine lines, as is partly marked in figure 97, by\nthe dotted lines. The beard and hair of the head, fig. 98, being a set\nof loose lines naturally, and therefore disposable at the painter's or\nsculptor's pleasure, are remarkably composed in this head of nothing\nelse but a varied play of serpentine lines, twisting together in a\nflame-like manner.\n\nBut as imperfections are easier to be imitated than perfections, we\nshall now have it in our power to explain the latter more fully; by\nshewing the reverse in several degrees, down to the most contemptible\nmeanness that lines can be form'd into.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 99-105]\n\nFigure 99, is the first degree of deviation from figure 97; where the\nlines are made straighter, and reduced in quantity; deviating still\nmore in figure 100, more yet in figure 101, and yet more visibly in\n102; figure 103, still more so; figure 104 is totally divested of all\nlines of elegance, like a barber's block; and 105 is composed merely\nof such plain lines as children make, when of themselves they begin to\nimitate in drawing a human face. It is evident, the inimitable Butler\nwas sensible of the mean and ridiculous effect of such kind of lines,\nby the description he gives of the shape of Hudibras's beard, fig. [106\nL p. I],\n\n    In cut and dye so like a tile,\n    A sudden view it would beguile.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 106]\n\n2. With regard to character and expression; we have daily many\ninstances which confirm the common received opinion, that the face is\nthe index of the mind; and this maxim is so rooted in us, we can scarce\nhelp (if our attention is a little raised) forming some particular\nconception of the person's mind whose face we are observing, even\nbefore we receive information by any other means. How often is it\nsaid, on the slightest view, that such a one looks like a good-natur'd\nman, that he hath an honest open countenance, or looks like a cunning\nrogue; a man of sense, or a fool, &c. And how are our eyes riveted\nto the aspects of kings and heroes, murderers and saints; and as we\ncontemplate their deeds, seldom fail making application to their looks.\nIt is reasonable to believe that aspect to be a true and legible\nrepresentation of the mind, which gives everyone the same idea at first\nsight; and is afterwards confirm'd in fact: for instance, all concur in\nthe same opinion, at first sight, of a down-right idiot.\n\nThere is but little to be seen by childrens faces, more than that\nthey are heavy or lively; and scarcely that unless they are in motion.\nVery handsom faces of almost any age, will hide a foolish or a wicked\nmind till they betray themselves by their actions or their words: yet\nthe frequent aukward movements of the muscles of the fool's face, tho'\never so handsom, is apt in time to leave such traces up and down it,\nas will distinguish a defect of mind upon examination: but the bad\nman, if he be a hypocrite, may so manage his muscles, by teaching them\nto contradict his heart, that little of his mind can be gather'd from\nhis countenance, so that the character of an hypocrite is entirely out\nof the power of the pencil, without some adjoining circumstance to\ndiscover him, as smiling and stabbing at the same time, or the like.\n\nIt is by the natural and unaffected movements of the muscles, caused\nby the passions of the mind, that every man's character would in some\nmeasure be written in his face, by the time he arrives at forty years\nof age, were it not for certain accidents which often, tho' not always\nprevent it. For the ill-natur'd man, by frequently frowning, and\npouting out the muscles of his mouth, doth in time bring those parts to\na constant state of the appearance of ill-nature, which might have been\nprevented by the constant affectation of a smile; and so of the other\npassions: tho' there are some that do not affect the muscles at all\nsimply of themselves, as love and hope.\n\nBut least I should be thought to lay too great a stress on outward\nshew, like a physiognomist, take this with you, that it is acknowledg'd\nthere are so many different causes which produce the same kind of\nmovements and appearances of the features, and so many thwartings by\naccidental shapes in the make of faces, that the old adage, fronti\nnulla fides, will ever stand its ground upon the whole; and for very\nwise reasons nature hath thought fit it should. But, on the other\nhand, as in many particular cases, we receive information from the\nexpressions of the countenance, what follows is meant to give a lineal\ndescription of the language written therein.\n\nIt may not be amiss just to look over the passions of the mind, from\ntranquillity to extreme despair; as they are in order described in the\ncommon drawing-book, called, Le Brun's passions of the mind; selected\nfrom that great master's works for the use of learners; where you may\nhave a compendious view of all the common expressions at once. And\naltho' these are but imperfect copies, they will answer our purpose in\nthis place better than any other thing I can refer you to; because the\npassions are there ranged in succession, and distinctly marked with\nlines only, the shadows being omitted.\n\nSome features are formed so as to make this or that expression\nof a passion more or less legible; for example, the little narrow\nchinese eye suits a loving or laughing expression best, as a large\nfull eye doth those of fierceness and astonishment; and round-rising\nmuscles will appear with some degree of chearfulness even in sorrow:\nthe features thus suiting with the expressions that have been often\nrepeated in the face, at length mark it with such lines as sufficiently\ndistinguish the character of the mind.