fore, in my infancy, all objects that occur'd, without being then able to guess what this disposition meant, and without an attention being paid to it sufficient to render it useful. I made no progress, my taste declined, and my choicest days pass'd away; but the beauties of nature, and the excellent imitations of that grand model, made incessantly the most vivid impressions on my mind. I had abandon'd the pencil; a secret impulse made me take up the pen, and, by the aid of that which appear'd to me to have less difficulty in the practice, I imitated artless scenes and picturesque beauties; in a word, the charms of NATURE that struck me most.

A select collection, however, that belonged to my father-in-law, awaken'd in me the passion for drawing; and, toward my thirtieth year, I attempted to deserve, in this sort of imitation, the indulgence, and if it might be, the approbation of artists and connoisseurs.

My natural inclination led me to landscapes; I sought with ardour, the means of satisfying my desire, and embarrassed in the route I should take, I said to myself, there is but one model, there is but one master; and I determined to draw after NATURE. But I soon found, that this great and sublime master does not explain himself clearly but to those that have learnt to comprehend him. My precision in following him everywhere led me astray. I lost

M. HEIDEGGUER, counsellor of state at ZURIC.

I I

myself in those minute details that destroy the effect of the whole. I had not catch'd that manner which, without being servile or slight, expresses the true character of objects. My trees were dryly design'd, and not detach'd in masses. The whole was disturbed by a labour without taste. In a word, my eye, confined too closely to one point, was not accustomed to embrace a large extent. I was ignorant of that address which adds to or diminishes in the parts that art cannot equal. My first progress, therefore, was to discern what I was not able to perform; the second was, to have recourse to the great masters, and to the principles they have established by their precepts and their works; and is not this the natural progress in all arts? The first who practised them fell into that dryness with which they are reproach'd, by a too great accuracy in imitating nature, whose beauties they consider'd too much in detail. In fact, these details are executed by our first painters in a mannor sufficiently finish'd, as well in the subordinate objects as in the most striking parts. They that follow'd them remark'd these defects, and discovered that a characteristic imitation was more interesting than an imitation of parts. The ideas of masses, of effects and disposition, offer'd themselves; these ideas produced principles, and the great painters have aim'd at a general effect, as the poets have at a principal object.

I employed myself, therefore, in studying the great masters, in distinguishing them from each

other; and, above all, in attaching myself to the best works only: for I perceived, that in the study of model, the most prejudicial quality is mediocrity. The bad strike and disgust; but those that are not good, nor absolutely bad, deceive us by offering a flattering and dangerous facility. It is for this reason that engraving, which may contribute to the progress of the arts, when it is employ'd on subjects that are judiciously chosen; and, in copying them justly, may become prejudicial by the indifferent works it multiplies without number. How many productions of that art have required the labour of a year, and do not deserve a moment's attention! But let RAPHAEL be copy'd by skilful engravers, let a young artist profit by his labours, and works, without dignity and expression, will soon become intolerable to him; he will perceive to what an elevation the excellence of the art can raise him. The way to know and to avoid mediocrity, is by the study and imitation of beautiful productions; or, in want of them, of the most finished translations that have been made from them-for so we may call beautiful prints. Let a young draughtsman study the heads of RAPHAEL, and he will not see without disgust, the sordid figures of indifferent painters. But if you first feed him with those insipid substances, he will soon lose the taste necessary to relish the excellence of ANTINOUS and APOLLO. In the one case, he will advance firmly in his career; in the other, he will continually totter, and even not be sensible of his own weakness.

It was from these reflections, that, following the steps of the masters, I dared to form a method of my own. My first precept was to pass from one principal part to another, without staying to attempt at once the numberless details that I perceiv'd in each of them. By this method I accustomed myself to design, or rather dispose the trees in masses, chusing WATERLOO for my model; and the more I studied this artist, the more I found in his landscapes the true character of nature; and the more that discovery struck me, the more pleasure I found in imitating him: so that it was to him I owed at last the felicity of expressing my own ideas, but it was by borrowing his style. Then, to avoid what they call a manner, I ventured to insert more variety in my studies, and to associate with my first master those artists whose tastes differ from his; but who, at the same time, have, like him, nature and truth for their object.

SWANEFELD and BERCHEM, by turns, presided over my labours. Like the bee, I search'd honey from many flowers. I consulted, I imitated-and, returning to nature, wherever I found a tree, a trunk, or foliage, that attracted my regard, that fix'd my attention, I made a sketch of it, more or less finish'd. By this method, I join'd to facility the idea of character, and I form'd a manner that became more personal to me. It is true, an original inclination frequently brought me back to my first guide; I return'd to WATERLOO, when the disposition of the trees was to be regulated; but

BERCHEM and SALVATOR ROSA obtain'd the

pre

ference in disposing the grounds, and characterising the rocks. MEYER, ERMELS, and HAKERT assisted me in distinguishing the truth of nature, and LORRAIN instructed me in a happy choice of vistos, and a fine harmony of the grounds. I learnt, by studying him, to imitate the verdure of the fields, the soft distances, and admirable gradations, by the secret artifice of their shades. To conclude-I had recourse to wouVERMANS for those light and sweet transient scenes that, illuminated with a moderate light, and cover'd with a tender verdure, have no defect, but the appearing sometimes too tufted.

Thus passing from various imitations to continual reflections, and then returning to nature, I found, at last, that my efforts became less laborious. The principal masses and forms laid themselves open to my sight. Effects, that I had not perceiv'd, struck me. I was at last able to express, by a single stroke, what art cou'd not detail without prejudice. My manner became expressive. How often, before this first progress, have I search'd, without finding them, objects favourable to imitation; and how often did they present themselves to my sight! Not, however, that every view, or every tree, contains all that picturesque beauty I sought after; but my experienced eye no longer beheld objects without distinguishing forms that pleased me, or characters that fix'd my attention. I saw no shade that had not some branch well disposed, some mass of foliage agreeably group'd, some part