Michael Angelo Buonarroti Part 20

"Senhor Michael," I answered, "must fulfil the wishes of the Marchioness when she heard me in the last discussion, and practically promised to show me whether painting would be entirely useless in time of war, for I remember that her Excellency named last Sunday, in which we did not meet, for that purpose."

Here M. Angelo laughed, and added:

"So you, M. Francisco, expect the Marchioness to have as much power when absent as when present. Well, as you have so much faith in her, I do not wish you to lose it through me."

All said that it would be well, and then M. Angelo began to say:

"And what is there more profitable in the business and undertaking of war, or what is of more use in the operations of sieges and a.s.saults than painting? Do you not know that when Pope Clement and the Spaniards besieged Florence, it was only by the work and virtue of the painter M.

Angelo that the besieged were defended a good while, not to say, the city released, and the captains and soldiers outside were for a good while astonished and oppressed and killed through the defences and strongholds which I made on the tower, lining them in one night on the outside with bags of wool and other materials, emptying them of earth and filling them with fine powder, with which I burnt a little the blood of the Castillians, whom I sent through the air torn in pieces? So that I consider great painting as not only profitable in war, but exceedingly necessary; for the engines and instruments of war and for catapults, rams, mantlets, testudines, and iron-shod towers and bridges, and (as this bad and iron time does not make any use of these arms now, but rejects them) mortars; for the shaping of the mortars, battering-rams, strengthened cannons, and arquebuses, and especially for the shape and proportions of all fortresses and rocks, bastions, strongholds, fences, mines, countermines, trenches, loop-holes, casemates; for the entrenchments for hors.e.m.e.n, ravelins, gabions, battlements, for the invention of bridges and ladders, for the emplacement of camps, for the order of the lines, measurement of the squadrons, for the difference and design of arms, for the designs of the banners and standards, for the devices on the shields and helmets, and also for new coats of arms, crests and medals which are given on the field to those who show great prowess, for the painting of trappings (I mean, the giving of instruction to other lesser painters as to how they ought to be painted, and seeing that the excellent painters can paint the trappings of the horses and the shields and even the tents for valorous princes); for the manner of dividing and selecting everything; for the description and a.s.sortment of the colours and liveries, which but few can determine. Moreover, drawing is of exceedingly great use in war to show in sketches the position of distant places and the shape of the mountains and the harbours, as well as that of the ranges of mountains and of the bays and seaports, for the shape of the cities and fortresses, high and low, the walls and the gates and their position, to show the roads and the rivers, the beaches and the lagoons and marshes which have to be avoided or pa.s.sed; for the course and s.p.a.ces of the deserts and sandy pits of the bad roads and of the woods and forests; all this done in any other way is badly understood, but by drawing and sketching all is very clear and intelligible; all of these are great things in warlike undertakings, and the drawings of the painter greatly aid and a.s.sist the intentions and plans of the captain. What better thing can any brave cavalier do than show before the eyes of the raw and inexperienced soldiers the shape of the city that they have to attack before they approach it, what river, what mountains and what towns have to be pa.s.sed on the morrow? And the Italians, at least, say that, if the Emperor when he entered Provence had first ordered the course of the river Rodano to be drawn, he would not have sustained such great losses, nor retired his army in disorder, nor would he have been painted afterwards in Rome as a crab, which crawls sideways, with the words borne by the columns of Hercules, _Plus ultra_, for, wishing to go forward, he went back. And I well believe that Alexander the Great in his great undertakings frequently made use of the skill of Apelles, even if he himself did not know how to draw. And in the works and commentaries, written by the monarch Julius Caesar, we may see how much he availed himself of drawing, through some capable man whom he had in his army. And I even think that the said Caesar was extremely intelligent in painting, that the great Captain Pompey drew very well and with style, he being vanquished by Caesar, as Caesar was a better draughtsman. And I a.s.sert that a modern captain who commands a great army and who is not capable and intelligent in painting and cannot draw, cannot do any great feats or deeds of arms; and that he who understands and esteems it will do deeds of renown which will be long remembered, and will know his ways and how he stands, and how and where he will break through, and how he will order his retreat, and he will know how to make his victory appear much greater. For painting in war is not only advantageous but very necessary. What country warmed by the sun is more bellicose and better armed than our Italy, or where are there more continuous wars and greater routs and sieges? and in what country warmed by the sun is painting more esteemed and celebrated than in Italy?"