\n\nThe ancients in their lowest characters have shewn as much judgment,\nand as great a degree of taste in the management and twisting of the\nlines of them, as in their statues of a sublimer kind; in the former\nvarying only from the precise line of grace in some parts where the\ncharacter or action required it. The dying gladiator and the dancing\nfawn, the former a slave, the latter a wild clown, are sculptored in\nas high a taste of lines as the Antinous or the Apollo; with this\ndifference, that the precise line of grace abounds more in the two\nlast: notwithstanding which it is generally allow'd there is equal\nmerit in the former, as there is near as much judgment required for\nthe execution of them. Human nature can hardly be represented more\ndebased than in the character of the Silenus, fig. [107 p. I], where\nthe bulging-line figure 49, No. 7, runs through all the features of the\nface, as well as the other parts of his swinish body: whereas in the\nsatyr of the wood, tho' the ancients have joined the brute with the\nman, we still see preserved an elegant display of serpentine lines,\nthat make it a graceful figure.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 107 and 49]\n\nIndeed the works of art have need of the whole advantage of this line\nto make up for its other deficiencies: for tho' in nature's works the\nline of beauty is often neglected, or mixt with plain lines, yet so\nfar are they from being defective on this account, that by this means\nthere is exhibited that infinite variety of human forms which always\ndistinguishes the hand of nature from the limited and insufficient\none of art; and as thus she for the sake of variety upon the whole,\ndeviates sometimes into plain and inelegant lines, if the poor artist\nis but able now and then to correct and give a better taste to some\nparticular part of what he imitates, by having learnt so to do from\nher more perfect works, or copying from those that have, ten to one\nhe grows vain upon it, and fancies himself a nature-mender; not\nconsidering, that even in these, the meanest of her works, she is never\nwholly destitute of such lines of beauty and other delicacies, as are\nnot only beyond his narrow reach, but are seen wanting even in the most\ncelebrated attempts to rival her. But to return,\n\nAs to what we call plain lines, there is this remarkable effect\nconstantly produced by them, that being more or less conspicuous in any\nkind of character or expression of the face, they bring along with them\ncertain degrees of a foolish or ridiculous aspect.\n\nIt is the inelegance of these lines which more properly belonging to\ninanimate bodies, and being seen where lines of more beauty and taste\nare expected, that renders the face silly and ridiculous. See Chapter\nVI, p. 31.\n\nChildren in infancy have movements in the muscles of their faces\npeculiar to their age, as an uninformed and unmeaning stare, an open\nmouth, and simple grin: all which expressions are chiefly formed of\nplain curves, and these movements and expressions ideots are apt to\nretain; so that in time they mark their faces with these uncouth lines;\nand when the lines coincide and agree with the natural forms of the\nfeatures, it becomes a more apparent and confirmed character of an\nideot. These plain shapes last mentioned, sometimes happen to people of\nthe best sense, to some when the features are at rest, to others when\nthey are put into motion; which a variety of constant regular movements\nproceeding from a good understanding, and fashioned by a genteel\neducation, will often by degrees correct into lines of more elegance.\n\nThat particular expression likewise of the face, or movement of a\nfeature which becomes one person, shall be disagreeable in another,\njust as such expressions or turns chance to fall in with lines of\nbeauty, or the reverse; for this reason there are pretty frowns and\ndisagreeable smiles: the lines that form a pleasing smile about the\ncorners of the mouth have gentle windings, as fig. [108 L p. II],\nbut lose their beauty in the full laugh, as fig. [109 L p. II], the\nexpression of excessive laughter, oftener than any other, gives a\nsensible face a silly or disagreeable look, as it is apt to form\nregular plain lines about the mouth, like a parenthesis, which\nsometimes appears like crying; as, on the contrary, I remember to\nhave seen a beggar who had clouted up his head very artfully, and\nwhose visage was thin and pale enough to excite pity, but his features\nwere otherwise so unfortunately form'd for his purpose, that what he\nintended for a grin of pain and misery, was rather a joyous laugh.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 108 and 109]\n\nIt is strange that nature hath afforded us so many lines and shapes to\nindicate the deficiencies and blemishes of the mind, whilst there are\nnone at all that point out the perfections of it beyond the appearance\nof common sense and placidity. Deportment, words, and actions, must\nspeak the good, the wise, the witty, the humane, the generous, the\nmerciful, and the brave. Nor are gravity and solemn looks always signs\nof wisdom: the mind much occupied with trifles will occasion as grave\nand sagacious an aspect, as if it were charged with matters of the\nutmost moment; the balance-master's attention to a single point, in\norder to preserve his balance, may look as wise at that time as the\ngreatest philosopher in the depth of his studies. All that the ancient\nsculptors could do, notwithstanding their enthusiastic endeavours to\nraise the characters of their deities to aspects of sagacity above\nhuman, was to give them features of beauty. Their god of wisdom\nhath no more in his look than a handsom manliness; the Jupiter is\ncarried somewhat higher, by giving it a little more severity than\nthe Apollo, by a larger prominency of brow gently bending in seeming\nthoughtfulness, with an ample beard, which being added to the noble\nquantity of its other lines, invests that capital piece of sculpture\nwith uncommon dignity, which, in the mysterious language of a profound\nconnoisseur, is stiled a divine idea, inconceivably great, and above\nnature.\n\n3dly and lastly, I shall shew in what manner the lines of the face\nalter from infancy upwards, and specify the different ages. We are now\nto pay most attention to _simplicity_, as the difference of ages we are\nabout to speak of, turn chiefly upon the use made of this principle in\na greater or less degree, in the form of the lines.