hold that imitation is as hurtful to the more advanced student as it was
advantageous to the beginner.

For my own part, I confess I am not only very much disposed to lay down
the absolute necessity of imitation in the first stages of the art, but
am of opinion that the study of other masters, which I here call
imitation, may be extended throughout our whole life without any danger
of the inconveniences with which it is charged, of enfeebling the mind,
or preventing us from giving that original air which every work
undoubtedly ought always to have.

I am, on the contrary, persuaded that by imitation only, variety, and
even originality of invention is produced.

I will go further; even genius, at least what generally is so called, is
the child of imitation. But as this appears to be contrary to the
general opinion, I must explain my position before I enforce it.

Genius is supposed to be a power of producing excellences which are out
of the reach of the rules of art--a power which no precepts can teach,
and which no industry can acquire.

This opinion of the impossibility of acquiring those beauties which stamp
the work with the character of genius, supposes that it is something more
fixed than in reality it is, and that we always do, and ever did agree,
about what should be considered as a characteristic of genius.

But the truth is that the degree of excellence which proclaims genius is
different in different times and different places; and what shows it to
be so is that mankind have often changed their opinion upon this matter.