Skip to main content

Full text of "The English garden: a poem .."

See other formats 


^OF-CAilF(%,         -OF-CAllFO/fo,  ^tt-BNIVERSfc.       ^IQS-ANGElflu 

1 


^OFCAUFO^ 


pj  T      v^ ^  &      &  tar         *  <$        -z  v^_x    » . 
^IMNY  -SOl^       ^/yjHAWfl  3V\V         ^'«5/OJ  m-& 


AOF-CAl!FO%  ^OF-CAIIFO/?^,  ,\\\E  i'NIVER%.  ^IOS  ANCEtfj^  ^OFIAIIFO/?^ 

«•»,  x^\^-  ^>^  /^\%-  ^^  -  JP*  &.  ^ x~s— ^  ^fc  x^v ^ 

?WJ2  iVr^Jl  2 

«  «^'-J  Ir^ji  *<*™^  %. 


a     fl 


,*  ir  HUM  /rnr  . 


£NHMVa$^ 

i    I 


I     S 


^OFCAIIF(%, 


^lOS-ANCElfj 


i  I 


so         O 


5    % 


^LOS  ANGELA 


i>      c£ 

i  I 


s     > 


8  i 


1  I 


^.T ^-<  f      o 

<maoNvsoi^ 


.^tf-UMIVERtoj 


\  s 

i  i 


1  ? 
I  s 
* 


S     a 


£      s 

?5  oa 

P2  ZI! 


g  5 


i    I 


^  -LIBRARY^ 


^     jg 

30         C3 


s  ^ 


^E  UNIVER5//,         vvlOS  ANCElfj> 
£      t'x-v.^^ 


i   I 


g   S 


\\\E  -UNIVERS/A 


^^  O 


^\\El'N!VER%  v 

O  ^^ 

-n  g 

(—1  "- 

I  3 


f 


THE 


ENGLISH      GARDEN. 


BOOK     THE     FIRST. 


[Price  Two  Shillings.] 


THE 

ENGLISH     GARDEN: 


OEM. 


BOOK     THE     FIRST, 

B  Y 

W.      MASON,      M.  A. 

THE      THIRD      EDITION. 


A  GARDEN  IS  THE  PUREST  OF  HUMAN  PLEASURES,  IT  IS  THE  GREATEST 
REFRESHMENT  TO  THE  SPIRITS  OF  MAN  ;  WITHOUT  WHICH  BUILDINGS 
AND  PALACES  ARE  BUT  GROSS  HANDY-WORKS.  AND  A  MAN  SHALL  EVER 
SEE,  THAT  WHEN  AGES  GROW  TO  CIVILITY  AND  ELEGANCY,  MEN  COME 
TO  BUILD  STATELY,  SOONER  THAN  TO  GARDEN  FINELY  :  AS  IF  GARDEN- 
ING WERE  THE  GREATER  PERFECTION. 

V  E  R  U  L  A  M . 


LONDON      PRINTED: 

And  Sold  by  J.  DODSLEY,  in  Pall-Mail;  T.  CAD  ELL,  in  the 
Strand;  G.  RILEY,  in  Curzon-Street ;  and  H.  DENOYER,  in 
Lifle-Streec:  alfo  by  J.  TODD,  in  York. 

M.DCC.LXXVIII. 


t 


r/  -;- 

T.      H      K 


ENGLISH      GARDEN. 


BOOK    THE    FIRST. 

TO  thee,  divine  SIMPLICITY  !  to  thee, 
Beft  arbitrefs  of  what  is  good  and  fair, 
This  verfe  belongs.     O,  as  it  freely  flows, 
Give  it  thy  powers  of  pleating :  elfe  in  vain. 
It  ftrives  to  teach  the  rules,  from  Nature  drawn,  5 

Which  all  mould  follow,  if  they  wi£h  to  add 
To  Nature's  carelefs  graces  ;  lovelieft  then-,;. 
When,  o'er  her  form,  thy  eafy  fkill  has  taught 
The  robe  of  Spring  in  ampler  folds  to  flow. 
Hafte  Goddefs  !  to  the  woods,  the  lawns,  the  vales  -,  10 

That  lie  in  rude  luxuriance,  and  but  wait 
Thy  call  to  bloom  with  beauty.     I  meanwhile, 
Attendant  on  thy  flate  ferene,  will  mark 

B  Its 


2  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN, 

Its  faery  progrefs  -,  wake  th'  accordant  firing ; 

And  tell  how  far,  beyond  the  traniient  glare  1 5 

Of  fickle  fafhion,  or  of  formal  art, 

Thy  flowery  works  with  charm  perennial  pleafe. 