\n\nFrom infancy till the body has done growing, the contents both of the\nbody and the face, and every part of their surface, are daily changing\ninto more variety, till they obtain a certain medium (see page 78 on\nproportion) from which medium, as fig. [113 B p. II], if we return back\nto infancy, we shall see the variety decreasing, till by degrees that\nsimplicity in the form, which gave variety its due limits, deviates\ninto sameness; so that all the parts of the face may be circumscribed\nin several circles, as fig. [116 L p. II].\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 113 and 116]\n\nBut there is another very extraordinary circumstance, (perhaps never\ntaken notice of before in this light) which nature hath given us to\ndistinguish one age from another by; which is, that tho' every feature\ngrows larger and longer, till the whole person has done growing, the\nsight of the eye still keeps its original size; I mean the pupil, with\nits iris or ring; for the diameter of this circle continues still the\nsame, and so becomes a fixt measure by which we, as it were, insensibly\ncompare the daily perceiv'd growings of the other parts of the face,\nand thereby determine a young person's age. You may sometimes find this\npart of the eye in a new-born infant, full as large as in a man of six\nfoot; nay, sometimes larger, see fig. [110 B p. II], [114 B p. II] and\n[115 T p. I] which represents three different sizes of the pupil of the\neye; the least, was exactly taken from the eye of a large-featur'd man,\naged 105, the biggest, from one of twenty, who had this part larger\nthan ordinary, and the other is the common size. If this part of the\neye in the pictures of Charles II. and James II. painted by Vandyke at\nKensington, were to be measured with a pair of compasses, and compared\nwith their pictures painted by Lilly when they were men, the diameters\nwould be found in both pictures respectively the same.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 110, 114 and 115]\n\nIn infancy the faces of boys and girls have no visible difference, but\nas they grow up the features of the boy get the start, and grow faster\nin proportion to the ring of the eye, than those of the girl, which\nshews the distinction of the sex in the face. Boys who have larger\nfeatures than ordinary, in proportion to the rings of their eyes, are\nwhat we call manly-featured children; as those who have the contrary,\nlook more childish and younger than they really are. It is this\nproportion of the features with the eyes, that makes women, when they\nare dressed in mens-cloaths, look so young and boyish: but as nature\ndoth not always stick close to these particulars, we may be mistaken\nboth in sexes and ages.\n\nBy these obvious appearances, and the differences of the whole size,\nwe easily judge of ages till twenty, but not with such certainty\nafterwards; for the alterations from that age are of a different kind,\nsubject to other changes by growing fatter or leaner, which it is well\nknown, often give a different turn to the look of the person, with\nregard to his age.\n\nThe hair of the head, which encompasses a face as a frame doth a\npicture, and contrasts with its uniform colour, the variegated inclosed\ncomposition, adding more or less beauty thereto, according as it is\ndisposed by the rules of art, is another indication of advanced age.\n\nWhat remains to be said on the different appearances of ages, being\nless pleasing than what has gone before, shall be described with more\nbrevity. In the age from twenty to thirty, barring accidents, there\nappears but little change, either in the colours or the lines of the\nface; for tho' the bloom tints may go off a little, yet on the other\nhand, the make of the features often attain a sort of settled firmness\nin them, aided by an air of acquired sensibility; which makes ample\namends for that loss, and keeps beauty till thirty pretty much upon a\npar; after this time, as the alterations grow more and more visible,\nwe perceive the sweet simplicity of many rounding parts of the face,\nbegin to break into dented shapes, with more sudden turns about the\nmuscles, occasioned by their many repeated movements; as also by\ndividing the broad parts, and thereby taking off the large sweeps of\nthe serpentine lines; the shades of beauty also consequently suffering\nin their softnesses. Something of what is here meant between the two\nages of thirty and fifty, see in figures [117 and 118 B p. II], and\nwhat further havock time continues to make after the age of fifty, is\ntoo remarkable to need describing: the strokes and cuts he then lays on\nare plain enough; however, in spite of all his malice, those lineaments\nthat have once been elegant, retain their flowing turns in venerable\nage, leaving to the last a comely piece of ruins.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 117 and 118]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI.\n\n_Of ATTITUDE_.\n\n\nSuch dispositions of the body and limbs as appear most graceful when\nseen at rest, depend upon gentle winding contrasts, mostly govern'd\nby the precise serpentine line, which in attitudes of authority, are\nmore extended and spreading than ordinary, but reduced somewhat below\nthe medium of grace, in those of negligence and ease: and as much\nexaggerated in insolent and proud carriage, or in distortions of pain\n(see figure 9, plate I) as lessen'd and contracted into plain and\nparallel lines, to express meanness, aukwardness, and submission.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 9]\n\nThe general idea of an action, as well as of an attitude, may be given\nwith a pencil in very few lines. It is easy to conceive that the\nattitude of a person upon the cross, may be fully signified by the two\nstraight lines of the cross; so the extended manner of St. Andrew's\ncrucifixion is wholly understood by the X-like cross.\n\nThus, as two or three lines at first are sufficient to shew the\nintention of an attitude, I will take this opportunity of presenting\nmy reader (who may have been at the trouble of following me thus far)\nwith the sketch of a country-dance, in the manner I began to set out\nthe design; in order to shew how few lines are necessary to express the\nfirst thoughts, as to different attitudes; see fig. [71 T p. II], which\ndescribe in some measure, the several figures and actions, mostly of\nthe ridiculous kind, that are represented in the chief part of plate II.