M. Angelo was already reposing when Joo capata said:

"It indeed seems to me, Master Michael, that in arming excellently Francisco d'Ollanda's lady you disarmed the Emperor Charles, not remembering that we here are more Colonna than Orsino. I do not wish to revenge myself for that except by asking you, since you have shown the worth of painting in war, to now say what it can do in peace, because it appears to me that you have said so many profitable things of it in the time of arms that I doubt whether you will find as many in the time of the toga."

He laughed and answered:

"Your Excellency will please not to count me as an Orsino. You will remember how I at once became one of those columns that the crab was going to seek;" and afterwards he added:

"If it was a trouble for me to show the advantage of this our art in time of war, I hope it will not be so to show its worth in the time of the toga and of peace; then princes are in the habit of availing themselves with pleasure and cost of things of very little importance and almost of no value at all; and we see that some men are so clever in idle things that by works of no n.o.bility or profit, and without any learning or substance, they are able to acquire a name, honour, profit and substance for themselves and loss to whomsoever may give them their profit. We see that in the domains and states which are governed by a senate and republic they make much use of painting in public places, in the cathedrals, in the temples, in halls of justice, in courts, porticos, basilicas and palaces, in libraries, and generally for public ornament; and every n.o.ble citizen has privately in his palaces or chapels, country seats or 'vignas,' a good portion of painting. But as it is not lawful in such a country for any one to make more show than his neighbour, by giving commissions to painters so as to make themselves out rich and well-to-do, with how much more reason ought this profitable art and science to be made use of in the obedient and peaceful kingdoms where G.o.d permits one man to incur all these magnificent expenses and carry out all the sumptuous works that his taste and honour may desire and demand, particularly as it is such a generous art that one person can do alone and without any adviser what many men together cannot do? And a prince would be doing a great wrong to himself-to say nothing of the fine arts-if, when he obtains quietness and saintly peace, he does not undertake great enterprises in painting both for the ornamentation and glory of his estate and for his private contentment and the recreation of his mind. And then in times of peace there are so many things in which painting may be of use, that it seems to me that peace is obtained with so much labour of arms, for nothing else but in order to do her work, and carry out enterprises with the quiet which she merits and demands, after the great services she has rendered in war. For what name will remain alive in consequence of a great victory or a great feat of arms, if afterwards, when quiet comes, it be not kept in perpetual memory (a thing so important and necessary amongst men), by virtue of painting and architecture, in arches, triumphs and tombs, and in many other ways. And Augustus Caesar departed not from my saying when, during the universal peace in all lands, he closed the doors of the Temple of Ja.n.u.s, because in closing those doors of iron he opened the doors of gold of the treasures of the Empire, in order to spend more largely in peace than he had done even in war; and perhaps amongst such ambitious and magnificent works as those with which he ornamented Mount Palatine and the Forum, he paid as much for a figure in painting as he would have paid to a regiment of soldiers in a month. So that the peace of great princes should be desired in order that they may give their country great works in painting for the ornamentation of their estate and their glory, and receive from them spiritual and special contentments and beautiful things to behold."

"I do not know, Senhor Michael," said I, "how you will prove to me that Augustus paid as much for a painted figure as he would pay to a regiment of soldiers for a month; if you were to say that in Spain it would be more difficult to believe you, than if you said that there were such bad painters in Italy that they painted the Emperor with the legs of a crab and with the label, _Plus ultra_!"

Senhor Michael laughed once more, without the Marchioness, and afterwards said:

"I well know that in Spain people do not pay so well for painting as in Italy, and therefore you will be surprised at the great sums paid for it, as you are only accustomed to small sums; and I have been well informed of this by a Portuguese servant that I had, and therefore painters live and exist here, and not in the Spains. Of the Spaniards, the finest n.o.bility in the whole world, you will find some who applaud and praise and like painting to a certain extent, but on pressing them further, they have no mind to order even a small work, nor to pay for it; and, what I consider baser still they are astonished when they are told that there are persons in Italy who give good prices for paintings; indeed, in my judgment they do not act in this like such n.o.ble people as they say they are, even though it were for nothing else but not to undervalue that which they have no experience of and cannot do; it recoils on their own head, however, they demean themselves and disgrace the n.o.bility of which they boast; and not indeed that virtue, which will always be esteemed so long as there are men here in Italy and in this city. And for this reason a painter ought not to desire to be away from this land in which we are; and you, M.

