have you believe that he is waiting for the inspirations of genius, is in
reality at a loss how to beam, and is at last delivered of his monsters
with difficulty and pain.

The well-grounded painter, on the contrary, has only maturely to consider
his subject, and all the mechanical parts of his art follow without his
exertion, Conscious of the difficulty of obtaining what he possesses he
makes no pretensions to secrets, except those of closer application.
Without conceiving the smallest jealousy against others, he is contented
that all shall be as great as himself who are willing to undergo the same
fatigue: and as his pre-eminence depends not upon a trick, he is free
from the painful suspicions of a juggler, who lives in perpetual fear
lest his trick should be discovered.



A DISCOURSE
Delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy on the Distribution of the
Prizes, December, 14, 1770, by the President.


Gentlemen,--It is not easy to speak with propriety to so many students of
different ages and different degrees of advancement. The mind requires
nourishment adapted to its growth; and what may have promoted our earlier
efforts, might, retard us in our nearer approaches to perfection.

The first endeavours of a young painter, as I have remarked in a former
discourse, must be employed in the attainment of mechanical dexterity,
and confined to the mere imitation of the object before him. Those who
have advanced beyond the rudiments, may, perhaps, find advantage in