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 71]\n\nThe most amiable person may deform his general appearance by throwing\nhis body and limbs into plain lines, but such lines appear still in\na more disagreeable light in people of a particular make, I have\ntherefore chose such figures as I thought would agree best with my\nfirst score of lines, fig. 71.\n\n[Illustration: The dancers]\n\nThe two parts of curves next to 71, served for the figures of the old\nwoman and her partner at the farther end of the room. The curve and\ntwo straight lines at right angles, gave the hint for the fat man's\nsprawling posture. I next resolved to keep a figure within the bounds\nof a circle, which produced the upper part of the fat woman, between\nthe fat man and the aukward one in the bag wig, for whom I had made\na sort of an X. The prim lady, his partner, in the riding-habit, by\npecking back her elbows, as they call it, from the waste upwards, made\na tolerable D, with a straight line under it, to signify the scanty\nstiffness of her peticoat; and a Z stood for the angular position the\nbody makes with the legs and thighs of the affected fellow in the\ntye-wig; the upper part of his plump partner was confin'd to an O, and\nthis chang'd into a P, served as a hint for the straight lines behind.\nThe uniform diamond of a card, was filled up by the flying dress, &c.\nof the little capering figure in the spencer-wig; whilst a double L\nmark'd the parallel position of his poking partner's hands and arms:\nand lastly, the two waving lines were drawn for the more genteel turns\nof the two figures at the hither end.\n\nThe best representation in a picture, of even the most elegant dancing,\nas every figure is rather a suspended action in it than an attitude,\nmust be always somewhat unnatural and ridiculous; for were it possible\nin a real dance to fix every person at one instant of time, as in a\npicture, not one in twenty would appear to be graceful, tho' each were\never so much so in their movements; nor could the figure of the dance\nitself be at all understood.\n\n[Illustration: The statues and pictures]\n\nThe dancing-room is also ornamented purposely with such statues and\npictures as may serve to a farther illustration. Henry viii. fig. [72\np. II], makes a perfect X with his legs and arms; and the position of\nCharles the first, fig. [51 p. II], is composed of less-varied lines\nthan the statue of Edward the sixth, fig. [73 p. II]; and the medal\nover his head is in the like kind of lines; but that over Q. Elizabeth,\nas well as her figure, is in the contrary; so are also the two other\nwooden figures at the end. Likewise the comical posture of astonishment\n(expressed by following the direction of one plain curve, as the dotted\nline in a french print of Sancho, where Don Quixote demolishes the\npuppet shew, fig. [75 R p. II])is a good contrast to the effect of the\nserpentine lines in the fine turn of the Samaritan woman, fig. [74 L p.\nII], taken from one of the best pictures Annibal Carrache ever painted.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 75 and 74]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII.\n\n_Of ACTION_.\n\n\nTo the amazing variety of forms made still infinitely more various in\nappearance by light, shade and colour, nature hath added another way\nof increasing that variety, still more to enhance the value of all her\ncompositions. This is accomplished by means of action; the fullest\ndisplay of which is put into the power of the human species, and which\nis equally subject to the same principles with regard to the effects of\nbeauty, or the reverse, as govern all the former compositions; as is\npartly seen in Chapter XI on proportion. My business here shall be, in\nas concise a manner as possible, to particularise the application of\nthese principles to the movement of the body, and therewith finish this\n_system_ of variety in forms and actions.\n\nThere is no one but would wish to have it in his power to be genteel\nand graceful in the carriage of his person, could it be attained with\nlittle trouble and expence of time. The usual methods relied on for\nthis purpose among well-bred people, takes up a considerable part of\ntheir time: nay even those of the first rank have no other resource in\nthese matters, than to dancing-masters, and fencing-masters: dancing\nand fencing are undoubtedly proper, and very necessary accomplishments;\nyet are they frequently very imperfect in bringing about the business\nof graceful deportment. For altho' the muscles of the body may\nattain a pliancy by these exercises, and the limbs, by the elegant\nmovement in dancing, acquire a facility in moving gracefully, yet for\nwant of knowing the meaning of every grace, and whereon it depends,\naffectations and misapplications often follow.\n\nAction is a sort of language which perhaps one time or other, may\ncome to be taught by a kind of grammar-rules; but, at present, is only\ngot by rote and imitation: and contrary to most other copyings or\nimitations, people of rank and fortune generally excel their originals,\nthe dancing-masters, in easy behaviour and unaffected grace; as a sense\nof superiority makes them act without constraint; especially when their\npersons are well turn'd. If so, what can be more conducive to that\nfreedom and necessary courage which make acquired grace seem easy and\nnatural, than the being able to demonstrate _when_ we are actually just\nand proper in the least movement we perform; whereas, for want of such\ncertainty in the mind, if one of the most finish'd gentlemen at court\nwas to appear as an actor on the public stage, he would find himself\nat a loss how to move properly, and be stiff, narrow, and aukward, in\nrepresenting even his own character: the uncertainty of being right\nwould naturally give him some of that restraint which the uneducated\ncommon people generally have when they appear before their betters.