t ever presents to his sight; but contemplated only that image which
he had conceived in his mind from Homer's description." And thus Cicero,
speaking of the same Phidias: "Neither did this artist," says he, "when
he carved the image of Jupiter or Minerva, set before him any one human
figure as a pattern, which he was to copy; but having a more perfect idea
of beauty fixed in his mind, this he steadily contemplated, and to the
imitation of this all his skill and labour were directed."

The moderns are not less convinced than the ancients of this superior
power existing in the art; nor less conscious of its effects. Every
language has adopted terms expressive of this excellence. The _Gusto
grande_ of the Italians; the _Beau ideal_ of the French and the _great
style_, _genius_, and _taste_ among the English, are but different
appellations of the same thing. It is this intellectual dignity, they
say, that ennobles the painter's art; that lays the line between him and
the mere mechanic; and produces those great effects in an instant, which
eloquence and poetry, by slow and repeated efforts, are scarcely able to
attain.

Such is the warmth with which both the ancients and moderns speak of this
divine principle of the art; but, as I have formerly observed,
enthusiastic admiration seldom promotes knowledge. Though a student by
such praise may have his attention roused, and a desire excited, of
running in this great career, yet it is possible that what has been said
to excite, may only serve to deter him. He examines his own mind, and
perceives there nothing of that divine inspiration with which he is told
so many others have been favoured. He never travelled to heaven to
gather new ideas; and he finds himself possessed of no other
qualifications than what mere common observation and a plain
understanding can confer. Thus he becomes gloomy amidst the splendour of
figurative declamation, and thinks it hopeless to pursue an object which
he supposes out of the reach of human industry.

But on this, as upon many other occasions, we ought to distinguish how
much is to be given to enthusiasm, and how much to reason. We ought to
allow for, and we ought to commend, that strength of vivid expression
which is necessary to convey, in its full force, the highest sense of the
most complete effect of art; taking care at the same time not to lose in
terms of vague admiration that solidity and truth of principle upon which
alone we