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THE GRAVE 

A POEM 



BY ROBERT BLAIR 
ILLUSTRATED BY TWELVE ETCHINGS 

EXECUTED BY L. SCHIAVONETTI 
FROM THE ORIGINAL INVENTIONS OF 

WILLIAM BLAKE 



A NEW EDITION 




NEW YORK 

D. APPLETON & COMPANY 
1903 



NOTE 

HTHIS Issue is founded on the Edition 
published by R. H. Cromek in 
the year 1808 






628920 






: G 



A 



l 



v& /w/ve 
Cxecnted 



JLOU1S STHIAVOICETTK, 



Inventions 



WIJLJLIAM 





TO 

THE QUEEN 

t/ THE Door of Death is made of Gold, 
That Mortal Eyes cannot behold ; 
But, when the Mortal Eyes are clos'd, 
And cold and pale the Limbs repos'd, 
The Soul awakes ; and, wond'ring, sees 
In her mild Hand the Golden Keys : 

kXThe Grave is Heaven's golden Gate, 
And rich and poor around it wait ; 
O Shepherdess of England's Fold, 
Behold this Gate of Pearl and Gold ! 

To dedicate to England's Queen 
The Visions that my Soul has seen, 
And, by Her kind permission, bring 
What I have borne on solemn Wing, 
From the vast regions of the Grave, 
Before Her Throne my Wings I wave ; 
Bowing before my Sov'reign's Feet, 
(j " The Grave produc'd these Blossoms sweet 
, In mild repose from Earthly strife ; 
J The Blossoms of Eternal Life ! " 

WILLIAM BLAKE 



LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS 



THE QUEEN 



THE Right Hon. the Earl 

of Aylsford 
David Allen, Esq. 
Mr. Allen, Portrait Painter 
Mr. Aldrich 
Thos. Alsop, Esq. 
Mr. Audinet 
Mr. Armstrong 

Lady Bedingfeld 

Sir R. N. Gore Booth, Bart. , 

Sligo 

John Bull, Esq. 
Thomas Butts, Esq. 
Miss Baxter 
Mr. T. Baxter 
Rev. H. V. Bayley, M.A., 

Sub-Dean of Lincoln 
Rev. John Beevor, Clay- 
pole, near Newark 
Samuel Beddome, Esq., 

Clapham 

Boswell Beddojne, Esq. 
Josephus Beddome, Esq., 

2 Copies 

Sir William Beechey 
Mr. William Barnard 
Samuel Barker, Esq., Lich- 

field 

Miss Bentley 
Miss Beverley 
John Birch, Esq., Surgeon 

Extraordinary to the 

Prince of Wales 



R. Bowyer, Esq., 2 Copies 

Mr. Fleming Brisco 

Mr. William Bromley, 
Hammersmith 

Mr. Bubb, Sculptor 

Mr. Adam Buck 

Samuel Boddington, Esq., 
M.P. 

Henry Bone, Esq., A.R.A. 

Mr. Brohitr 

Dr. Buchan 

Mr. Barratt, Bookseller, 
Bath, 8 Copies 

Mr. John P. Baldry, Shad- 
well Dock 

Mr. J. Brown, Boston 

Mr. T. Barber, Sheffield 

Mr. T E. Bennett, Bank 
of England 

Earl of Carlisle 

Rev. Edward Cannon 

Rev John Clowes, M.A., 

Ham, Staffordshire 
Mr. Cheesman 
George Frederick Cooke, 

Esq., Covent Garden 

Theatre 

Richard Cosway, Esq.,R.A. 
Richard Corbould, Esq. 
J. Chase, Esq., Paymaster 

to the Royal Regiment 

of Malta 
Mr. Francis Chantrey 



viii LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS 



Mr. Anthony Cardon 

Peter Coxe, Esq. 

Messrs. Colnaghi & Co., 

6 Copies 

Mr. Cawthorne, 4 Copies 
Theophilus Clarke, Esq., 

A.R.A. 
Mr. Thomas Cartwright, 

Bewdley 

Rev. Dr. Draper, Curate of 

St. Antholin's 
Mrs. Dawson 
Mr. J. C. Denham 
Philip Deare, Esq. 
Mr. Dagley, Doncaster 
Mr. John Dixon 
Thomas Daniell, Esq.,R.A. 
Mr. C. Dibdin, jun. 
Mr. J. Davis, Warmley 

Rev. John Evans, Islington 
R. Edwards, Esq., 6 Copies 
George Engleheart, Esq. 
E. Eyre, Esq., Lansdown 
Crescent, Bath 

Henry Fuseli, Esq., R.A., 

Keeper of the Royal 

Academy 
John Flaxman, Esq., R.A., 

Sculptor to the King 
Jesse Foot, Esq. 
JamesFittler,Esq.,A.R.A., 

Marine Engraver to the 

King 
Samuel Favell, Esq., Grove 

Hill, Camberwell 
Robert Fulton, Esq., 2 

Copies 
John Foster, Esq., Selby 

Fysh, Esq. 

Mr. Fox, Dentist 



Hon. Charles Gfeville, 2 
Copies 

William Guy, Esq. 

Mrs. Gutteridge, Camber- 
well 

Mr. Gainsford, Portrait 
Painter 

Mr. Green, Portrait Painter 

Mr. Green, Printseller, 
2 Copies 

Mr. Green, Landscape 
Draughtsman, Amble- 
side, 2 Copies 

Lady Hamilton, Merton 
Miss Horde, Lansdown 

Crescent, Bath 
William Hayley, Esq. 
Thomas Hope, Esq., Felf- 

ham 

Thomas Holcroft, Esq. 
John Heaviside, Esq. 
John Hoppner, Esq., R.A., 

Portrait Painter to his 

Royal Highness the 

Prince of Wales 
James Heath, Esq. , A.R.A. , 

Historical Engraver to 

the King 

Mr. Charles Heath 
Ozias Humphrey, Esq., 

R.A. 

Thomas Hague, Esq. 
Rev. Rowland Hill 
Mr. Halls 
Mr. C. Hunter 
Mr. Harlowe, Portrait 

Painter 

Mr. William Hopwood 
F. Hayward, Esq. 
Thomas Howard, Esq., 

Hattercliffe, Sheffield 
Mr. E. Harding, 2 Copies 



LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS 



IX 



Samuel Hill, Esq. 

Mr. Halley, Rotherham 

David Haynes, Esq., Lone- 
some Lodge, Surrey 

Miss Haynes, Twickenham 
Lodge 

Rev. P. Inchbald, Don- 
caster 

Thomas Johnes, Esq., 
M.P., Hafod 

Mr. Francis James 

Mr. Kearsley, Bookseller 
Mr. G. H. King, Glasgow 
Edward Kershaw, Esq., 
Stockport 

Thomas Lawrence, Esq., 

R.A., Principal Painter 

in Ordinary to his 

Majesty 
William Locke, jun., Esq., 

Norbury Park 
James Lowthrop, Esq., 

Welton, near Hull 
Mr. Langastre, Crayon 

Painter 
Mr. Lonsdale, Portrait 

Painter 
Mr. Lawzun 
John Landseer, Esq., 

F.A.S., Engraver to the 

King 
Mr. Fran. Legat, Historical 

Engraver to the Prince 

of Wales 

Jeff. Ludlam, Esq. 
Mr. Lewis 
Messrs. Longman, Hurst, 

Rees, and Orme, 6 Copies 
John Lowder, Esq., Chapel 

House, Bath 

Miss Maskall 



Mr. Montgomery, Sheffield 

Benj. Heath Malkin, Esq., 
M.A., F.S.A., Hackney 

Mr. Masquerier 

William Meredith, Esq. 

D. H. M'Dowal, Esq., 
Walkinshaw House, near 
Paisley 

Mr. Marshall, Bookseller, 
Bath, 4 Copies 

W. Meyler and Son, Book- 
sellers, Bath, 2 Copies 

Mr. Moses 

Mr. Molteno, 6 Copies 

Mr. Maberley 

Mr. William Miller, Book- 
seller, 6 Copies 

Mr. John Murray, Book- 
seller, 6 Copies 

John Mair, Esq., Planta- 
tion, near Glasgow 

J. Nollekens, Esq., R.A. 
Miss Norris 
Mr. Neagle 
Mr. Joseph Nutting 
Mr. Ambrose Nicholls, 
Bank of England 

Rev. John Oldham, M.A., 
Rector of Stondon, Essex 

Colonel O'Kelly 

The late John Opie, Esq., 
R.A. 

William Owen, Esq., R.A 

Mr. Joseph Orme 

Mr. Ogler, Surgeon 

Mr. Ogborne 

Mr. Edward Orme, 2 Copies 

Mr. Owen Owen 

T. Philips, Esq., R.A. 
Mrs. Harriet Poole, Levant, 
near Chichester 



LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS 



W. S. Poyntz, Esq. 

Mr. Paillon, Miniature 
Painter, Glasgow 

William Palmer, Esq. 

Samuel Palmer, Esq., 
Bourton on the Water 

Charles Phillott, Esq., Bath 

Mr. John Pye 

Mr. William Prossu, Glou- 
cester 

Lord Ribblesdale, Gisburne 
Park, Yorkshire 

Sir James Riddell, Mor- 
timer, Berkshire 

Sir Henry Rivers 

Mr. Abraham Raimbach 

John Francis Rigaud, Esq., 
R.A. 

Mr. Richardson, Print- 
seller, 4 Copies 

Mr. Ramsay, Portrait 
Painter 

Mr.Henry Richter, ^ Copies 

Mr. Roffe 

Charles Rossi, Esq., R.A. 

Mr. A. Robertson, Minia- 
ture Painter to his Royal 
Highness the Duke of 
Sussex 

F. J. Du Roveray, Esq. 

Joshua Reve, Esq., Chat- 
ham Place 

P. Robinson, jun., Esq., 
Norton, near Sheffield 

Mr. Eben. Richardson, 
Glasgow 

Right Hon. Earl Spencer 
Mrs. Schutz, Gillingham 

Hall, Suffolk 
W. E. Sheffield, Esq., 

Sommers Town 



Mr. John Scott 
Mr. Edward Smith 
Stephen Simpson, Esq., 

Close, Lichfield 
Thomas Stothard, Esq. , 

R.A. 