Francisco d'Ollanda, if you hope to be appreciated through the art of painting in Spain or in Portugal, I tell you at once that you are living in a vain and false hope, and that in my judgment you ought rather to live in France or in Italy, where talent is recognised and great painting is much esteemed, because you will find here private persons and gentlemen, even those who at present do not take much pleasure in painting, as for instance Andrea Doria, who nevertheless had his palace painted magnificently, and magnificently paid Master Perino his painter; and like Cardinal Fernes, who does not know what painting is, but who made a very nice allowance to the said Master Perino, merely to call him his painter, giving him twenty 'cruzados' per month and rations for him and for a horse and servant, besides paying him very well for his works. See what Cardinal Della Valla or Cardinal de Cesis did. Likewise Pope Paul, who, although not very musical nor interested in painting, yet treats me well, and at least better than I ask; and then there is Urbino, my servant, to whom he gives solely for grinding my colour ten 'cruzados' a month besides rations in the palace. I say nothing of his vain favours and kindnesses, of which I sometimes feel ashamed. Now, what shall I say of the diverting Sebastian Veneziano? to whom (although he did not come at a favourable time) the Pope gave the Leaden Seal, with the honour and profit which appertain to that office, without the lazy painter having painted more than two things in Rome, which will not astonish Senhor Francisco much. So that in this our country, even those who do not esteem painting greatly, pay for it much better than those who are greatly delighted with it in Spain or Portugal; and therefore I advise you as a son that you ought not to depart from Italy, because I fear that if you do you will repent it."

"I thank, you, Senhor Michael Angelo, for your advice," I said to him, "but still I am serving the King of Portugal, and in Portugal I was born and hope to die, and not in Italy. But as you make such a difference in the value of painting in Italy and in Spain, do me the favour of teaching me how painting ought to be valued, because I am in this matter so scandalised that I do not trust myself to value any work."

"What do you call valuing?" he replied. "Do you wish the painting which we are discussing to be paid for according to a valuation, or do you think that any one knows how to value it? for I consider that work to be worth a great price which has been done by the hand of a very capable man, even though in a short time; if it were done in a very long time who will know how to value it? And I hold that to be of very little value which has been painted in many years by a person who does not know how to paint, although he be called a painter; for works ought not to be esteemed because of the amount of time employed and lost in the labour, but because of the merit of the knowledge and of the hand which did them; for if it were not so, they would not pay more to a lawyer for an hour's examination of an important case, than to a weaver for as much cloth as he may weave during the course of his whole life, or to a navvy who is bathed in sweat the whole day by his work. By such variation nature is beautiful, and that valuation is very foolish which is made by one who does not understand the good or the bad in the work: some paintings worth little are valued highly, and others, which are worth more, do not even pay for the care with which they are done or for the discomfort that the painter himself experiences when he knows that such persons have to value his work, or for the exceeding disgust he feels asking for payment from an unappreciative treasurer.

"It does not seem to me that the ancient painters were content with your Spanish payments and valuations; and I certainly think they were not, for we find that some were so magnificently liberal that, knowing that there was not sufficient money in the country to pay for their works, they presented them liberally for nothing, having spent on such work, labour of their mind, time and money. Such were Zeuxis, Heracleotes and Polygnotus Thasius and others. And there were others of a more impatient nature who used to waste and break up the works that they had done with so much trouble and study, on seeing that they were not paid for as they deserved; like the painter who was commanded by Caesar to paint a picture, and having asked a sum of money for it that Caesar would not give, perhaps in order to effect his intention the better, the painter took the picture and was about to break it up, his wife and children around him bemoaning such great loss; but Caesar then delighted him, in a manner proper to a Caesar, giving him double the sum which he had previously asked, telling him that he was a fool if he expected to vanquish Caesar."

"Now, Senhor Michael," said Joo capata, a Spaniard, "one thing I cannot understand in the art of painting: it is customary at times to paint, as one sees in many places in this city, a thousand monsters and animals, some of them with faces of women and with legs and with tails of fishes, and others with arms like tigers' legs, and others with men's faces; in short, painting that which most delights the painter and which was never seen in the world."