Ye  too,  ye  fitter  Powers  !  that,  at  my  birth, 
Aufpicious  fmil'd  -,  and  o'er  my  cradle  drop'd 
Thofe  magic  feeds  of  Fancy,  which  produce  20 

A  Poet's  feeling,  and  a  Painter's  eye, 
Gome  to  your  votary's  aid.     For  well  ye  know 
How  foon  my  infant  accents  lifp'd  the  rhyme, 
How  foon  my  hands  the  mimic  colours  fpread, 
And  vainly  hop'd  to  fnatch  a  double  wreath  2  C 

From  Fame's  unfading  laurel :  arduous  aim ; 
Yet  not  inglorious  -,  nor  perchance  devoid 
Of  fruitful  ufe  to  this  fair  argument; 
If  fo,  with  lenient  fmiles,  ye  deign  to  chear, 
At  *  this  fad  hour,  my  defolated  foul.  30 

For 

1  This  poem  was  begun  In  the  year  1767,  not  long  after  the  death  of  the 
amiable  perfon  here  mentioned. 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  3 

For  deem  not  ye  that  I  refume  the  lyre 

To  court  the  world's  applaufe  :  my  years  mature 

Have  learn'd  to  flight  the  toy.     No,  'tis  to  footh 

That  agony  of  heart,  which  they  alone, 

Who  befthave  lov'd,  who  befl  have  been  belov'd*  35 

Can  feel,  or  pity;  fympathy  fevere  ! 

Which  me  too  felt,  when  on  her  pallid  lip 

The  laft  farewell  hung  trembling,  and  befpoke 

A  wifh  to  linger  here,  and  blefs  the  arms 

She  left  for  heaven.     She  died,  and  heav'n  is  hers !  40 

Be  mine,  the  penfive  folitary  balm 

That  recollection  yields.     Yes,  Angel  pure  ! 

While  Memory  holds  her  feat,  thy  image  ftill 

Shall  reign,  mail  triumph  there ;  and  when,  as  now, 

Imagination  forms  a  Nymph  divine  45 

To  lead  the  fluent  flrain ;  thy  modefl  blu/h, 

Thy  mild  demeanor,  thy  unpradtis'd  fmile 

Shall  grace  that  Nymph,  and  fweet  Simplicity 

Be  drefs'd  (Ah  meek  MARIA  !)  in  thy  charms. 

B  2  Begin 


%  THE     ENGLISH     G  A  R  D'E  N. 

Begin  the  Song  !  and  ye  of  Albion's  fons  50 

.Attend;  Ye  freeborn,  ye  ingenuous  few, 
Who  heirs  of  competence,  if  not  of  wealth, 
Preferve  that  veftal  purity  of  foul 

•  Whence  genuine  tafte  proceeds.     To  you,  bleft  youths, 
I  fing  ;  whether  in  academic  groves  55 

Studious  ye  rove,  or,  fraught  with  .learning's  ftores, 
Vifit  the  Latian  plain,  fond  to  tranfplant 
Thofe  arts  which  Greece  did,  with  her  Liberty, 
Refign  to  Rome.     Yet  know,  the  art  I  fing 
Ev.'n  there  ye  fhall  not  learn.     Rome  knew  it  not  60 

While  Rome  was  free  :  Ah  !  hope  not  then  to  find 
,  In  flavifh  fuperftitious  Rome  the  fair 
Remains.     Meanwhile,  of  old  and  claflic  aid 
Tho'  fruitlefs  be  the  fearch,  your  eyes  entranc'd 
Shall  catch  thofe  glowing  fcenes,  that  taught  a  CLAUDE        65 
To  grace  his  canvafs  with  Hefperian  hues, 
And  fcenes  like  thefe,  on  Memory's  tablet  drawn, 
Bring  back  to  Britain ;  .there  give  local  form 
To  each  Idea  5  and,  if  Nature  lend 

Materials 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  5 

Materials  fit  of  torrent,  rock,  and  made,  70 

Produce  new  TIVOLIS.     But  learn  to  rein, 

O  Youth  !  whofe  fkill  efTays  the  arduous  tafk, 

That  fkill  within  the  limit  fhe  allows. 