M. A. Shee, Esq., R.A. 
Mr. Henry Singleton 
Mr. William Sharp 
Mr. John Sharpe, Northend 
Mr. Seagrave, Printer, 

Chichester 
Richard Vernor Sadleir, 

Esq., Southampton 
John Soane, Esq., R.A. 
Mr. John Stephenson, Hull, 

2 Copies 
John Symmons, Esq., Pad- 

dington House 
Mr. Swan, Shad well Dock 
Miss Swayne, Salisbury 
Mr. Seybold, Bath 

Miss Temple, Northwood 
Place, Beccles, Suffolk 

Rev. Joseph Thomas, Rec- 
tor of Epsom 

Henry Tresham, Esq. , R.A. 

Henry Thomson, Esq., 
R.A. 

Dr. Thornton 

John Townley, Esq. 

Mrs. Turner, Brentford 

Thomas Tomkins, Esq., 
Sermon Lane 

Mr. Tomkins, Engraver to 
her Majesty 

Mr. Henry Thwaites 

Mr. Upham, Bookseller, 

Bath, 6 Copies 
Mrs. Udny 
Mr. Thomas Uwins 



LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS 



XI 



Benjamin West, Esq., 

President of the Royal 

Academy 
Sir Henry Wilson, Chelsea 

Park 
R. Westmacott, jun., Esq., 

A.R.A. 

T. G. Worthington, Esq. 
Rev. Wm. Williams, M.A., 

Prebendary of Landaff 
Mr. W. H. Watts 
James Ward, Esq., A.R.A. , 

Painter to his . Royal 

Highness the Prince of 

Wales 
William Williams, Esq., 

Maida Hill 
Miss Wheeler 
Rev. Mr. White, Lichfield 
Mr. Wright, Museum, 

Lichfield 

Mr. Charles Warren 
Mr. W. H. Worthington 
Mr. Charles White 
Mr. Wright 
Mr. Henry Wood 
T. A. Ward, Esq., Sheffield 
Mr. Francis Webster, 

Kendal 

John Venn, Esq., R.A., 
Kensington 

LIVERPOOL 

William Roscoe, Esq. 
W. S. Roscoe, Esq. 
John Moss, Esq. 
Mrs. Moss 
Mrs. Hodson 
Edgar Corrie, Esq. 
Mr. Edward Corrie, 2 
Copies 



Samuel Staniforth, Esq. 

James Gregson, Esq. 

Arthur Heywood, Esq. 

M. J. A. Yates 

Rev. John Smyth 

Mr. G. F. Harris 

John Gladstone, Esq. 

Mr. William Miller, Edge- 
Hill 

Mr. Robert Jones 

Rev. Wm. Shepherd, Gat- 
acre 

Dr. Trail! 

Mr. Robinson, Bookseller 

Mr. Samuel Sandbach 

Mr. John Sutherland 

H. M'Corquodale, Esq. 

Miss Brandreth 

Mr. John Cawson 

Duncan M'Viccar, Esq. 

Mr. J. Hornby 

Mr. Thomas Chaffers 

Mr. Charles Bardswell 

Mr. Joseph Johnson 

Mr. George Bullock 

J. T. Koster, Esq. 

Dr. Crompton, Eton-House 

Mr. S. Franceys 

Mr. William Harvey 

Mr. Robert Makin 

Mr. Richard Hanly 

Mr. Henry Hole 

Mr. Thomas Crowder 

Mr. John Foster 

Mr. John Brancker 

Miss Roughsedge 

Mr. Mason 

Mr. Lace 

Mr. Matthew Gregson 

Mr. Thomas Wiatt 

Mr. Edward Rogers 

Mr. Thomas Hargreaves 

Mr. J. A. Case 



Xll 



LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS 



Mr. Thomas Holt 
Mr. John Currie 
Mr. Lonsdale 



BIRMINGHAM AND 
ITS VICINITY 

Matthew Robinson Boul- 
ton, Esq., Soho 

James Watt, Esq., Heath- 
field 

James Watt, jun., Esq. 

Rev. Dr. Croft 

Samuel Galton, Esq., Dud- 
son 

John Taylor, Esq. 

James Taylor, Esq. 

James Lloyd, Esq. 

James Woolley, Esq. 

Isaac Spooner, jun., Esq. 

William Smith, Esq., Sand- 
hill 

John Startin, Esq., Spring- 
Hill 

Walter William Capper, 
Esq. 

Dr. John Johnstone 

George Simcox, Esq. 

Edward Palmer, Esq. 

Rev. T. L. Freer, Rector 
of Handsworth 

Joseph Grice, Esq., Hands- 
worth 

Mr. Samuel Lowe, Glass- 
painter, Handsworth 

Henry Hadley, Esq. ,Hands- 
worth 

Mr. Richard Lawrence, 
Veterinary Surgeon 

Mr. Price Gordon 

Mr. Dutton 

Mr. Mark Sanders 



Mr. George Barker 

Mr. Charles Cope 

Mr. George Kennedy 

Mr. Samuel Hobday 

Messrs. Knott and Lloyd, 
6 Copies 

Messrs. Wilkes and Graf- 
ton, 4 Copies 

Mr. James Timmins 

Mr. Edward Thomason 

Mr. John Barr 

George Birch, Esq., Ham- 
stead Hall 

Mr. Richard Pratchett 

Mr. Henry Perkins 

Mr. Thomas Webb 

Mr. Joseph Rock 

Mr. Peter Kempson 

Mr. G. Guillod, Hampton- 
in-Arden 

Mr. Ward 

Mr. James Goddington 

Mr. Richard Jabet 

Mr. Francis Bird 

Mr. Thomas Phipson, jun. 

Mr. Thomas Potts 

Mr. Eginton, Engraver 

Mr. John Barnett 

Mr. Hodges, Soho 

Mr. William Radclyffe, 
Engraver 

Mr. J. P. Dearman 

Mrs. Ann Vickers 

William Fletcher, Esq., 
Erdington 

Rev. Joseph Cartwright, 
Dudley 

James Bourne, Esq. , Dudley 

Mr. John Badley, Dudley 

Mr. John Green, jun., 
Dudley 

The Library at Dudley 

Mr. Thomas Adams, Tipton 



LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS 



Xlll 



Mr.Jas.Whitehead,Tipton 


Mr. J. D. Burton 


Mr. Thomas Gwinnett, 


Mr. Colvard, Attorney at 


Tipton 


law 


Mr. William Brain, Tipton 


Mr. William Crawshaw 


Mr. Jeremiah Willetts, 


Mr. Richard Clay, Hudders- 


Tipton 


field 


Mr. Abraham Casson, Tip- 


Mr. Carr, Attorney at law 


ton 


Mr. Dawson, Attorney at 


Mr. Robert Boyle, Tipton 


law 


Mr. Wm. Underhill, jun., 


Mr. John Dixon 


Tipton 


Thomas Foljambe, Esq. 




Daniel Gaskell, Esq. 


HALIFAX 


Benjamin Hey wood, Esq., 


Colonel Horton, Howroyd 
Mr. W. Swainson 
Mr. George Casson 
Mr. Rowland Ramsden 
Mr. William Bradley 


Stanley-Hall 
Miss S. Hamer 
Mrs. Robert Halliley 
Mr. J. Holdsworth 
Mr. Samuel Hartley 
Mr John Hill 


Mr. Henry Lees Edwards, 
Haughend 
Mr. William Wilcock 


Francis Ingram, Esq. 
Benjamin Kennet Dawson, 

BMB 


Mr. J. Wilson, Triangle 
Miss Priestley, Thorpe 
Mr. Edwards, Bookseller, 


Esq. 
John Lee, Esq. 
Thomas Lee, Esq. 
Rev. Mr. Lonsdale, New 


2 Copies 


Miller Dam 


Mr. Thomas Taylor, 


Thomas Lumb, Esq., Sil- 


Barnsley 


coates 


PONTEFRACT 


Mr. Henry Lumb, Attorney 
at law 


John Seaton, Esq. 


Mr. Abraham Lee 


J. F. Seaton, Esq. 


Rev. Dr. Munkhouse 


Robert Seaton, Esq. 
Mr. Richard Hepworth 


William Martin, Esq. 
John Naylor,Esq. , Belle-vue 


Mr. Edward Trueman 


Rev. Thomas Rogers 


Mr. Thomas Belk 


Mr. William Rooth 


Mr. John Day 


John Ridsdale, Esq. 




Thomas Rishworth, Esq. 


WAKEFIELD, AND ITS 
VICINITY 


Mr. John Robson 
Mrs. Roberts, Pledwick 
Mr. Luke Race 


Mr. William Askham 


Colonel Serjeantson 


E. D. Brisco, Esq. 


Daniel Smalpage, Esq. 



XIV 



LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS 



William Smithson, Esq., 
Heath 

Josiah Smithson, Esq., 
Rothwell 

Mr. William Spicer 

Mr. J. Scott 

William Steer, Esq. 

Mr. J. Swallow 

Rev. S. Sharp 

John Tootal, Esq. 

Mr. Thomas Tootal 

Mr. T. Thompson 

Sir Francis Wood, Bart., 
Hems worth 

Rev. William Wood, Wood- 
thorp 

G. W. Wentworth, Esq., 
Woolley 

Shepley Watson, Esq., 
Hemsworth 

Charles Watson, Esq. 

Mr. John Wray 

Miss Walkers, St. John's 

Captain Waugh, Outwood 

LEEDS 

Edward Armitage, Esq. 
Thomas Wormald, Esq. 
Richard Wormald, Esq. 
Benjamin Gott, Esq. 
John Blaydes, Esq. 
George Smith, Esq. 
Alexander Turner, Esq. 
Benjamin Pullan, Esq. 
Richard Pullan, Esq. 
John Brooke, Esq. 
Mr. William Hett 
Mr. James Brown, sen. 
Mr. Benjamin Goodman 
T. Johnson, Esq., Holbeck 
John Smyth , Esq. , Holbeck , 
2 Copies 



Mr. John Hodgson 

Mr. S. Carr 

Mr. William Tetley 

Mr. Thomas Moorhouse 

Mr. Samuel Lumb 

Mr. George Paley 

Mr. James Maude 

Mr. William Radford 

Mr. Joseph Shaw 

Mr. Abram Rhodes 

Mr. John Sowden 

Mr. Michael Thackrey 

Mr. Charles Chadwick 

Mr. George Rawson 

Mr. Samuel Walker 

Mr. Livesey 

Mr Borel 

Mr. Richard Stead 

Mr. Thomas Butler, Kirk- 
stall-Forge 

Mr. Christopher Slater 

Mr. George Banks 

Mr. James Marsden, Brad- 
ford 

Darcey Lever, Esq. 