"I am pleased," said Michael, "to tell you why it is usual to paint that which was never seen in the world, and how right such licence is, and how true it is, for some who do not understand him are accustomed to say that Horace, a lyric poet, wrote this verse in abuse of painters:

Pictoribus adque poetis Quidlibet audendi semper fuit acqua potestas.

Scimus et hanc veniam petimusque damusque vicissim.

This verse does not in any way insult painters, but rather praises and honours them; for it says that poets and painters have power to dare, I mean to dare to do whatever they may approve of; and this good insight and this power they have always had, for whenever a great painter (which very seldom happens) does a work which appears to be false and lying, that falsity is very true, and if he were to put more truth into it it would be a lie, as he will never do a thing which cannot be in itself, nor make a man's hand with ten fingers, nor paint on a horse the ears of a bull or the hump of a camel, nor will he paint the foot of an elephant with the same feeling as for that of a horse, nor in the arm or face of a child will he put the senses of an old man, nor an ear nor an eye out of its place by as much as the thickness of a finger, nor is he even permitted to place a hidden vein in an arm anywhere he likes; for such things as these are very false. But should he, in order better to retain the decorum of the place and time, alter some of the limbs (as in grotesque work, which without that would indeed be without grace and therefore false) or a part of one thing into another species such as to change a griffin or a deer from the middle downwards into a dolphin, or from thence upwards into any figure he may wish, putting wings instead of arms, putting off arms if wings suit it better, that limb which he changes, whether of a lion, horse or bird, will be quite perfect of the species to which it belongs; and this although it may appear false can only be called well imagined and monstrous. The reason is it is better decoration when, in painting, some monstrosity is introduced for variety and a relaxation of the senses and to attract the attention of mortal eyes, which at times desire to see that which they have never yet seen, nor does it appear to them that it can be more unreasonable (although very admirable) than the usual figures of men or animals. And so it is that insatiable human desire took licence and neglected at times buildings with columns and windows and doors for others imitated in false grotesque, the columns of which are made of children springing from the leaves of flowers, with the architraves and summit of branches of myrtle and gates of canes and other things, which appear to be very impossible and out of reason, and yet all this is very grand if done by one who understands it."

He ended, and I said:

"Does it not seem to you, Senhor, that this feigned work is much more suitable for ornament in its proper place (such as a country seat or a pleasure house) rather than, for instance, a procession of friars, which is a very natural thing, or a King David doing penance, is it not a great insult to drag him from his oratory? And does not the G.o.d Pan playing on the pipes, or a woman with the tail of a fish and wings (which is seldom seen), appear to you to be a more suitable painting for a garden or for a fountain? And it is a much greater falsity to put an imagination in a place where the real is demanded, and this reasoning explains all the things which some call 'impossibilities' in painting. Still the obstinate will say: 'How can a woman with a beautiful face have the tail of a fish and the legs of the swift deer or panther, with wings on her back like an angel?' To such one may however reply that if such nonconformity is in just proportion in all its parts it is quite in harmony and is very natural; and that much praise is due to the painter who painted a thing which was never seen and is so impossible, with such wit and judgment that it seems to be alive and possible, so that men wish that such things did exist in the world, and say that they could pluck feathers from those wings and that it is moving hands and eyes. And so one who paints (as a book said) a hare which, in order to be distinguished from the dog following it, required a label indicating it, such a person, painting a thing so little deceitful, may be said to paint a great falsehood, more difficult to find amongst the perfect works of nature than a beautiful woman with the tail of a fish and wings."

They agreed with what I said, even Joo capata himself, who was not well instructed in the beauties of painting. And Master Michael, seeing that his conversation was not badly employed on us, said:

"Now what a high thing is decorum in painting! and how little the painters who are no painters try to observe it! and what attention the great man pays to this!"

"And are there painters who are not painters?" asked Joo capata."

"In many places," answered the painter, "but as the majority of people are without sense and always love that which they ought to abhor, and blame that which deserves most praise, it is not very surprising that they are so constantly mistaken about painting, an art worthy only of great understandings, because without any discretion or reason, and without making any difference, they call a painter both the person who has nothing more than the oils and brushes of painting and the ill.u.s.trious painter who is not born in the course of many years (which I consider to be a very great thing); and as there are some who are called painters and are not painters, so there is also painting which is not painting, for they did it. And what is marvellous is that a bad painter neither can nor knows how to imagine, nor does he even desire to do good painting, his work mostly differs but little from his imagination, which is generally somewhat worse; for if he knew how to imagine well or in a masterly manner in his fantasy, he could not have a hand so corrupt as not to show some part or indication of his good will. But no one has ever known how to aspire well in this science, except the mind which understands what good work is, and what he can make of it. It is a serious thing, this distance and difference which exist between the high and the low understanding in painting."