Great  Nature  fcorns  controul :  me  will  not  bear 

One  beauty  foreign  to  the  fpot  or  foil  7$ 

She  gives  thee  to  adorn  :  'tis  thine  alone 

To  mend,  not  change  her  features.     Does  her  hand 

Stretch  forth  a  level  lawn  ?  ah,  hope  not  thou 

To  lift  the  mountain  there.     Do  mountains  frown 

Around  ?  ah,  wifh  not  there  the  level  lawn.  80 

Yet  fhe  permits  thy  art,  difcreetly  us'd, 

To  fmooth  or  fcoop  the  rugged  and  the  plain. 

But  dare  with  caution ;  elfe  expect,  bold  man"! 

The  injur'd  Genius  of  the  place  to  rife 

In  felf-defence,  and,  like  fome  giant  fiend  85 

That  frowns  in  Gothic  flory,  fwift  deftroy, 

By  night,  the  puny  labours  of  thy  day. 

What  then  muft  he  attempt,  whom  niggard  fate 
Has  iixt  in  fuch  an  inaufpicious  fpot 

As 


6  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

As  bears  no  trace  of  beauty  ?  muft  he  fit  90 

Dull  and  inactive  in  the  defert  wafte, 

Since  Nature  there  no  happy  feature  wears 

To  wake  and  meet  his  ikill  ?  Believe  the  Mufe, 

She  does  not  know  that  inaufpicious  fpot 

Where  Beauty  is  thus  niggard  of  her  ftore  :  0,5 

Believe  the  Mufe,  thro'  this  terreftrial  vail 

The  feeds  of  grace  are  fown,  profufely  fown, 

Ev'n  where  we  leaft  may  hope :  the  defert  hills 

Will  hear  the  call  of  art ;  the  vallies  dank 

Obey  her  juft  behefts,  and  fmile  with  charms  100 

Congenial  to  the  foil,  and  all  its  own. 

For  tell  me,  where's  the  defert  ?  there  alone 
Where  man  refides  not ;  or,  if  chance  refides, 
He  is  not  there  the  man  his  maker  form'd, 
Induftrious  man,  by  heav'n's  firft  law  ordain'd  10^ 

To  earn  his  food  by  labour.     In  the  wafte 
Place  thou  that  man  with  his  primaeval  arms, 
His  plough-ftiare,  and  his  fpade  j  nor  malt  thou  long 

Im- 


THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN.  7 

Impatient  wait  a  change  :  the  wafte  mall  fmile 

With  yellow  harvefb  -,  what  was  barren  heath  ua. 

Shall  foon  be  verdant  mead.     Now  then  arife  ; 

Now  let  thy  art,  in  union  with  his  toil, 

Exert  its  powers,  and  give,  with  varying  fkill, 

The  foil,  already  tam'd,  its  finifli'd  grace. 

Nor  lefs  obfequious  to  the  hand  of  toil,  il$ 

If  fancy  guide  that  hand,  will  the  dank  vale 
Receive  improvement  meet :  but  Fancy  here 
Muft  lead,  not  follow  Labour ;  me  muft  tell 
In  what  peculiar  place  the  foil  mall  rife, 

Where  fink ;  prefcribe  what  form  each  fluice  (hall  wear,      123 
And  how  direct  its  courfe  j  whether  to  fpread 
Broad  as  a  lake,  or,  as  a  river  pent 
By  fringed  banks,  weave  its  irriguous  way 
Thro'  lawn  and  made  alternate  :  for  if  She 
Prefide  not  o'er  the  tafk,  the  narrow  drains  125 

Will  run  in  tedious  parallel,  or  cut 
Each  other  in  fharp  angles  j  call  her  then 

Swift 


8  THE    ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

Swift  to  thy  aid,  ere  the  remorfelefs  fpade 
Too  deeply  wound  the  bofom  of  the  foil. 