\n\nIt is known that bodies in motion always describe some line or other\nin the air, as the whirling round of a fire-brand apparently makes a\ncircle, the water-fall part of a curve, the arrow and bullet, by the\nswiftness of their motions, nearly a straight line; waving lines are\nformed by the pleasing movement of a ship on the waves. Now in order\nto obtain a just idea of action at the same time to be judiciously\nsatisfied of being in the right in what we do, let us begin with\nimagining a line formed in the air by any supposed point at the end\nof a limb or part that is moved, or made by the whole part, or limb;\nor by the whole body together. And that thus much of movements may be\nconceived at once is evident, on the least recollection, for whoever\nhas seen a fine arabian war-horse, unback'd and at liberty, and in a\nwanton trot, cannot but remember what a large waving line his rising,\nand at the same time pressing forward, cuts through the air; the equal\ncontinuation of which, is varied by his curveting from side to side;\nwhilst his long mane and tail play about in serpentine movements.\n\nAfter thus having form'd the idea of all movements being as lines, it\nwill not be difficult to conceive, that grace in action depends upon\nthe same principles as have been shewn to produce it in forms.\n\nThe next thing that offers itself to our consideration is the force of\n_habit_ and custom in action; for a great deal depends thereon.\n\nThe peculiar movements of each person, as the gate in walking, are\nparticularised in such lines as each part describes by the habits they\nhave contracted. The nature and power of habit may be fully conceived\nby the following familiar instance, as the motions of one part of the\nbody may serve to explain those of the whole.\n\nObserve that whatever habit the fingers get in the use of the pen,\nyou see exactly delineated to the eye by the shapes of the letters.\nWere the movements of every writer's fingers to be precisely the same,\none hand-writing would not be known from another, but as the fingers\nnaturally fall into, or acquire different habits of moving, every\nhand-writing is visibly different. Which movements must tally with\nthe letters, tho' they are too quick and too small to be as perfectly\ntraced by the eye; but this shews what nice differences are caused, and\nconstantly retained by habitual movements.\n\nIt may be remark'd, that all useful habitual motions, such as are\nreadiest to serve the necessary purposes of life, are those made up of\nplain lines, i. e. straight and circular lines, which most animals have\nin common with mankind, tho' not in so extensive a degree: the monkey\nfrom his make hath it sufficiently in his power to be graceful, but as\nreason is required for this purpose, it would be impossible to bring\nhim to move genteelly.\n\nThough I have said that the ordinary actions of the body are performed\nin plain lines, I mean only comparatively so with those of studied\nmovements in the serpentine line, for as all our muscles are ever ready\nto act, when one part is moved, (as an hand, or arm, by its proper\nmovers, for raising up or drawing down) the adjacent muscles act in\nsome degree in correspondence with them: therefore our most common\nmovements are but seldom performed in such absolutely mean lines, as\nthose of jointed dolls and puppets. A man must have a good deal of\npractice to be able to mimic such very straight or round motions, which\nbeing incompatible with the human form, are therefore ridiculous.\n\nLet it be observed, that graceful movements in serpentine lines,\nare used but occasionally, and rather at times of leisure, than\nconstantly applied to every action we make. The whole business of life\nmay be carried on without them, they being properly speaking, only\nthe ornamental part of gesture; and therefore not being naturally\nfamiliarised by necessity, must be acquired by precept or imitation,\nand reduced to habit by frequent repetitions. _Precept_ is the means I\nshould recommend as the most expeditious and effectual way. But before\nwe proceed to the method I have to propose, for the more ready and sure\nway of accustoming the limbs to a facility in the ornamental way of\nmoving; I should observe, that quick time gives it spirit and vivacity,\nas slow time, gravity, and solemnity, and further, that the latter of\nthese allows the eye an opportunity of seeing the line of grace to\nadvantage, as in the address of heroes on the stage, or in any solemn\nact of ceremony; and that although time in movement is reduced to\ncertain rules for dancing, it is left more at large and at discretion\nfor deportment.\n\nWe come now to offer an odd, but perhaps efficacious method of\nacquiring a habit of moving in the lines of grace and beauty.\n\n[Illustration: Figs. 119 and 120]\n\n1. Let any one chalk the line fig. [119 L p. II], on a flat surface,\nbeginning at either end, and he will move his hand and arm in a\nbeautiful direction, but if he chalks the same sort of line on an\nogee-moulding of a foot or two in breadth, as the dotted line on figure\n[120 L p. II], his hand must move in that more beautiful direction,\nwhich is distinguished by the name of grace; and according to the\nquantity given to those lines, greatness will be added to grace, and\nthe movement will be more or less noble.\n\nGentle movements of this sort thus understood, may be made at any time\nand any where, which by frequent repetitions will become so familiar to\nthe parts so exercised, that on proper occasion they make them as it\nwere of their own accord.\n\nThe pleasing effect of this manner of moving the hand, is seen when a\nsnuff-box, or fan is presented gracefully or genteely to a lady, both\nin the hand moving forward and in its return, but care must be taken\nthat the line of movement be but gentle, as No. 3, fig. 49, plate I,\nand not too S-like and twirling, as No. 7 in the same figure: which\nexcess would be affected and ridiculous.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 49]\n\nDaily practising these movements with the hands and arms, as also with\nsuch other parts of the body as are capable of them, will in a short\ntime render the whole person graceful and easy at pleasure.