At this point M. Lactancio, who had not spoken for some time, said:

"I cannot suffer at all one indiscretion of bad painters, the images which they paint without consideration or devotion in the churches. And I should like to direct our discussion to this end, being sure that the carelessness with which some paint the holy images cannot be good. Work which a very incapable painter or man dares to do, without any fear, so ignorantly that instead of moving mortals to devotion and tears, he sometimes provokes them to laughter."

"This sort of painting is a great undertaking," proceeded M. Angelo; "in order to imitate to some extent the venerable image of our Lord it is not sufficient merely to be a great master in painting and very wise, but I think that it is necessary for the painter to be very good in his mode of life, or even, if such were possible, a saint, so that the Holy Spirit may inspire his intellect. And we read that Alexander the Great put a heavy penalty upon any painter other than Apelles who should paint him, for he considered that man alone able to paint his appearance with that severity and liberal mind which could not be seen without being praised by the Greeks and feared and adored by the barbarians. And therefore if a poor man of this earth so commanded by edict concerning his image, how much more reason have the ecclesiastical or secular princes to take care to order that no one shall paint the benignity and meekness of our Redeemer or the purity of Our Lady and the Saints but the most ill.u.s.trious painters to be found in their domains and provinces? And this would be a very famous and much praised work in any lord. And even in the Old Testament G.o.d the Father wished that those who only had to ornament and paint the _arca foederis_ should be masters not merely excellent and great, but also touched by His grace and wisdom, G.o.d saying to Moses that He would imbue them with the knowledge and intelligence of His Spirit so that they might invent and do everything that He could invent and do. And therefore if G.o.d the Father willed that the ark of His Covenant should be well ornamented and painted, how much more study and consideration must He wish applied to the imitation of His Serene Face and that of His Son our Lord, and of the composure, chast.i.ty and beauty of the glorious Virgin Mary, who was painted by St. Luke the Evangelist, the work is in the Sancto Sanctorum, and the head of our Saviour which is in San Giovanni in Laterano, as we all know, and especially Messer Francisco. Frequently the images badly painted distract and cause devotion to be lost, at least in those who possess little; and, on the contrary, those that are divinely painted provoke and lead even those who are little devout and but little inclined to worship to contemplation and tears, and by their grave aspect imbue them with reverence and fear."

M. Lactancio then said, having turned towards me:

"Why did M. Angelo say of the picture of the Saviour, 'as we all know and especially Messer Francisco'?"

I answered: "Because, Senhor, he has already met me two or three times on the road to San Giovanni Laterano, going to obtain His grace for my salvation."

And I thereupon wished to cease speaking, but he desiring me to continue, I recommenced thus:

"Senhor, the Most Serene Queen of Portugal, being desirous of seeing the precious face of Our Saviour, ordered our amba.s.sador to have it drawn from the original, but I, not trusting this to anybody, wished, with the desire that I have to serve her, to dare to undertake this enterprise myself, for it is very fine as regards execution and no less as regards accuracy. And thus I have sent it to her, done under such difficulties as Your Excellencies can suspect."

"You cannot be a friend of the Lady Marchioness," said Joo capata," for you did not show her a thing which is so much to her liking; but tell me, Messer Francisco, did you do it with that severe simplicity which the old painting has and with that fear in those divine eyes which in the original seem to belong to the very Saviour?"

"I did it that way," I said to him, "and in it I desired to put all the truth, neither to increase nor diminish anything of that grave severity.

But I fear that this, which was my greatest work, will be the one the least known."

"No it will not," answered M. Lactancio Tolomei, "as in that they will trust to your knowledge, and it will be an image which will lead them to build a n.o.ble temple for it. I am astonished at your being able to reproduce and send it, for neither the Popes nor the Brothers of San Giovanni Laterano ever allowed the King of France or other devout princesses to do so."

Then M. Angelo said:

"It is astonishing how M. Francisco worked, and how he robbed Rome of this precious relic, and how he painted it in oils, although in all his life he had never been a painter in oils, and only made pictures. .h.i.therto easily contained on a small parchment."

