diffidence; and when better are suggested, shall retract them without
regret.

There is one precept, however, in which I shall only be opposed by the
vain, the ignorant, and the idle. I am not afraid that I shall repeat it
too often. You must have no dependence on your own genius. If you have
great talents, industry will improve them: if you have but moderate
abilities, industry will supply their deficiency. Nothing is denied to
well-directed labour: nothing is to be obtained without it. Not to enter
into metaphysical discussions on the nature or essence of genius, I will
venture to assert, that assiduity unabated by difficulty, and a
disposition eagerly directed to the object of its pursuit, will produce
effects similar to those which some call the result of natural powers.

Though a man cannot at all times, and in all places, paint or draw, yet
the mind can prepare itself by laying in proper materials, at all times,
and in all places. Both Livy and Plutarch, in describing Philopoemen,
one of the ablest generals of antiquity, have given us a striking picture
of a mind always intent on its profession, and by assiduity obtaining
those excellences which some all their lives vainly expect from Nature. I
shall quote the passage in Livy at length, as it runs parallel with the
practice I would recommend to the painter, sculptor, or architect.

"Philopoemen was a man eminent for his sagacity and experience in
choosing ground, and in leading armies; to which he formed his mind by
perpetual meditation, in times of peace as well as war. When, in any
occasional journey, he came to a straight difficult passage, if he was
alone, he considered with himself, and if he was in company he asked his
friends what it would be best to do if in this place they had found an
enemy, either in the front, or in the rear, on the one side, or on the