\n\n2. As to the motions of the _head_; the awe most children are in\nbefore strangers, till they come to a certain age, is the cause of\ntheir dropping and drawing their chins down into their breasts, and\nlooking under their foreheads, as if conscious of their weakness,\nor of something wrong about them. To prevent this aukward shyness,\nparents and tutors are continually teasing them to hold up their heads,\nwhich if they get them to do it is with difficulty, and of course\nin so constrain'd a manner that it gives the children pain, so that\nthey naturally take all opportunities of easing themselves by holding\ndown their heads; which posture would be full as uneasy to them were\nit not a relief from restraint: and there is another misfortune in\nholding down the head, that it is apt to make them bend too much in\nthe back; when this happens to be the case, they then have recourse\nto steel-collars, and other iron-machines; all which shacklings are\nrepugnant to nature, and may make the body grow crooked. This daily\nfatigue both to the children and the parents may be avoided, and an\nugly habit prevented, by only (at a proper age) fastening a ribbon to a\nquantity of platted hair, or to the cap, so as it may be kept fast in\nits place, and the other end to the back of the coat, as fig. [121 L\np. II], of such a length as may prevent them drawing their chins into\ntheir necks; which ribbon will always leave the head at liberty to move\nin any direction but this aukward one they are so apt to fall into.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 121]\n\nBut till children arrive at a reasoning age it will be difficult by any\nmeans to teach them more grace than what is natural to every well made\nchild at liberty.\n\nThe grace of the upper parts of the body is most engaging, and\nsensible well made people in any station naturally have it in a great\ndegree, therefore rules unless they are simple and easily retain'd and\npractis'd, are of little use; nay, rather are of disservice.\n\nHolding the head erect is but occasionally right, a proper recline of\nit may be as graceful, but true elegance is mostly seen in the moving\nit from one position to another.\n\nAnd this may be attain'd by a sensibility within yourself, tho' you\nhave not a sight of what you do by looking in the glass, when with your\nhead assisted by a sway of the body in order to give it more scope, you\nendeavour to make that very serpentine line in the air, which the hands\nhave been before taught to do by the help of the ogee-moulding: and I\nwill venture to say, a few careful repetitions at first setting out\nwill make this movement as easy to the head as to the hands and arms.\n\nThe most graceful bow is got by the head's moving in this direction,\nas it goes downward and rises up again. Some aukward imitators of this\nelegant way of bowing, for want of knowing what they were about, have\nseem'd to bow with wry necks. The low solemn bow to majesty should\nhave but a very little twist, if any, as more becoming gravity and\nsubmission. The clownish nod in a sudden straight line is quite the\nreverse of these spoken of.\n\nThe most elegant and respectful curtesy hath a gentle, or small degree\nof the above graceful bowing of the head as the person sinks, and\nrises, and retreats. If it should be said, that a fine curtesy consists\nin no more than in being erect in person at the time of sinking and\nrising; Madam Catherine in clock-work, or the dancing bears led about\nthe streets for a shew, must be allow'd to make as good a curtesy as\nanybody.\n\nN. B. It is necessary in bowing and curtesying to shun an exact\nsameness at all times; for however graceful it may be on some\noccasions, at other times it may seem formal and improper. Shakespear\nseems to have meant the above spoken of ornamental manner of bowing, in\nEnobarbus's description of Cleopatra's waiting-women.----\n\n    ----And made their bends adornings.    Act 2.\n\n3. Of _Dancing_. The minuet is allowed by the dancing-masters\nthemselves to be the perfection of all dancing. I once heard an\neminent dancing-master say, that the minuet had been the study of\nhis whole life, and that he had been indefatigable in the pursuit of\nits beauties, yet at last he could only say with Socrates, _he knew\nnothing_: adding, that I was happy in my profession as a painter, in\nthat some bounds might be set to the study of it. No doubt, as the\nminuet contains in it a composed variety of as many movements in the\nserpentine lines as can well be put together in distinct quantities, it\nis a fine composition of movements.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 122]\n\nThe ordinary undulating motion of the body in common walking (as may\nbe plainly seen by the waving line, which the shadow a man's head\nmakes against a wall as he is walking between it and the afternoon\nsun) is augmented in dancing into a larger quantity of _waving_ by\nmeans of the minuet-step, which is so contrived as to raise the body\nby gentle degrees somewhat higher than ordinary, and sink it again in\nthe same manner lower in the going on of the dance. The figure of the\nminuet-path on the floor is also composed of serpentine lines, as fig.\n[122 T p. II], varying a little with the fashion: when the parties by\nmeans of this step rise and fall most smoothly in time, and free from\nsudden starting and dropping, they come nearest to Shakespear's idea of\nthe beauty of dancing, in the following lines,\n\n    ----What you do,\n    Still betters what is done,----\n    ----When you do dance, I wish you\n    A wave o' th' sea, that you might ever do\n    Nothing but that; move still, still so,\n    And own no other function.        WINTER'S TALE.\n\nThe other beauties belonging to this dance, are the turns of the head,\nand twist of the body in passing each other, as also gentle bowing and\npresenting hands in the manner before described, all which together,\ndisplays the greatest variety of movements in serpentine lines\nimaginable, keeping equal pace with musical time.