Mr. Joshua English 

Mr. Joseph Randall 

Mr. Thomas Brumfitt 

Mr. William Milburn 

Mr. Francis Sumpster 

Mr. William Westerman 

Mr. Jonathan Lupton 

Mr. William Smith 

Mrs. Stead 

Mr. Robert Barker 



MANCHESTER 

John Leigh Philips, Esq. 
Robert Philips, Esq., 

2 Copies 
George Philips, Esq. 



LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS 



Francis D. Astley, Esq.,; 
Duckenfield Lodge 

Mr. James Hervey, Ancoats 

Mr. James Mallalieu 

Dr. Bardsley 

John Stonehouse, Esq. 

Dr. Foxley 

Mr. John Whittenbury, 
Green Hay 

Benjamin A. Heywood,Esq. | 

John Entwisle, Esq., Fox- 
holes 

Mr. Heslop 

Rev. R. H. Whitelock, 
A.M. 

B. Booth, Esq. 

Mr. James Harrop 

Mr. John Wheeler 

Mr. Charles Wheeler 

Mr. Edward, Place 

Mr. R. B. Benson 

Mr. Ward, Surgeon 

Mr. Heslop 

Joseph Yates, Esq., Peele 
Hall 

Peter Crompton, Esq. 

Mr. William Sanders 

Mr. Samuel Burgess 

Mr. John Reddish 

Mr. Richard Rushforth 

Mrs. Nathan Hyde, Ard- 
wick 

Miss Peel, Ardwick 

Mr. R. Peel, Ardwick 

Mrs. Harvey, Ardwick 

Rev. Robert Tweddell, 
M.A., Ardwick 

Rev. C. W. Ethelstone, 
M.A., Ardwick 

Mr. J. H. Markland, Ard- 
wick 

Mr. Mawson, Ardwick 

Mr. Joseph Holt, Ardwick 



Mr. George Wilson, Ard- 
wick 

Mrs. Appleby 

Mr. Henry Basnett, Attor- 
ney at law 

Mr. James White 

Mr. W. Whitely, Yewtree 

Mr. T. Spratt 

Lawrence Brook Hollins- 
head, Esq. 

Mr. John Smith 

Mr. Thomas Fosbrook 

Mr. Samuel Burgess 

Samuel Jones, Esq., Green 
Hill 

William Jones, Esq., 
Broughton 

Mr. John Marsden 

Mr. John Barten 

Mr. John Sharpe, Attorney 
at law 

Mr. William Eccles, Attor- 
ney at law 

Mr. Richard Wood 

Joseph Hanson, Esq. , 
Strangeways 

Mr. Thos. Kershaw, Eccles 

Mr. William Nabb, Attor- 
ney at law 

Mr. Edward Hanson 

Mr. John Wood 

Mr. Adam Whitworth 

Mr. John Harrison 

Mr. Edward Frazer 

Mr. Thomas Mottram 

Mr. James Evans 

Mr. Matthew Rider 

J. Pooley, Esq. 

J. Bateman, jun., Esq. 

Samuel Greatrix, Esq., 
Taxall Lodge 

Mr. W. Ford, Bookseller, 
ii Copies 



XVI 



LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS 



NEWCASTLE-UPON- 
TYNE 

Mr. Thomas Bewick 

John Davidson, Esq. 

Thomas Davidson. Esq. 

Middleton Hewitson, Esq. 

Mr. Mitchell, Printer 

Mr. Richard Miller, Book- 
seller, z Copies 

Mr. William Redhead, jun. 

BRISTOL 

Mrs. Schimmelpenning 
Sir Henry Protheroe 
Mrs. Richard Smith 
John Haythorne, Esq. 
Richard Bright, Esq. 
Rev. Mr. Pons 
Winter Harris, jun., Esq. 
Benj. Baugh, Esq. 
Richard Vaughan, Esq., 

Redland 

Rev. Martin Whish 
John Harford, jun., Esq. 
Mr. William Clayfield 
Rev. William Thorp 
William Parsons, Esq. 
Dr. Fox 
Dr. Stock 
Messrs. Norton and Son, 

6 Copies 

Mr. Shepherd, 6 Copies 
Mr. Hobday 
Mr. Barry, Bookseller 



Mr. John Smith 

Miss Boyton 

Mr. E. Bird, z Copies 

Mr. Lee, Surgeon 

Mr. Holmes 

Mr. Boyd 

Mr. Hodges 

Mr. Joseph Ring 

Mr. Charles Danvers 

Dr. Craufuird, Clifton Hot 

Wells, z Copies 
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Bennucci, Esq., Clifton 

Captain Jo. Budworth, 

F.S. A., Clifton Cottage 

EDINBURGH 

John Clerk, Esq. 

Robert Blair, Esq. 

Alex. Maconochie, Esq. 

Adam Duff, Esq. 

David Hume, Esq. 

Dr. Robert Anderson 

Mr. Alexander Cunningham 

Mr. George Walker 

Mr. John Wauchope, W.S. 

Mr. Robert Scott 

Signet Library 

Mr. Murdoch 

Messrs. Constable and Co., 

iz Copies 
Mr. Somerville 
Mr. Foulis 
Messrs. Manners and Miller 



N.J3. Those Subscribers "whose residences are not attached 
to their names live in London. 



ADVERTISEMENT 

HpHE Proprietor of this Work feels highly 
gratified that it has afforded him an oppor- 
tunity of contributing to extend those boundaries 
of the Art of Design which are in themselves of 
the greatest beauty and value : he takes no other 
merit but this to himself, and gratefully acknow- 
ledges how much he has been obliged to various 
gentlemen of refined taste, artists of high rank, 
and men of established literary repute, for the aid 
they have been kindly pleased to grant. 

To the elegant and classical taste of Mr. FUSELI 
he is indebted for excellent remarks on the moral 
worth and picturesque dignity of the Designs that 
accompany this Poem. Mr. PHILIPS is entitled to 
his kindest thanks, for the capitally painted Portrait 
of Mr. WILLIAM BLAKE, which is here presented to 
the Subscribers ; and to Mr. SCHIAVONETTI he is 
under still greater obligations for a SERIES OF 
ETCHINGS which, it is not too much praise to say, 
no other artist could have executed so ably. 

That he might know how far he was warranted 
in calling the attention of the connoisseur to what 
he himself imagined to be a high and original effort 
of genius, the Proprietor submitted the Drawings, 



xviii ADVERTISEMENT 

before they were engraved, to the following gentle- 
men, members of the Royal Academy of Painting, 
in London. He would esteem himself culpable 
if he were to dismiss this Advertisement without 
publicly acknowledging the honourable and most 
liberal testimonial they bore to their excellence. 

BENJAMIN WEST, ESQ., 
PRESIDENT OF THE ROTAL ACADEMY. 



SIR WILLIAM BEECHEY. 
RICHARD COSWAY, ESQ. 
JOHN FLAXMAN, ESQ. 
THOMAS LAWRENCE, ESQ. 
JOSEPH NOLLEKENS, ESQ. 



WILLIAM OWEN, ESQ. 
THOMAS STOTHARD, ESQ. 
MARTIN ARCHER SHEE, 

ESQ. 
HENRY THOMSON, ESQ. 



HENRY TRESHAM, ESQ. 

R. H. CROMEK. 



LONDON, July 1808. 



THE moral series here submitted to the Public, 
from its object and method of execution, has a 
double claim on general attention. 

In an age of equal refinement and corruption of 
manners, when systems of education and seduction 
go hand in hand ; when religion itself compounds 
with fashion; when in the pursuit of present 
enjoyment, all consideration of futurity vanishes, 
and the real object of life is lost in such an age, 



ADVERTISEMENT xix 

every exertion confers a benefit on society which 
tends to impress man with his destiny, to hold the 
mirror up to life, less indeed to discriminate its 
characters, than those situations which show what 
all are born for, what all ought to act for, and what 
all must inevitably come to. __ 

The importance of this object has been so well 
understood at every period of time, from the earliest 
and most innocent, to the latest and most depraved, 
that reason and fancy have exhausted their stores 
of argument and imagery, to impress it on the 
mind: animate and inanimate nature, the seasons, 
the forest and the field, the bee and ant, the larva, 
chrysalis and moth, have lent their real or supposed 
analogies with the origin, pursuits, and end of the 
human race, so often to emblematic purposes, that 
instruction is become stale, and attention callous. 
The serpent with its tail in its mouth, from a type 
of eternity, is become an infant's bauble ; even the 
nobler idea of Hercules pausing between virtue and 
vice, or the varied imagery of Death leading his 
patients to the grave, owe their effect upon us more 
to technic excellence than allegoric utility. 

Aware of this, but conscious that affectation of 
originality and trite repetition would equally impede 
his success, the author of the moral series before us, 
has endeavoured to wake sensibility by touching 
our sympathies with nearer, less ambiguous, and 
less ludicrous imagery, than what mythology, Gothic 



xx ADVERTISEMENT 

superstition, or symbols as far-fetched as inade- 
quate, could supply. His invention has been 
chiefly employed to spread a familiar and domestic 
atmosphere round the most important of all subjects, 
to connect the visible and the invisible world, without 
provoking probability, and to lead the eye from the 
milder light of time to the radiations of eternity. 

Such is the plan and the moral part of the 
author's invention ; the technic part, and the 
execution of the artist, though to be examined by 
other principles, and addressed to a narrower circle, 
equally claim approbation, sometimes excite our 
wonder, and not seldom our fears, when we see 
him play on the very verge of legitimate invention ; 
but wildness so picturesque in itself, so often re- 
deemed by taste, simplicity, and elegance, what 
child of fancy, what artist would wish to discharge ? 
The groups and single figures on their own basis, 
abstracted from the general composition, and con- 
sidered without attention to the plan, frequently 
exhibit those genuine and unaffected attitudes, those 
simple graces which nature and the heart alone can 
dictate, and only an eye inspired by both, discover. 
Every class of artists, in every stage of their pro- 
gress or attainments, from the student to the finished 
master, and from the contriver of ornament, to the 
painter of history, will find here materials of art 
and hints of improvement ! 

HENRY FUSELI. 



THE GRAVE 

V\^HILST some affect the sun, and some the 

shade, 

Some flee the city, some the hermitage ; 
Their aims as various as the roads they take 
In journeying through life ; the task be mine 
To paint the gloomy horrors of the tomb ; 
Th* appointed place of rendezvous, where all 
These trav'llers meet. Thy succours I implore, 
Eternal King! whose potent arm sustains 
The keys of hell and death. The Grave, dread 

thing ! 

