undeceive such judges, however conscious they may be of the very

natural means by which the extraordinary powers were acquired; our

art being intrinsically imitative, rejects this idea of inspiration

more, perhaps, than any other.

It is to avoid this plain confession of truth, as it should seem,

that this imitation of masters--indeed, almost all imitation which

implies a more regular and progressive method of attaining the ends

of painting--has ever been particularly inveighed against with

great keenness, both by ancient and modern writers.

To derive all from native power, to owe nothing to another, is the

praise which men, who do not much think what they are saying,

bestow sometimes upon others, and sometimes on themselves; and

their imaginary dignity is naturally heightened by a supercilious

censure of the low, the barren, the grovelling, the servile

imitator. It would be no wonder if a student, frightened by these

terrors and disgraceful epithets, with which the poor imitators are

so often loaded, should let fall his pencil in mere despair,

conscious how much he has been indebted to the labours of others,

how little, how very little of his art was born with him; and,

considering it as hopeless, to set about acquiring by the imitation

of any human master what he is taught to suppose is matter of

inspiration from heaven.

Some allowance must be made for what is said in the gaiety or

ambition of rhetoric. We cannot suppose that anyone can really

mean to exclude all imitation of others. A position so wild would

scarce deserve a serious answer, for it is apparent, if we were

forbid to make use of the advantages which our predecessors afford

us, the art would be always to begin, and consequently remain

always in its infant state; and it is a common observation that no

art was ever invented and carried to perfection at the same time.