\n\nThere are other dances that entertain merely because they are composed\nof variety of movements and performed in proper time, but the less\nthey consist of serpentine or waving lines, the lower they are in the\nestimation of dancing-masters: for, as has been shewn, when the form of\nthe body is divested of its serpentine lines it becomes ridiculous as a\nhuman figure, so likewise when all movements in such lines are excluded\nin a dance, it becomes low, grotesque and comical; but however, being\nas was said composed of variety, made consistent with some character,\nand executed with agility, it nevertheless is very entertaining. Such\nare Italian peasant-dances, &c. But such uncouth contortions of the\nbody as are allowable in a man would disgust in a woman; as the extreme\ngraceful, so very alluring in this sex, is nauseous in the other; even\nthe minuet-grace in a man would hardly be approved, but as the main\ndrift of it represents repeated addresses to the lady.\n\nThere is a much greater consistency in the dances of the Italian\ntheatre than of the French, notwithstanding dancing seems to be the\ngenius of that nation; the following distinctly marked characters were\noriginally from Italy; and if we consider them lineally as to their\nparticular movements, we shall see wherein their humour consists.\n\nThe attitudes of the harlequin are ingeniously composed of certain\nlittle, quick movements of the head, hands, and feet, some of which\nshoot out as it were from the body in straight lines, or are twirled\nabout in little circles.\n\nScaramouch is gravely absurd as the character is intended, in\nover-stretch'd tedious movements of unnatural lengths of lines: these\ntwo characters seem to have been contrived by conceiving a direct\nopposition of movements.\n\nPierrott's movements and attitudes, are chiefly in perpendiculars and\nparallels, so is his figure and dress.\n\nPunchinello is droll by being the reverse of all elegance, both as to\nmovement, and figure, the beauty of variety is totally, and comically\nexcluded from this character in every respect; his limbs are raised and\nlet fall almost altogether at one time, in parallel directions, as if\nhis seeming fewer joints than ordinary, were no better than the hinges\nof a door.\n\nDances that represent provincial characters, as these above do,\nor very low people, such as gardeners, sailors, &c. in merriment,\nare generally most entertaining on the stage: the Italians have\nlately added great pleasantry and humour to several french dances,\nparticularly the wooden-shoe dance, in which there is a continual\nshifting from one attitude in plain lines to another; both the man\nand the woman often comically fix themselves in uniform positions,\nand frequently start in equal time, into angular forms, one of which\nremarkably represents two W's in a line, as over figure 122, plate II,\nthese sort of dances a little raised, especially on the woman's side,\nin expressing elegant wantonness (which is the true spirit of dancing)\nhave of late years been most delightfully done, and seem at present to\nhave got the better of pompous unmeaning grand ballets; serious dancing\nbeing even a contradiction in terms.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. over Fig. 122]\n\n4thly, Of _Country Dancing_. The lines which a number of people\ntogether form in country or figure dancing, make a delightful play\nupon the eye, especially when the whole figure is to be seen at one\nview, as at the playhouse from the gallery; the beauty of this kind of\nmystic dancing, as the poets term it, depends upon moving in a composed\nvariety of lines, chiefly serpentine, govern'd by the principles of\nintricacy, &c. The dances of barbarians are always represented without\nthese movements, being only composed of wild skiping, jumping, and\nturning round, or running backward and forward, with convulsive shrugs,\nand distorted gestures.\n\nOne of the most pleasing movements in country dancing, and which\nanswers to all the principles of varying at once, is what they call the\nhay; the figure of it altogether, is a cypher of S's, or a number of\nserpentine lines interlacing, or intervolving each other, which suppose\ntraced on the floor, the lines would appear as fig. [123 T p. II].\nMilton in his Paradise lost, describing the angels dancing about the\nsacred hill, pictures the whole idea in words;\n\n    Mystical dance!----\n    ----Mazes intricate,\n    Eccentric, intervolv'd, yet regular\n    Then most, when most irregular they seem.\n\n[Illustration: Fig. 123]\n\nI shall venture, lastly, to say a word or two of stage-action. From\nwhat has been said of habitually moving in waving lines, it may\npossibly be found that if stage-action, particularly the graceful,\nwere to be studied lineally, it might be more speedily and accurately\nacquired by the help of the foregoing principles than the methods\nhitherto taken. It is known that common deportment, such as may\npass for elegant and proper off the stage, would no more be thought\nsufficient upon it than the dialogue of common polite conversation,\nwould be accurate or spirited enough for the language of a play. So\nthat trusting to chance only will not do. The actions of every scene\nought to be as much as possible a compleat composition of well varied\nmovements, considered as such abstractedly, and apart from what may\nbe merely relative to the sense of the words. Action consider'd with\nregard to assisting the authors meaning, by enforcing the sentiments\nor raising the passions, must be left entirely to the judgment of the\nperformer, we only pretend to shew how the limbs may be made to have an\nequal readiness to move in all such directions as may be acquired.\n\nWhat I would have understood by action, abstractedly and apart from\nits giving force to the meaning of the words, may be better conceived\nby supposing a foreigner, who is a thorough master of all the effects\nof action, at one of our theatres, but quite ignorant of the language\nof the play; it is evident his sentiments under such limitations,\nwould chiefly arise from what he might distinguish by the lines of the\nmovements belonging to each character; the actions of an old man, if\nproper, or not, would be visible to him at once, and he would judge of\nlow and odd characters, by the inelegant lines which we have already\nshewn to belong to the characters of punch, harlequin, pierrott, or\nthe clown; so he would also form his judgment of the graceful acting\nof a fine gentleman, or hero, by the elegance of their movements in\nsuch lines of grace and beauty as have been sufficiently described. See\nchapters V, VI, VII, VIII, on the composition of forms. Where note,\nthat as the whole of beauty depends upon _continually varying_ the same\nmust be observed with regard to genteel and elegant acting: and as\nplain space makes a considerable part of beauty in form, so cessation\nof movement in acting is as absolutely necessary; and in my opinion\nmuch wanted on most stages, to relieve the eye from what Shakespear\ncalls, _continually sawing the air_.