Men shiver when thou'rt nam'd : nature appall'd 
Shakes off her wonted firmness. Ah ! how dark 
Thy long-extended realms, and rueful wastes, 
Where nought but silence reigns, and night, dark 

night, 

Dark as was chaos ere the infant sun 
Was roll'd together, or had tried his beams 
Athwart the gloom profound ! The sickly taper, 
By glimm'ring through thy low-brow'd misty 

vaults, 

Furr'd round with mouldy damps and ropy slime, 
I 



2 THE GRAVE 

Lets fall a supernumerary horror, 
And only serves to make thy night more irksome ! 
Well do I know thee by thy trusty yew, 
Cheerless, unsocial plant ! that loves to dwell 
'Midst sculls and coffins, epitaphs and worms ; 
Where light-heel'd ghosts and visionary shades, 
Beneath the wan cold moon (as fame reports) 
Embodied thick, perform their mystic rounds. 
No other merriment, dull tree ! is thine. 

See yonder hallow'd fane ! the pious work 
Of names once fam'd, now dubious or forgot, 
And buried 'midst the wreck of things which were : 
There lie interr'd the more illustrious dead. 
The wind is up : hark how it howls ! Methinks 
Till now I never heard a sound so dreary. 
Doors creak, and windows clap, and night's foul 

bird, 
Rook'd in the spire, screams loud ! The gloomy 

ailes, 
Black plaister'd, and hung round with shreds of 

scutcheons 

And tatter'd coats of arms, send back the sound, 
Laden with heavier airs, from the low vaults, 
The mansions of the dead ! Rous'd from their 

slumbers, 

In grim array the grisly spectres rise, 
Grin horrible, and obstinately sullen 
Pass and repass, hush'd as the foot of night ! 



THE GRAVE 3 

Again the screech owl shrieks ungracious sound ! 
I'll hear no more ; it makes one's blood run chill. 

Quite round the pile, a row of rev'rend elms, 
Coeval near with that, all ragged shew, 
Long lash'd by the rude winds; some rift half 

down 

Their branchless trunks, others so thin a-top 
That scarce two crows could lodge in the same 

tree. 
Strange things, the neighbours say, have happen'd 

here. 

Wild shrieks have issu'd from the hollow tombs ; 
Dead men have come again, and walk'd about ; 
And the great bell has toll'd, unrung, untouch'd ! 
Such tales their cheer, at wake or gossiping, 
When it draws near the witching-time of night. 

Oft in the lone church-yard at night I've seen, 
By glimpse of moon-shine, chequ'ring through the 

trees, 

The school-boy, with his satchel in his hand, 
Whistling aloud to bear his courage up, 
And lightly tripping o'er the long flat stones 
(With nettles skirted, and with moss o'ergrown) 
That tell in homely phrase who lie below. 
Sudden he starts ! and hears, or thinks he hears, 
The sound of something purring at his heels. 
Full fast he flies, and dares not look behind him, 



4 THE GRAVE 

Till out of breath he overtakes his fellows ; 

Who gather round, and wonder at the tale 

Of horrid apparition, tall and ghastly, 

That walks at dead of night, or takes his stand 

O'er some new open'd grave; and, strange to 

tell, 
Evanishes at crowing of the cock ! 

The new - made widow too I've sometimes 



(Sad sight!) slow moving o'er the prostrate 

dead: 

Listless she crawls along in doleful black, 
While bursts of sorrow gush from either eye, 
Fast falling down her now untasted cheek. 
Prone on the lowly grave of the dear man 
She drops ; while busy meddling memory, 
In barbarous succession, musters up 
The past endearments of their softer hours, 
Tenacious of its theme. Still, still she thinks 
She sees him, and, indulging the fond thought, 
Clings yet more closely to the senseless turf, 
Nor heeds the passenger who looks that way. 

Invidious Grave! how dost thou rend in 

sunder 

Whom love has knit, and sympathy made one ! 
A tie more stubborn far than nature's band. 
Friendship ! mysterious cement of the soul ! 



THE GRAVE 5 

Sweet'ner of life ! and solder of society ! 

I owe thee much. Thou h^st deserv'd from 

me 

Far, far beyond what I can ever pay. 
Oft have I prov'd the labours of thy love, 
And the warm efforts of the gentle heart, 
Anxious to please. O ! when my friend and I 
In some thick wood have wander'd heedless on, 
Hid from the vulgar eye ; and sat us down 
Upon the sloping cowslip-cover'd bank, 
Where the pure limpid stream has slid along 
In^r^tefiiLexrctfs through the under-wood, 
Sweet murmuring ; methought the shrill-tongu'd 

thrush 

Mended his song of love ; the sooty blackbird 
Mellow'd his pipe, and soften'd every note ; 
The eglantine smell'd sweeter, and the rose 
Assum'd a dye more deep ; whilst every flower 
Vied with its fellow plant in luxury 
Of dress. O ! then the longest summer's day 
Seem'd too, too much in haste ; still the full 

heart ^ 

Had not imparted half: 'twas happiness 
Too exquisite to last ! Of joys departed, 
Not to return, how painful the remembrance ! 

Dull Grave ! thou spoil'st the dance of youthful 

blood, 
Strik'st out the dimple from the cheek of mirth, 



6 THE GRAVE 

And every smirking feature from the face ; 
Branding our laughter with the name of mad- 
ness. 

Where are the jesters now ? the men of health 
Complexionally pleasant ? Where the droll, 
Whose very look and gesture was a joke 
To clapping theatres and shouting crowds, 
And made e'en thick-lipp'd musing Melancholy 
To gather up her face into a smile 
Before she was aware ? Ah ! sullen now, 
And dumb as the green turf that covers them ! 

Where are the mighty thunderbolts of war, 
The Roman Cassars and the Grecian chiefs, 
The boast of story ? Where the hot - brain'd 

youth, 

Who the tiara at his pleasure tore 
From kings of all the then discover'd globe ; 
And cried, forsooth, because his arm was ham- 

per'd, 

And had not room enough to do it's work ? 
Alas, how slim dishonourably slim ! 
And cramm'd into a space we blush to name 
Proud royalty ! How alter'd in thy looks ! 
How blank thy features, and how wan thy 

hue! 

Son of the morning ! whither art thou gone ? 
Where hast thou hid thy many-spangled head, 
And the majestic menace of thine eyes, 



THE GRAVE 7 

Felt from afar ? Pliant and pow'rless now : 

Like new-born infant wound up in his 

swathes, 

Or victim tumbled flat upon his back, 
That throbs beneath the sacrificed knife ; 
Mute must thou bear the strife of little tongues, 
And coward insults of the base-born crowd, 
That grudge a privilege thou never hadst, 
But only hop'd for in the peaceful Grave 
Of being unmolested and alone ! 
Arabia's gums and odoriferous drugs, 
And honours by the herald duly paid 
In mode and form, e'en to a very scruple ; 
( O cruel irony ! ) these come too late ; 
And only mock whom they were meant to 

honour ! 

Surely there's not a dungeon slave that's buried 
In the highway, unshrouded and uncoffin'd, 
But lies as soft, and sleeps as sound, as he. 
Sorry pre-eminence of high descent 
Above the baser born, to rot in state ! 

But see ! the well-plum'd hearse comes nod- 
ding on, 

Stately and slow ; and properly attended 
By the whole sable tribe, that painful watch 
The sick man's door, and live upon the dead, 
By letting out their persons by the hour 
To mimic sorrow, when the heart's not sad ! 



8 THE GRAVE 

How rich the trappings, now they're all un- 

furl'd 

And glitt'ring in the sun ! Triumphant entries 
Of conquerors and coronation pomps 
In glory scarce exceed. Great gluts of people 
Retard th' unwieldy show ; whilst from the case- 
ments 
And houses' - tops, ranks behind ranks, close 

wedg'd, 

Hang bellying o'er. But tell us, why this waste ? 
Why this ado in earthing up a carcase 
That's falPn into disgrace, and in the nostril 
Smells horrible ? Ye undertakers ! tell us, 
'Midst all the gorgeous figures you exhibit, 
Why is the principal conceaPd for which 
You make this mighty stir ? 'Tis wisely done ; 
What would offend the eye in a good picture, 
The painter casts discreetly into shades. 

Proud lineage ! now how little thou appear'st ! 
Below the envy of the private man ! 
Honour, that meddlesome officious ill, 
Pursues thee e'en to death ! nor there stops 

short. 

Strange persecution ! when the Grave itself 
Is no protection from rude sufferance. 

Absurd ! to think to overreach the Grave, 
And from the wreck of names to rescue ours ! 



THE GRAVE 9 

The best concerted schemes men lay for fame 

Die fast away ; only themselves die faster. 

The far-fam'd sculptor, and the laurell'd bard, 

These bold insurancers of deathless fame, 

Supply their little feeble aids in vain. 

The tap'ring pyramid, th' Egyptian's pride, 

And wonder of the world ! whose spiky top 

Has wounded the thick cloud, and long out- 

liv'd 

The angry shaking of the winter's storm ; 
Yet, spent at last by th' injuries of Heaven, 
Shatter'd with age, and furrow'd o'er with years, 
The mystic cone, with hieroglyphics crusted, 
At once gives way. O lamentable sight ! 
The labour of whole ages lumbers down, 
A hideous and mis-shapen length of ruins ! 
Sepulchral columns wrestle but in vain 
With all-subduing Time : her cank'ring hand 
With calm deliberate malice wasteth them. 
Worn on the edge of days, the brass consumes, 
The busto moulders, and the deep cut marble, 
Unsteady to the steel, gives up it's charge ! 
Ambition, half convicted of her folly, 
Hangs down the head, and reddens at the tale ! 



Here all the mighty troublers of the earth, 
Who swam to sov' reign rule through seas of 
blood ; 



io THE GRAVE 

Th' oppressive, sturdy, man-destroying villains, 
Who ravag'd kingdoms, and laid empires waste, 
And in a cruel wantonness of power 
Thinn'd states of half their people, and gave up 
To want the rest ; now, like a storm that's spent, 
Lie hush'd, and meanly sneak behind the covert. 
Vain thought ! to hide them from the general 

scorn, 

That haunts and dogs them like an injur'd ghost 
Implacable ! Here too the petty tyrant, 
Whose scant domains geographer ne'er notic'd, 
And, well for neighboring grounds, of arm as 

short; 

Who fix'd his iron talons on the poor, 
And grip'd them like some lordly beast of prey, 
Deaf to the forceful cries of gnawing hunger, 
And piteous plaintive voice of misery 
(As if a slave were not a shred of nature, 
Of the same common nature with his lord) ; 
Now tame and humble, like a child that's 

whipp'd, 
Shakes hands with dust, and calls the worm his 

kinsman ! 

