“In the same manner that bare practice, destitute of the lights of art,” &c. We find in Quinctilian, that Pythagoras said, “The theory is nothing without the practice.” “And what means,” says the younger Pliny, “have we to retain what has been taught us, if we put it not in practice?” We would not allow that man to be an orator, who had the best thoughts imaginable, and who knew all the rules of rhetoric, if he had not acquired, by exercise, the art of using them, and of composing an excellent discourse. Painting is a long pilgrimage, what avails it to make all the necessary preparatives for our voyage, or to inform ourselves of all the difficulties in the road? If we do not actually begin the journey, and travel at a round rate, we shall never arrive at the end of it. And as it would be ridiculous to grow old in the study of every necessary thing in an art, which comprehends so many several parts; so, on the other hand, to begin the practice without knowing the rules, or at least with a light tincture of them, is to expose ourselves to the scorn of those who can judge of painting, and to make it apparent to the world that we have no care of our reputation. Many are of opinion, that we need only work, and mind the practical part, to become skilful and able painters; and that the theory only encumbers the mind, and ties the hand. Such men do just like the squirrel, who is perpetually turning the wheel in her cage; she runs apace, and wearies herself with her continual motion, and yet gets no ground. “It is not enough for doing well to walk apace,” says Quinctilian, “but it is enough for walking apace to do well.” It is a bad excuse to say, I was but a little while about it. That graceful easiness, that celestial fire which animates the work, proceeds not so much from having often done the like, as from having well understood what we have done. See what I shall farther say, on the 60th rule, which concerns easiness. Others there are, who believe precepts and speculation to be of absolute necessity; but as they were ill instructed, and what they knew, rather entangled, than cleared their understanding, so they oftentimes turn short; and if they perform a work, it is not without anxiety and pain. And in truth, they are so much the more worthy of compassion, because their intentions are right; and if they advance not in knowledge as far as others, and are sometimes cast behind, yet they are grounded upon some sort of reason; for it is belonging to good sense, not to go over fast, when we apprehend ourselves to be out of the way, or even where we doubt which way we ought to take. Others, on the contrary, being well instructed in good maxims, and in the rules of art, after having done fine things, yet spoil them all, by endeavouring to make them better, which is a kind of overdoing; and they are so intoxicated with their work, and with an earnest desire of being above all others, that they suffer themselves to be deceived