\n\nThe actress hath sufficient grace with fewer actions, and those in\nless extended lines than the actor; for as the lines that compose the\nVenus are simpler and more gently flowing, than those that compose the\nApollo, so must her movements be in like proportion.\n\nAnd here it may not be improper to take notice of a mischief that\nattends copied actions on the stage; they are often confin'd to certain\nsets and numbers, which being repeated, and growing stale to the\naudience, become at last subject to mimickry and ridicule, which would\nhardly be the case, if an actor were possest of such general principles\nas include a knowledge of the effects of all the movements that the\nbody is capable of.\n\nThe comedian, whose business it is to imitate the actions belonging\nto particular characters in nature, may also find his account in the\nknowledge of lines; for whatever he copies from the life, by these\nprinciples may be strengthened, altered, and adjusted as his judgment\nshall direct, and the part the author has given him shall require.\n\n\nFINIS.\n\n\n\n\n_Prints Publish'd by_ W. HOGARTH, _and are to be had at his House in_\nLeicester Fields.\n\n                                             l. s. d.\n\nMarriage a-la-mode, in six prints            1  11 6\n\nHarlot's Progress, in six prints             1  1  0\n\nRake's Progress, in eight prints             2  2  0\n\nFour Times of the Day, in four prints        1  0  0\n\nStrolling Actresses dressing in a Barn.      0  5  0\n\nMidnight Conversation                        0  5  0\n\nSouthwark Fair                               0  5  0\n\nBishop of Winchester                         0  3  0\n\nCalais, or the Roast Beef of Old England     0  5  0\n\nBefore and After, two prints                 0  5  0\n\nDistress'd Poet                              0  3  0\n\nEnraged Musician                             0  3  0\n\nVarious Characters of Heads, in five groups  0  2  6\n\nBeer Street and Gin Lane, two prints         0  3  0\n\nFour Stages of Cruelty, four prints          0  6  0\n\nMoses brought to Pharoah's Daughter          0  7  6\n\nPaul before Felix                            0  7  6\n\nPaul before Felix in the manner of Rembrant  0  0  0\n\nThe Effects of Idleness and Industry,\nexemplified in the Conduct of two\nFellow-Prentices, in twelve prints           0  12 0\n\nLord Lovat                                   0  1  0\n\nCountry-Inn Yard                             0  1  0\n\nSleeping Congregation                        0  1  0\n\nMarch to Finchley                            0  10 6\n\nMr. Garrick in the Character of King\nRichard the third                            0  7  6\n\nColumbus breaking the Egg                    0  1  0\n\nFrontispiece                                 0  3  0\n\n\nN. B. If any one purchases the whole together, they will have them\ndeliver'd bound, at the Price of ten Guineas, and a sufficient Margin\nwill be left for Framing.\n\n\n\n\nFIGURES _referr'd to in the_ BOOK.\n\nPLATE I.\n\nFigure               Page\n1,                   3\n2,                   10, 77\n3-4,                 15\nFig. over Fig. 4,    xix\n6,                   vi, viii, 20, 81, 82, 83, 86, 88, 128\n7,                   viii, 20\n9,                   22, 135\n10-11,               23\n12,                  66, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 128, 153\n13,                  66, 152\n14,                  25, 26\n15,                  27\n16,                  31\n17-18,               31, 87\n19-20,               31\n21,                  36\n22,                  33\nFig. bet'n 22 & 105  viii\n23,                  37\n24-25,               38\n26,                  38, 39, 100\n29,                  40\n30-32,               41\n33-37,               42\n38,                  43\n39-42                44\n43,                  xix, 44\n44-46                44\n47,                  xix, 19\nFig. bet'n 47 & 88,  17, 97\n48,                  46\n49,                  49, 128, 143\nFig. under 49,       4\n50,                  49\n53,                  49, 50\n54,                  v, 20, 64\n55,                  20, 76\n65,                  56, 60\n66-67,               57\nFig. near 67,        68\n68,                  58, 76\n87-88,               111\n97,                  104, 123, 124\n98,                  123, 124\n99-105,              124\n106,                 125\n107,                 128\n115,                 133\n\n\nPLATE II.\n\nFigure               Page\n51,                  137\n52,                  x\n56,                  51\n57,                  51, 103\n58,                  51, 55, 103\n59,                  53\n60-63,               55\n64,                  56\n69-70,               78\n71,                  136\n72,                  20, 137\n73,                  137\n74,                  138\n75,                  137\n76,                  62, 64\n77,                  62, 63, 64\n78,                  63, 64\n79-80,               63\n81,                  64\n82-83,               65\n84-85,               96\n86,                  108, 109, 111\n89,                  111\n90,                  109\n91,                  112\n92,                  111\n93,                  111\n94,                  98, 116, 117, 118\n95,                  115\n96,                  117\n108-109,             130\n110,                 133\n113,                 132\n114,                 133\n116,                 132\n117-118,             134\n119-120,             143\n121,                 144\n122,                 147\n123,                 151","title":"The Analysis of Beauty: Written with a view of fixing the fluctuating ideas of taste","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":45811}