Nor pleads his rank and birthright. Under ground 
Precedency's a jest ; vassal and lord, 
Grossly familiar, side by side consume ! 

When self-esteem, or other's adulation, 
Would cunningly persuade us we were something 



THE GRAVE n 

Above the common level of our kind, 

The Grave gainsays the smooth-complexion'd 

flatt'ry, 

And with blunt truth acquaints us what we are. 
Beauty ! thou pretty plaything ! dear deceit ! 
That steals so softly o'er the stripling's heart, 
And gives it a new pulse unknown before ! 
The Grave discredits thee. Thy charms ex- 

pung'd, 

Thy roses faded, and thy lilies soil'd, 
What hast thou more to boast of? Will thy 

lovers 
Flock round thee now, to gaze and do thee 

homage ? 

Methinks I see thee with thy head low laid ; 
Whilst, surfeited upon thy damask cheek, 
The high fed worm, in lazy volumes roll'd, 
Riots unscar'd. For this was all thy caution ? 
For this thy painful labours at thy glass, 
T' improve those charms, and keep them in repair, 
For which the spoiler thanks thee not ? Foul 

feeder ! 

Coarse fare and carrion please thee full as well, 
And leave as keen a relish on the sense. 
Look, how the fair one weeps ! The conscious 

tears 

Stand thick as dew-drops on the bells of flowers : 
Honest effusion ! The swoln heart in vain 
Works hard to put a gloss on its distress. 



12 THE GRAVE 

Strength too ! thou surly, and less gentle boast 
Of those that loud laugh at the village ring ! 
A fit of common sickness pulls thee down 
With greater ease than e'er thou didst the stripling 
That rashly dar'd thee to th' unequal fight. 
What groan was that I heard ? Deep groan in- 
deed, 

With anguish heavy laden ! let me trace it : 
From yonder bed it comes, where the strong man, 
By stronger arm belabour'd, gasps for breath 
Like a hard hunted beast. How his great heart 
Beats thick ! his roomy chest by far too scant 
To give the lungs full play ! What now avail 
The strong-built sinewy limbs, and well spread 

shoulders ? 

See, how he tugs for life, and lays about him, 
Mad with his pain ! Eager he catches hold 
Of what comes next to hand, and grasps it hard, 
Just like a creature drowning ! Hideous sight ! 
O how his eyes stand out, and stare full ghastly ! 
While the distemper's rank and deadly venom 
Shoots like a burning arrow 'cross his bowels, 
And drinks his marrow up. Heard you that groan ! 
It was his last. See how the great Goliath, 
Just like a child that brawl'd itself to rest, 
Lies still ! What mean'st thou then, O mighty 

boaster, 

To vaunt of nerves of thine ? What means the 
bull, 



THE GRAVE 13 

Unconscious of his strength, to play the coward, 
And flee before a feeble thing like man ; 
That, knowing well the slackness of his arm, 
Trusts only in the well-invented knife ? 



With study pale, and midnight vigils spent, 
The star-surveying sage close to his eye 
Applies the sight-invigorating tube ; 
And, traveling through the boundless length of 

space, 

Marks well the courses of the far-seen orbs, 
That roll with regular confusion there, 
In ecstasy of thought. But ah ! proud man ! 
Great heights are hazardous to the weak head : 
Soon, very soon, thy firmest footing fails, 
And down thou dropp'st into that darksome place 
Where nor device nor knowledge ever came. 



Here the tongue-warrior lies ! disabled now, 
Disarm'd, dishonour'd, like a wretch that's 



And cannot tell his ails to passers-by ! 

Great man of language ! whence this mighty 

change, 

This dumb despair, and drooping of the head ? 
Though strong Persuasion hung upon thy lip, 
And sly Insinuation's softer arts 
In ambush lay about thy flowing tongue, 



i 4 THE GRAVE 

Alas, how chop-fall'n now ! thick mists and 

silence 

Rest, like a weary cloud, upon thy breast 
Unceasing. Ah ! where is the lifted arm, 
The strength of action, and the force of words, 
The well - turn'd period, and the well - tun'd 

voice, 

With all the lesser ornaments of phrase ? 
Ah ! fled for ever, as they ne'er had been ! 
Raz'd from the book of fame ; or, more pro- 
voking, 

Perchance some hackney hunger-bitten scribbler 
Insults thy memory, and blots thy tomb 
With long flat narrative, or duller rhimes, 
With heavy halting pace that drawl along 
Enough to rouse a dead man into rage, 
And warm, with red resentment, the wan cheek ! 

Here the great masters of the healing art, 
These mighty mock-defrauders of the tomb, 
Spite of their juleps and catholicons, 
Resign to fate ! Proud jEsculapius' son, 
Where are thy boasted implements of art, 
And all thy well-cramm'd magazines of health ? 
Nor hill, nor vale, as far as ship could go, 
Nor margin of the gravel-bottom'd brook, 
Escap'd thy rifling hand ! From stubborn 

shrubs 
Thou wrung'st their shy retiring virtues out, 



THE GRAVE 15 

And vex'd them in the fire. Nor fly, nor insect, 
Nor writhy snake, escap'd thy deep research ! 
But why this apparatus ? why this cost ? 
Tell us, thou doughty keeper from the grave, 
Where are thy recipes and cordials now, 
With the long list of vouchers for thy cures ? 
Alas, thou speak'st not. The bold impostor 
Looks not more silly when the cheat's found 
out. 

Here the lank-sided miser, worst of felons, 
Who meanly stole (discreditable shift) 
From back and belly too their proper cheer, 
Eas'd of a tax it irk'd the wretch to pay 
To his own carcase, now lies cheaply lodg'd, 
By clam'rous appetites no longer teas'd, 
Nor tedious bills of charges and repairs. 
But ah ! where are his rents, his comings in ? 
Aye, now you've made the rich man poor in- 
deed ! 

Robb'd of his gods, what has he left behind ? 
O cursed lust of gold, when for thy sake 
The fool throws up his interest in both worlds, 
First starv'd in this, then damn'd in that to 
come ! 

How shocking must thy summons be, O 

Death, 
To him that is at ease in his possessions, 



16 THE GRAVE 

Who, counting on long years of pleasure here, 
Is quite unfurnish'd for that world to come ! 
In that dread moment how the frantic soul 
Raves round the walls of her clay tenement, 
Runs to each avenue, and shrieks for help, 
But shrieks in vain ! How wishfully she looks 
On all she's leaving, now no longer hers ! 
A little longer, yet a little longer, 
O might she stay to wash away her stains, 
And fit her for her passage ! mournful sight ! 
Her very eyes weep blood, and every groan 
She heaves is big with horror ! But the foe, 
Like a stanch murd'rer steady to his pur- 
pose, 

Pursues her close through every lane of life, 
Nor misses once the track, but presses on ; 
Till, forc'd at last to the tremendous verge, 
At once she sinks to everlasting ruin ! 



Sure 'tis a serious thing to die ! My soul, 
What a strange moment must it be when, near 
Thy journey's end, thou hast the gulph in 

view ! 

That awful gulph no mortal e'er repass'd 
To tell what's doing on the other side ! 
Nature runs back and shudders at the sight, 
And every life - string bleeds at thoughts of 

parting ! 



THE GRAVE 17 

For part they must body and soul must part ! 
Fond couple ! link'd more close than wedded pair. 
This wings its way to its Almighty Source, 
The witness of its actions, now its judge ; 
That drops into the dark and noisome grave, 
Like a disabled pitcher of no use. 

If death were nothing, and nought after 

death ; 

If when men died at once they ceas'd to be, 
Returning to the barren womb of nothing, 
Whence first they sprung ; then might the debauchee 
Untrembling mouth the Heavens ; then might the 

drunkard 

Reel over his full bowl, and when 'tis drain'd 
Fill up another to the brim, and laugh 
At the poor bugbear Death ; then might the 

wretch 

That's weary of the world, and tir'd of life, 
At once give each inquietude the slip, 
By stealing out of being when he pleas'd, 
And by what way, whether by hemp or steel : 
Death's thousand doors stand open. Who could 

force 

The ill-pleas'd guest to sit out his full time, 
Or blame him if he goes ? Sure he does well 
That helps himself as timely as he can, 
When able. But, if there's an hereafter 
And that there is, conscience, uninfluenc'd 

2 



i8 THE GRAVE 

And suffer' d to speak out, tells every man 

Then must it be an awful thing to die ; 

More horrid yet to die by one's own hand ! 

Self-murder ! Name it not ; our island's shame ; 

That makes her the reproach of neighb'ring 
states. 

Shall nature, swerving from her earliest dictate, 

Self-preservation, fall by her own act ? 

Forbid it, Heaven ! Let not, upon disgust, 

The shameless hand be fully crimson'd o'er 

With blood of its own lord ! Dreadful attempt, 

Just reeking from self-slaughter, in a rage 

To rush into the presence of our Judge ! 

As if we challeng'd him to do his worst, 

And matter'd not his wrath. Unheard-of tor- 
tures 

Must be reserv'd for such : these herd together ; 

The common damn'd shun their society, 

And look upon themselves as fiends less foul. 

Our time is fix'd, and all our days are number'd ! 

How long, how short, we know not: this we 
know, 

Duty requires we calmly wait the summons, 

Nor dare to stir till Heaven shall give per- 4 
mission : 

Like sentries that must keep their destin'd stand, 

And wait th' appointed hour till they're re- 
liev'd. 

Those only are the brave that keep their ground, 



THE GRAVE 19 

And keep it to the last. To run away 
Is but a coward's trick : to run away 
From this world's ills, that at the very worst 
Will soon blow o'er, thinking to mend ourselves 
By boldly venturing on a world unknown, 
And plunging headlong in the dark 'tis mad ! 
No frenzy half so desperate as this. 



Tell us, ye dead ! will none of you in pity 
To those you left behind disclose the secret ? 
O ! that some courteous ghost would blab it 

out 

What 'tis you are, and we must shortly be. 
I've heard that souls departed have sometimes 
Forewarn'd men of their death. 'Twas kindly 

done 

To knock and give th' alarm. But what means 
This stinted chanty ? 'Tis but lame kindness 
That does its work by halves. Why might you 

not 

Tell us what 'tis to die ? Do the strict laws 
Of your society forbid your speaking 
Upon a point so nice ? I'll ask no more. 
Sullen, like lamps in sepulchres, your shine 
Enlightens but yourselves. Well 'tis no 

matter : 

A very little time will clear up all, 
And make us learn'd as you are, and as close. 



