"A dull transcriber who, in copying Milton's _Paradise Lost_, hath not omitted a line, has almost as much right to be compared to Milton as an exact copier of a fine picture by Rubens hath to be compared to Rubens. In both cases the hand is employed about minute parts, but the mind scarcely ever embraces the whole. Besides this, there is an essential difference between the man who transcribes the deed and he who copies the figure; for though what is written may be line for line the same with the original, it is not probable that this will often be the case with the copied figure: frequently far from it. Yet the performer will be much more likely to retain a recollection of his own imperfect work than of the original from which he took it. "More reasons, not necessary to enumerate, struck me as strong objections to this practice, and led me to wish that I could find the shorter path; fix forms and characters in my mind, and, instead of copying the lines, try to read the language, and, if possible, find the grammar of the art, by bringing into one focus the various observations I had made, and then trying by my power on the canvas how far my plan enabled me to combine and apply them to practice. "For this purpose I considered what various ways, and to what different purposes, the memory might be applied, and fell upon one which I found most suitable to my situation and idle disposition. "Laying it down first as an axiom, that he who could by any means acquire and retain in his memory perfect ideas of the subjects he meant to draw, would have as clear a knowledge of the figure as a man who can write freely hath of the twenty-four letters of the alphabet and their infinite combinations (each of these being composed of lines), and would consequently be an accurate designer.