"How can it be," said M. Lactancio, "that one who never painted in oils is capable of doing it, and that one who has always done little things can also do big ones?"

And as I did not reply, Michael Angelo answered him:

"Do not be surprised, sir, and as regards this I wish now to state my views about the n.o.ble art of painting. Let every man who is here understand this well: design, which by another name is called drawing, and consists of it, is the fount and body of painting and sculpture and architecture and of every other kind of painting, and the root of all sciences. Let whoever may have attained to so much as to have the power of drawing know that he holds a great treasure; he will be able to make figures higher than any tower, either in colours or carved from the block, and he will not be able to find a wall or enclosure which does not appear circ.u.mscribed and small to his brave imagination. And he will be able to paint in fresco in the manner of old Italy, with all the mixtures and varieties of colour usually employed in it. He will be able to paint in oils very suavely with more knowledge, daring and patience than painters.

And, finally, on a small piece of parchment he will be most perfect and great, as in all other manners of painting. Because great, very great is the power of design and drawing. Senhor Francisco d'Ollanda can paint, if he wishes, everything that he knows how to draw."

"I will not ask again about another doubt," said M. Lactancio, "because I dare not."

"Please to dare, Your Excellency," said Michael Angelo, "for as we have already sacrificed the day to painting, let us likewise offer up the night which is setting in."

He then said: "I wish finally to know what this painting that is so fine and rare must possess or what it is? Whether there must be tourneys painted, or battles, or kings and emperors covered with brocade, or well-dressed damsels, or landscapes and fields and towns? Or whether perchance it must be some angel or some saint painted and the actual form of this world? Or what must it be? Whether it must be done with gold or with silver, whether with very fine tints or with very brilliant ones?"

"Painting," M. Angelo began, "is not such a great work as any of those which you have mentioned, sir, only the painting which I so much vaunt and praise will be the imitation of some single thing amongst those which immortal G.o.d made with great care and knowledge and which He invented and painted, like to a Master: and so downwards, whether animals or birds, dispensing perfection according as each thing merits it. And in my judgment that is the excellent and divine painting which is most like and best imitates any work of immortal G.o.d, whether a human figure, or a wild and strange animal, or a simple and easy fish, or a bird of the air or any other creature. And this neither with gold nor silver nor with very fine tints, but drawn only with a pen or a pencil, or with a brush in black and white. To imitate perfectly each of these things in its species seems to me to be nothing else but to desire to imitate the work of immortal G.o.d.

And yet that thing will be the most n.o.ble and perfect in the works of painting which in itself reproduced the thing which is most n.o.ble and of the greatest delicacy and knowledge. And what barbarous judge is there that cannot understand that the foot of a man is more n.o.ble than his shoe?

His skin than that of the sheep from which his clothes are made? And who from this will proceed to find the merit and degree in everything? But I do not mean that, because a cat or a wolf is vile, the man who paints them skilfully has not as much merit as one who paints a horse, or the body of a lion, as even (as I have said above) in the simple shape of a fish there is the same perfection and proportion as in the form of man, and I may say the same of all the world itself with all its cities. But all must be ranked according to the work and study which one demands more than another, and this should be taught to some ignorant persons who have said that some painters painted faces well but that they could not paint anything else. Others have said that in Flanders they painted clothes and trees extremely well, and some have maintained that in Italy they paint the nude and symmetry or proportions better. And of others they say other things. But my opinion is that he who knows how to draw well and merely does a foot or a hand or a neck, can paint everything created in the world; and yet there are painters who paint everything there is in the world so imperfectly and so much without worth that it would be better not to do it at all. One recognises the knowledge of a great man in the fear with which he does a thing the more he understands it. And on the contrary, the ignorance of others in the foolhardy daring with which they fill pictures with what they know nothing about. There may be an excellent master who has never painted more than a single figure, and without painting anything more deserves more renown and honour than those who have painted a thousand pictures: he knows better how to do what he has not done than the others know what they do.

"And not only is this as I tell you, but there is another wonder which seems greater, namely, that if a capable man merely makes a simple outline, like a person about to begin something, he will at once be known by it-if Apelles, as Apelles; if an ignorant painter, as an ignorant painter. And there is no necessity for more, neither more time, nor more experience, nor examination, for eyes which understand it and for those who know that by a single straight line Apelles was distinguished from Protogenes, immortal Greek painters."