20 THE GRAVE 

Death's shafts fly thick. Here falls the village 

swain, 
And there his pamper'd lord ! The cup goes 

round, 

And who so artful as to put it by ? 
'Tis long since death had the majority, 
Yet, strange, the living lay it not to heart ! 
See yonder maker of the dead man's bed, 
The sexton, hoary-headed chronicle ! 
Of hard unmeaning face, down which ne'er stole 
A gentle tear ; with mattock in his hand 
Digs through whole rows of kindred and acquaint- 
ance, 

By far his juniors ! Scarce a scull's cast up 
But well he knew its owner, and can tell 
Some passage of his life. Thus hand in hand 
The sot has walk'd with Death twice twenty years ; 
And yet ne'er younker on the green laughs louder, 
Or clubs a smuttier tale : when drunkards meet, 
None sings a merrier catch, or lends a hand 
More willing to his cup. Poor wretch ! he minds 

not 

That soon some trusty brother of the trade 
Shall do for him what he has done for thousands. 

On this side, and on that, men see their friends 
Drop off, like leaves in Autumn ; yet launch out 
Into fantastic schemes, which the long livers 
In the world's hale and undegenerate days 



THE GRAVE 21 

Could scarce have leisure for ; fools that we 



are 



Never to think of Death and of ourselves 

At the same time ! as if to learn to die 

Were no concern of ours. O more than sottish ! 

For creatures of a day in gamesome mood 

To frolic on eternity's dread brink, 

Unapprehensive ; when, for aught we know, 

The very first swoln surge shall sweep us in ! 

Think we, or think we not, time hurries on 

With a resistless unremitting stream, 

Yet treads more soft than e'er did midnight 

thief, 

That slides his hand under the miser's pillow, 
And carries off his prize. What is this world ? 
What but a spacious burial-field unwall'd, 
Strew'd with Death's spoils, the spoils of animals 
Savage and tame, and full of dead men's bones ! 
The very turf on which we tread once liv'd ; 
And we that live must lend our carcases 
To cover our own offspring : in their turns 
They too must cover their's. 'Tis here all 

meet ! 

The shiv'ring Icelander and sun-burnt Moor ; 
Men of all climes, that never met before, 
And of all creeds, the Jew, the Turk, the 

Christian. 

Here the proud prince, and favourite yet prouder, 
His sov'reign's keeper, and the people's scourge 



22 THE GRAVE 

Are huddled out of sight ! Here lie abash'd 

The great negotiators of the earth, 

And celebrated masters of the balance, 

Deep read in stratagems and wiles of courts. 

Now vain their treaty - skill ; Death scorns to 

treat. 

Here the overloaded slave flings down his burden 
From his gall'd shoulders ; and, when the stern 

tyrant, 

With all his guards and tools of power about him, 
Is meditating new unheard-of hardships, 
Mocks his short arm, and quick as thought 

escapes, 

Where tyrants vex not, and the weary rest. 
Here the warm lover, leaving the cool shade, 
The tell-tale echo, and the babbling stream, 
Time out of mind the fav'rite seats of love, 
Fast by his gentle mistress lays him down, 
Unblasted by foul tongue. Here friends and 

foes 

Lie close, unmindful of their former feuds. 
The lawn-rob'd prelate and plain presbyter, 
Erewhile that stood aloof, as shy to meet, 
Familiar mingle here, like sister-streams 
That some rude interposing rock has split. 
Here is the large-limb'd peasant ; here the child 
Of a span long, that never saw the sun, 
Nor press'd the nipple, strangled in life's porch. 
Here is the mother with her sons and daughters ; 



THE GRAVE 23 

The barren wife ; and long-demurring maid, 

Whose lonely unappropriated sweets 

Smil'd like yon knot of cowslips on the cliff, 

Not to be come at by the willing hand. 

Here are the prude severe, and gay coquette, 

The sober widow, and the young green virgin, 

Cropp'd like a rose before 'tis fully blown, 

Or half its worth disclos'd. Strange medley 

here ! 

Here garrulous old age winds up his tale ; 
And jovial youth, of lightsome vacant heart, 
Whose every day was made of melody, 
Hears not the voice of mirth ; the shrill-tongu'd 

shrew, 

Meek as the turtle-dove, forgets her chiding. 
Here are the wise, the generous, and the brave ; 
The just, the good, the worthless, and profane ; 
The downright clown, and perfectly well-bred ; 
The fool, the churl, the scoundrel, and the 

mean; 

The supple statesman, and the patriot stern ; 
The wrecks of nations and the spoils of time, 
With all the lumber of six thousand years ! 

Poor man ! how happy once in thy first state, 
When yet but warm from thy great Maker's hand 
He stamp'd thee with his image, and well pleas'd, 
Smil'd on his last fair work ! Then all was 
well. 



24 THE GRAVE 

Sound was the body, and the soul serene ; 
Like two sweet instruments, ne'er out of tune, 
That play their several parts. Nor head nor 

heart 

Offer'd to ache ; nor was there cause they should, 
For all was pure within. No fell remorse, 
Nor anxious castings up of what might be, 
Alarm'd his peaceful bosom. Summer seas 
Shew not more smooth when kiss'd by southern 

winds, 

Just ready to expire. Scarce importun'd, 
The generous soil with a luxurious hand 
Offer'd the various produce of the year, 
And every thing most perfect in it's kind. 
Blessed, thrice blessed days ! But ah, how 

short ! 

Bless'd as the pleasing dreams of holy men ; 
But fugitive, like those, and quickly gone. 
O slipp'ry state of things ! What sudden turns, 
What strange vicissitudes, in the first leaf 
Of man's sad history ! To-day most happy, 
And ere to-morrow's sun has set most abject ! 
How scant the space between these vast ex- 
tremes ! 

Thus far'd it with our sire ; not long h' enjoyed 
His Paradise ! Scarce had the happy tenant 
Of the fair spot due time to prove its sweets, 
Or sum them up, when straight he must be gone, 
Ne'er to return again ! And must he go ? 



THE GRAVE 25 

Can nought compound for the first dire offence 

Of erring man? Like one that is condemn'd, 

Fain would he trifle time wjth idle talk, 

And parley with his fate. But 'tis in vain. 

Not all the lavish odours of the place, 

Offer'd in incense, can procure his pardon, 

Or mitigate his doom. A mighty angel 

With flaming sword forbids his longer stay, 

And drives the loit'rer forth ; nor must he 

take 

One last and farewell round. At once he lost 
His glory and his God ! If mortal now, 
And sorely maim'd, no wonder Man has 

sinn'd ! 

Sick of his bliss, and bent on new adventures, 
Evil he would needs try ; nor tried in vain. 
Dreadful experiment destructive measure 
Where the worst thing could happen, is suc- 
cess ! 

Alas ! too well he sped ; the good he scorn'd 
Stalk'd off reluctant, like an ill-us'd ghost, 
Not to return ; or, if it did, it's visits, 
Like those of angels, short, and far between: 
Whilst the black demon, with his hell-scap'd 

train, 

Admitted once into its better room, 
Grew loud and mutinous, nor would be gone ; 
Lording it o'er the man, who now too late 
Saw the rash error which he could not mend ; 



26 THE GRAVE 

An error fatal not to him alone, 

But to his future sons, his fortune's heirs. 

Inglorious bondage ! human nature groans 

Beneath a vassalage so vile and cruel, 

And it's vast body bleeds through every vein. 

What havock hast thou made, foul monster, 

sin ! 

Greatest and first of ills ! the fruitful parent 
Of woes of all dimensions ! But for thee 
Sorrow had never been. All-noxious thing, 
Of vilest nature ! Other sorts of evils 
Are kindly circumscrib'd, and have their bounds. 
The fierce volcano, from his burning entrails 
That belches molten stone and globes of fire, 
Involv'd in pitchy clouds of smoke and stench, 
Mars the adjacent fields for some leagues round, 
And there it stops. The big-swoln inundation, 
Of mischief more diffusive, raving loud, 
Buries whole tracts of country, threatening more : 
But that too has it's shore it cannot pass. 
More dreadful far than those, sin has laid 

waste, 

Not here and there a country, but a world ; 
Dispatching at a wide extended blow 
Entire mankind, and for their sakes defacing 
A whole creation's beauty with rude hands ; 
Blasting the foodful grain, and loaded branches, 
And marking all along it's way with ruin ! 



THE GRAVE 27 

Accursed thing ! O where shall fancy find 

A proper name to call thee by, expressive 

Of all thy horrors ? Pregnant womb of ills ! 

Of temper so transcendently malign, 

That toads and serpents of most deadly kind 

Compar'd to thee are harmless ! Sicknesses, 

Of every size and symptom, racking pains, 

And bluest plagues, are thine ! See how the 

fiend 

Profusely scatters the contagion round ! 
Whilst deep-mouth'd Slaughter, bellowing at her 

heels, 

Wades deep in blood new-spilt ; yet for to- 
morrow 

Shapes out new work of great uncommon daring, 
And inly pines till the dread blow is struck. 

But hold ! I've gone too far; too much dis- 

cover'd 

My father's nakedness and nature's shame. 
Here let me pause, and drop an honest tear, 
One burst of filial duty and condolence, 
O'er all those ample deserts Death hath spread, 
This chaos of mankind ! O great man-eater ! 
Whose every day is carnival, not sated yet ! 
Unheard-of epicure, without a fellow ! 
The veriest gluttons do not always cram ; 
Some intervals of abstinence are sought 
To edge the appetite ; thou seekest none ! 



28 THE GRAVE 

Methinks the countless swarms thou hast de- 

vour'd, 

And thousands that each hour thou gobblest up, 
This, less than this, might gorge thee to the full. 
But ah ! rapacious still, thou gap'st for more ; 
Like one, whole days defrauded of his meals, 
On whom lank Hunger lays her skinny hand, 
And whets to keenest eagerness his cravings : 
As if Diseases, Massacres, and Poison, 
Famine and War, were not thy caterers ! 

But know that thou must render up the 

dead, 

And with high interest too ! they are not thine ; 
But only in thy keeping for a season, 
Till the great promis'd day of restitution, 
When loud diffusive sound from brazen trump 
Of strong-lung'd cherub shall alarm thy captives, 
And rouse the long, long sleepers into life, 
Daylight, and liberty. 
Then must thy doors fly open, and reveal 
The minds that lay long forming under ground, 
In their dark cells immur'd ; but now full ripe, 
And pure as silver from the crucible, 
That twice has stood the torture of the fire, 
And inquisition of the forge. We know 
Th' illustrious Deliverer of mankind, 
The Son of God, thee foil'd. Him in thy 

power 



THE GRAVE 29 

Thou could'st not hold ; self-vigorous he rose, 

And shaking off thy fetters, soon retook 

Those spoils his voluntary yielding lent : 

( Sure pledge of our releasement from thy thrall ! ) 

Twice twenty days he sojourn'd here on earth, 

And shew'd himself alive to chosen witnesses, 

By proofs so strong, that the most slow assenting 

Had not a scruple left. This having done, 

He mounted up to Heaven. Methinks I see 

him 

Climb th' aerial heights, and glide along 
Athwart the severing clouds : but the faint eye, 
Flung backwards in the chase, soon drops it's 

hold, 

Disabled quite, and jaded with pursuing. 
Heaven's portals wide expand to let him in ; 
Nor are his friends shut out : as a great prince 
Not for himself alone procures admission, 
But for his train ; it was his royal will, 
That where he is there should his followers 

be. 

Death only lies between, a gloomy path ! 
Made yet more gloomy by our coward fears ! 
But nor untrod, nor tedious : the fatigue 
Will soon go off. Besides, there's no bye-road 
To bliss. Then why, like ill-condition'd children, 
Start we at transient hardships in the way 
That leads to purer air and softer skies, 
And a ne'er-setting sun ? Fools that we are ! 



30 THE GRAVE 

We wish to be where sweets imwith'ring bloom ; 

But straight our wish revoke, and will not go. 

So have I seen, upon a summer's ev'n, 

Fast by the riv'let's brink, a youngster play : 

How wishfully he looks to stem the tide ! 

This moment resolute, next unresolv'd, 

At last he dips his foot ; but, as he dips, \ 

His fears redouble, and he runs away 

From th' inoffensive stream, unmindful now 

Of all the flowers that paint the further bank, 

And smiPd so sweet of late. Thrice welcome 

Death ! 

That, after many a painful bleeding step, 
Conducts us to our home, and lands us safe 
On the long - wish'd - for shore. Prodigious 

change ! 

Our bane turn'd to a blessing ! Death disarmed 
Loses its fellness quite ; all thanks to him 
Who scourg'd the venom out ! Sure the last end 
Of the good man is peace. How calm his exit ! 
Night-dews fall not more gently to the ground, 
Nor weary worn-out winds expire so soft. 
Behold him in the ev'ning tide of life, 
A life well spent, whose early care it was 
His riper years should not upbraid his green : 
By unperceiv'd degrees he wears away ; 
Yet like the sun seems larger at his setting ! 
High in his faith and hopes, look how he 

reaches 



> 




THE GRAVE 31 

After the prize in view ! and, like a bird 
That's hamper'd, struggles hard to get away ! 
Whilst the glad gates of sight are wide ex- 
panded 

To let new glories in, the first fair fruits 
Of the fast-coming harvest ! Then O then 
Each earth-born joy grows vile, or disappears, 
Shrunk to a thing of nought ! O how he longs 
To have his passport sign'd, and be dismissed ! 
'Tis done and now he's happy! The glad 

soul 

Has not a wish uncrown'd. E'en the lag flesh 
Rests too in hope of meeting once again 
It's better half, never to sunder more. 
Nor shall it hope in vain : the time draws on 
When not a single spot of burial-earth, 
Whether on land or in the spacious sea, 
But must give back it's long committed dust 
Inviolate : and faithfully shall these 
Make up the full account ; not the least atom 
Embezzled, or mislaid, of the whole tale ! 
Each soul shall have a body ready furnish'd ; 
And each shall have his own. Hence, ye profane ! 
Ask not how this can be? Sure the same 

power 

That rear'd the piece at first, and took it down, 
Can reassemble the loose scatter'd parts, 
And put them as they were. Almighty God 
Has done much more ; nor is his arm impair'd 



32 THE GRAVE 

Through length of days ; and what he can he 

will: 

His faithfulness stands bound to see it done. 
When the dread trumpet sounds, the slumb'ring 

dust, 

Not unattentive to the call, shall wake ; 
And every joint possess its proper place, 
With a new elegance of form, unknown 
To its first state. Nor shall the conscious soul 
Mistake it's partner ; but, amidst the crowd 
Singling it's other half, into it's arms 
Shall rush, with all th' impatience of a man 
That's new come home, and, having long been 

absent, 

With haste runs over every different room, 
In pain to see the whole. Thrice happy meeting ! 
Nor time, nor death, shall ever part them more ! 

'Tis but a night, a long and moonless night ; 
We make the grave our bed, and then are gone ! 

Thus at the shut of ev'n, the weary bird 
Leaves the wide air, and in some lonely brake 
Cow'rs down, and dozes till the dawn of day ; 
Then claps his well-fledg'd wings, and bears away. 



THE END. 



OF THE DESIGNS 

By the arrangement here made, the regular progression 
of Man, from his first descent into the Vale of 
Death, to his last admission into Life eternal, is 
exhibited. These Designs, detached from the 
Work they embellish, form of themselves a most 
interesting Poem. 

I. THE DESCENT OF CHRIST INTO 
THE GRAVE. 

" Eternal King, whose potent arm sustains 
The keys of Death and Hell ! " 

II. THE DESCENT OF MAN INTO 
THE VALE OF DEATH. 

The pious daughter weeping and conducting her 
sire onward ; age, creeping carefully on hands and 
knees ; an elder, without friend or kindred ; a 
miser ; a bachelor, blindly proceeding, no one 
knows where, ready to drop into the dark abyss ; 
frantic youth rashly devoted to vice and passion, 
rushing past the diseased and old, who totters on 
crutches ; the wan declining virgin ; the miserable 
and distracted widow ; the hale country youth ; 
and the mother and her numerous progeny, already 
3 



34 OF THE DESIGNS 

arrived in this valley, are among the groups which 
speak irresistibly to the feelings. 

III. DEATH'S DOOR. 
The Door opening, that seems to make utter 
darkness visible ; age, on crutches, hurried by a 
tempest into it. Above is the renovated man 
seated in light and glory. 

IV. THE STRONG AND WICKED 
MAN DYING. 

Extent of limb, a broad capacious chest, heaving 
in agony, and prodigious muscular force, so exerted 
as to pourtray the excruciating torments of mind and 
body, all contribute to give a fearful picture of the 
Strong and Wicked Man in the pangs of Death. 
His masculine soul is hurried through the casement 
in flame, while his daughter hides her face with 
horror not to be resisted, and his frantic wife rushes 
forward, as if resolved to 'share his fate. 

V. THE GOOD OLD MAN DYING. 

Never perhaps were two subjects more happily 
conceived, and beautifully contrasted, than this and 
the former. In that all is confusion, hurry, and 
terror ; in this are perfect repose, beatic hope, 
and heavenly consolation. Peace in his coun- 
tenance, his hand on the gospel, his soul devoutly 
ascending to eternal bliss, his affectionate children, 



OF THE DESIGNS 35 

some in prayer, others believing, or at least 
anxiously hoping, that he still lives ; all denote 
how great is the happiness of the Good Man in 
the Hour of Death. 

VI. THE SOUL HOVERING OVER 

THE BODY. 

" How wishfully she looks 
On all she's leaving, now no longer hej^jL.! " 

VII. THE SOUL EXPLORING THE 
RECESSES OF THE GRAVE. 

The Soul, prior to the dissolution of the Body, 
exploring through and beyond the tomb, and there 
discovering the emblems of mortality and of im- 
mortality. 

VIII. THE COUNSELLOR, KING, 
WARRIOR, MOTHER, AND CHILD. 
All are egual in the Grave. Wisdom, Power, 
Valour, Beauty, and Innocence, at the hour of 
death, alike are impotent and unavailing. 

IX. THE SKELETON RE-ANIMATED. 

" When the dread trumpet sounds, the slumb'ring dust, 
Not unattentive to the call, awakes " ; 

while the world in flames typifies the renovation of 
all things, the end of Time, and the beginning of 
Eternity. 



36 OF THE DESIGNS 

X. THE RE-UNION OF SOUL 

AND BODY. 

The Body springs from the grave, the Soul 
descends from an opening cloud ; they rush to- 
gether with inconceivable energy ; they meet, never 
again to part ! 

XI. A FAMILY MEETING IN 

HEAVEN. 

The sweet felicity, the endearing tenderness, the 
ineffable affection, that are here depicted, are suffi- 
ciently obvious. The Husband clasps the Wife ; 
the Children embrace ; the Boy recognises and 
eagerly springs to his Father. 

XII. THE LAST JUDGMENT. 
Christ coming to judgment in the clouds of 

heaven, with the " Thrones set, and the Books 
opened." On his knees lies the Book of Life. 
The Recording Angels kneel on each side of his 
throne, and the Elders are also seated on each side 
of Him to judge the world. Surrounding the 
throne are the blessed, entering into their joy ; and 
arising from these, on each hand, are two clouds of 
figures : one with the insignia of Baptism ; the 
other with the insignia of the Lord's Supper, 
inclosing a glorification of angels, with harps. 
Beneath, on the right hand of Christ, are the 



OF THE DESIGNS 37 

blessed, rising in the air to judgment ; on the left 
hand are the cursed : Some are precipitating them- 
selves from the face of Him that sitteth on the 
Throne (among them is Satan, wound round with 
the Serpent), others are pleading their own right- 
eousness, and others, beneath, fleeing with banners 
and spears among the rocks, crying to the " rocks 
to cover them." Beneath these are represented 
the harlot's mystery, and the dragon, who flee 
before the face of the Judge. In the centre, 
standing on the midst of the earth, is the angel with 
the last trumpet. On each side of him is an angel : 
that on the left is drawing his sword on the wicked ; 
that on the right is sheathing his sword on the just, 
who are rising in various groups, with joy and 
affection, family by family. The angel with the 
trumpet, and his accompanying ministers of judg- 
ment, are surrounded by a column of flame, which 
spreads itself in various directions over the earth, 
from which the dead are bursting forth, some in 
terror, some in joy. On the opening cloud, on 
each hand of Christ, are two figures, supporting the 
books of remembrance : that over the just is beheld 
with humiliation ; that over the wicked with arro- 
gance. A sea of fire issues from beneath the 
throne of Christ, destructive to the wicked, but 
salutary to the righteous. Before the sea of Fire 
the clouds are rolled back, and the heavens " are 
rolled together as a scroll." 



IN kindly thanking those Ladies and Gentlemen who have so liberally 
patronized and befriended the present Work, Mr. CROMEK begs to inform 
them, that he is the owner of the celebrated Cabinet Picture, painted by 
Mr. STOTHARD, representing THE PROCESSION OF CHAUCER'S PIL- 
GRIMS TO CANTERBURY. 

He begs to announce his intention of publishing an Engraving from 
this interesting composition as speedily as is consistent with the time 
necessarily required in the execution of so magnificent an undertaking, 
and respectfully submits to his Subscribers, and to other Amateurs of fine 
Art, the following Prospectus. 



UNDER THE IMMEDIATE PATRONAGE OF 

HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCE OF WALES. 

THE 

PROCESSION 

OF 

CHAUCER'S PILGRIMS 

TO 

CANTERBURY. 



PROPOSALS FOR PUBLISHING, BY SUBSCRIPTION, 

A PRINT, 

FROM THE WELL-KNOWN CABINET PICTURE 
ON THAT SUBJECT, 

By THOMAS STOTHARD, ES^ R.A. 



TO BE EXECUTED IN THE LINE MANNER OF ENGRAVING, 

AND IN THE SAME EXCELLENT STYLE AS THE 

PORTRAIT OF MR. WILLIAM BLAKE, 

PREFIXED TO THIS WORK, 

By LOUIS SCHIA rONETTl, Esq., V.A. 

THE GENTLEMAN WHO HAS ETCHED THE PRINTS THAT AT ONCE 

ILLUSTRATE AND EMBELLISH THE PRESENT VOLUME. 

38 



PROSPECTUS 

"Dan Chaucer grete him well" 

THE reputation of Chaucer, the reformer of the 
English language, and the father of English 
poetry, may, without presumption, be thought to justify 
the Proprietor in presenting the Public with a work 
designed to bring together, in one point of view, and to 
represent, in their true forms, living features, and adven- 
titious appendages, all the characters of the Canterbury 
Tales. These Tales are the most pleasing of Chaucer's 
Works. It is the characters which are described in the 
general Prologue to them which Mr. Stothard has now 
transferred to the Canvas ; and with so much truth and 
sprightliness, and in a manner so agreeable, that the 
Poet's humour may, with truth, be said to be revived in 
the Painter. 

It is the particular merit of this Piece, that the Story is 
immediately brought home to the Spectator. He becomes 
instantly one of the group, and sees them move before 
him, marked by their distinctive habits, characters, and 
sensations, in the same manner as Chaucer has drawn 
them. The idea of the Poet is impressed at the first 
view, a humour unforced, agreeable, and comic ; a 
pleasurable Tour, sanctijied by the name of Pilgrimage. The 
covert ridicule on these eccentric excursions, which 
Chaucer intended, is very happily preserved in his Face; 
the quiet indifference of one of the Monks, the hypocrisy 
of another, and the real piety of a third, are with equal 
excellency pourtrayed. The gay levity of the Wife of 
39 



4 o PROSPECTUS 

Bath, and the countenance of the old Ploughman, worn 
down with age and labour, are finely rendered. The 
Miller is an admirable character ; and his Horse is as 
much in character as himself. The Fop of Chaucer's Age 
is exhibited as making a display of his riding ; and the 
Sea Captain bestrides his Nag with the usual awkwardness 
of the Sailor. The pale and studious countenance of the 
Oxford Scholar ; the stateliness of the Lady Abbess ; the 
facetiousness and homely humour of the Host, as con- 
trasted with the Serjeant at Law, and the Doctor of 
Physic; all these peculiarities of character are very 
finely and delicately expressed. The costume of each 
Person is correct with an antiquarian exactness ; : and 
the whole group is so well distributed that each character 
is sufficiently seen, and in his due place. 

The Scene of the Picture is laid in that part of the 
road to Canterbury which commands a view of the Dul- 
wich Hills the Time, a beautiful and serene May 
Morning. The Pilgrims are grouped with a decorum 
suited to their respective characters, and in the order in 
which we may suppose Chaucer himself to have seen 
them, headed by the Miller, playing upon his pipe, 
under the guidance of Harry Baillle, the Host ; who, as 
Master of the Ceremonies, is represented standing in his 
stirrups, in the act of commanding attention to the pro- 
posal he is about to make, of drawing lots to determine 
which of the company shall tell the first Tale. Near to 

1 Mr, Douce, in his admirable " Illustrations of 'Shakespeare, and 
of Ancient Manners," speaking of the zeal which manifests itself 
among the leading Artists of the present day to obtain correct 
notions of the manners of former times whenever they have occasion 
to depict them, observes, that "Mr. Stothard, with every claim to 
superior talent, has recently finished a Painting of the Procession 
of Chaucer's Canterbury Pilgrims, which may be classed among 
the choicest morsels of its kind. The attention to accuracy of 
costume which it displays has never been exceeded, and but very 
seldom so well directed." Vol. ii. p. 285. 



PROSPECTUS 41 

him is a line of five characters the Knight; the Franklin, 
or Country Gentleman ; the Serjeant at Laiv ; the Merchant ; 
and the Doctor of Physic. The Young Squire is mounted on 
a White Horse near the Knight, and betwixt these two 
figures is seen the Reve, or Steward. Close behind the 
Squire, his Teaman advances, habited in green. The 
front of the next Group is also composed of five charac- 
ters The Lady Abbess ; her Nun ; the Nun's Priest ; the Good 
Parson; and his Brother, the Ploughman. The figures 
immediately behind the Lady Abbess are, the Shipman ; the 
Oxford Scholar ; the Manciple ; and Chaucer himself. 1 Next, 
mounted upon an ambling Nag, approaches the Wife of 
Bath, heading a group of four figures : She is represented 
in brisk conversation with the Monk and the Friar ; behind 
them are the Pardoner, dressed in blue, and his friend the 
Sompnour, in white. 

The last group of this motley Cavalcade is composed 
of the Goldsmith, the Weaver, the Haberdasher, the Dyer, and 
the Tapestry Merchant, all citizens of London, attended by 
their Cook : with these jolly Pilgrims the Procession 
closes. 

In justice to the subject before us, the Painter ought 
to possess all the powers of description and embellish- 
ment ; all the satire, the genuine humour, the knowledge 
of life and manners, for each of which the original is so 
eminently distinguished. The Proprietor of this under- 
taking finds it difficult to express his own and the general 
sense of Mr. Stothard's qualifications, without violating 
that admirable Artist's known reserve and modesty of 
nature. He cannot, however, resist the gratification of 
transcribing a letter which appeared in the periodical 
paper called " The Artist," addressed to Richard Cumber- 
land, Esq., the celebrated Dramatic Writer, by Mr. 

1 The Portrait of Chaucer is painted from that in the British 
Museum, done by Thomas Occleve, who lived in his time, and was 
his scholar, 



42 PROSPECTUS 

Hoppner, a gentleman who is himself of the first emi- 
nence in his professional capacity of an Historical and 
Portrait Painter. 



TO RICHARD CUMBERLAND, ESQ. 

May 30, 1807. 

Dear Sir, Tou desire me to give you some account of the 
Procession of Chaucer's Pilgrims, fainted by Stothard, and the 
task is a pleasant one ; for the praise called forth by the merits of 
a living artist, from a rival in the pursuit of fame , is, I feel 
like mercy , twice blessed 

"It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes." 

The Painter has chosen that moment for his Picture ivhen the 
Pilgrims may be supposed to have disengaged themselves from the 
multitude that bustle in the environs of a great metropolis, and are 
collected together by Harry Baillie, their guide and host. The 
scene is therefore laid in that part of their road from London that 
commands a vieiu of the Dul-wich hills, -where, it may be sup- 
posed, the Host could, -without fear of interruption, proclaim his 
proposal of dra-wing lots, to determine -who should tell the first 
tale. He is represented standing in his stirrups, and appears to 
exult in the plan he has formed for their mutual entertainment. 
You see the group gently pacing for-ward, all are in motion, 
yet too -well satisfied -with each other to be eager for their jour- 
ney 1 s end. The features of each individual are touched -with the 
most happy discrimination of character, and prove the Painter to 
have studied the human heart -with as much attention, and not 
less successfully, than the Poet. 

This intelligent group is rendered still more interesting by the 
charm of colouring, -which, though simple, is strong, and most 
harmoniously distributed throughout the picture. The landscape 
has a deep-toned brightness, that accords most admirably -with the 
figures : and the painter has ingeniously contrived to give a value 



PROSPECTUS 43 

to a common scene and "very ordinary forms, that ivould hardly be 
found, by unlearned eyes, in the natural objects. He has ex- 
pressed too, -with great vivacity and truth, the freshness of 
morning, at that season, "when Nature herself is most fresh and 
blooming the Spring ; and it requires no great stretch of fancy 
to imagine ive perceive the influence of it on the cheeks of the Fair 
JVife of Bath, and her rosy companions, the Monk and Friar. 

In respect of the execution of the "various parts of this pleasing 
design, it is not too much praise to say, that it is "wholly free from 
that vice "which painters term manner ; and it has this peculiarity 
beside, "which I do not remember to have seen in any picture 
ancient or modern, that it bears no mark of the period in ivhich it 
was painted, but might very "well pass for the "work of some able 
artist of the time of Chaucer. This effect is not, I believe, the 
result of any association of ideas connected with the costume, but 
appears in a primitive simplicity, and the total absence of all 
affectation, either of colour or pencilling. 

Having attempted to describe a fetv of the beauties of this 
captivating performance, it remains only for me to mention one 
great defect The picture is, notwithstanding appearances, a 
modern one. But if you can divest yourself of the general 
prejudice that exists against contemporary talents, you "will see a 
work that ivould have done honour to any school, at any period. 
/ am, Dear Sir, &c. &c. , 

JOHN HOPPNER. 



CONDITIONS OF SUBSCRIPTION. 

The Picture is 3 Feet i Inch long, and i Foot high. 
The Print will be executed exactly of the same size. 
The Price of the Prints will be Three Guineas ; Proof 
Impressions, Five Guineas. Gentlemen who wish to 
possess this Engraving are requested to forward their 
address to Mr. Cromek, No. 64 Newman Street, London ; 



44 PROSPECTUS 

and, as the number of Proof Prints will be limited, an 
early application is indispensable. 

The Purchasers of this Print are respectfully informed 
that it will receive a considerably increased value from 
the circumstance of being enriched with an engraved 
Portrait of Mr. Stothard, executed by Mr. Schiavonetti, 
in the same style of excellence as the subject itself, from 
a capital original picture, painted by John Hoppner, 
Esq., R.A. , and by that Gentleman obligingly con- 
tributed for this purpose. 



Printed by MORRISON & GIBB LIMITED, EdinlurgJi 



PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE 
CARDS OR SLIPS FROM THIS POCKET 

UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO LIBRARY 



PR Blair, Robert 

3318 The grave. new ed 

B7A7 

1903