Yet,  in  this  lowly  fite,  where  all  that  charms  130 

Within  itfelf  muft  charm,  hard  is  the  tafk 
Impos'd  on  Fancy.     Hence  with  idle  fear  ! 
Is  fhe  not  Fancy  ?  and  can  Fancy  fail 
In  fweet  delufions,  in  concealments  apt, 

And  wild  creative  power  ?  She  cannot  fail.  135 

And  yet,  full  oft,  when  her  creative  power, 
Her  apt  concealments,  her  delufions  fweet 
Have  been  profufely  lavifh'd ;  when  her  groves 
Have  fhot,  with  vegetative  vigour  ftrong, 
Ev'n  to  their  wifh'd  maturity ;  when  Jove  140 

Has  roll'd  the  changeful  feafons  o'er  her  lawns, 
And  each  has  left  a  blefiing  as  it  roll'd : 
Ev'n  then,  perchance,  fome  vain  faftidious  eye 
Shall  rove  unmindful  of  furrounding  charms 
And  afk  for  profpedt.     Stranger  !  'tis  not  here.  \A  e 

Go  feek  it  on  fome  garifli  turret's  height ; 

Seek 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  9 

Seek  it  on  Richmond's  or  on  Windfor's  brow ; 

There  gazing,  on  the  gorgeous  vale  below, 

Applaud  befure,  with  famion'd  pomp  of  phrafe, 

The  good  and  bad,  which,  in  profufion,  there  150 

That  gorgeous  vale  exhibits.     Here  meanwhile, 

Ev'n  in  the  dull,  unfeen,  unfeeing  dell, 

Thy  tafte  contemns,  mall  Contemplation  imp 

Her  eagle  plumes ;  the  Poet  here  mall  hold 

Sweet  converfe  with  his  Mufe;  the  curious  Sage,  155 

Who  comments  on  great  Nature's  ample  tome, 

Shall  find  that  volume  here.     For  here  are  caves, 

Where  rife  thofe  gurgling  rills,  that  fing  the  fong 

Which  Contemplation  loves  ;  here  fhadowy  glades, 

Where  thro'  the  tremulous  foliage  darts  the  ray,  160 

That  gilds  the  Poet's  day-dream ;  here  the  turf 

Teems  with  the  vegetating  race,  the  air 

Is  peopled  with  the  infect  tribes,  that  float 

Upon  the  noontide  beam,  and  call  the  fage 

To  number  and  to  name  them.     Nor  if  here  165 

The  painter  comes,  fhall  his  enchanting  art 

C  Go 


io  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

Go  back  without  a  boon:  for  Nature  here 

Has  with  her  living  colours,  form'd  a  fcene 

Which  RUISDALE  befl  might  rival :  Chryflal  lakes, 

O'er  which  the  giant  oak,  himfelf  a  grove,  170 

Flings  his  romantick  branches,  and  beholds 

His  reverend  image  in  th'  expanfe  below. 

If  diftant  hills  be  wanting,  yet  our  eye 

Forgets  the  want,  and  with  delighted  gaze 

Refts  on  the  lovely  foreground ;  there  applauds  17-5- 

The  art,  which,  varying  forms  and  blending  hues, 

Gives  that  harmonious  force  of  made  and  light, 

Which  makes  the  landfcape  perfect.     Art  like  this 

Is  only  art,  all  elfe  abortive  toil. 

Thou  then,  the  docile  pupil  of  my  fong,  180 

Attend;  and  learn  how  much  on  Painting's  aid 
Thy  fitter  art  depends  :  learn  now  its  laws  ; 
Their  practice  may  demand  a  future  ftrain. 

Of  Nature's  various  fcenes  the  painter  culls 
That  for  his  fav'rite  theme,  where  the  fair  whole  185 

>   ,  Is 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  n 

Is  broken  into  ample  parts,  and  bold  j 
Where  to  the  eye  three  well-mark'd  diftances 
Spread  their  peculiar  colouring.     Vivid  green, 
Warm  brown  and  black  opake  the  foreground  bears 
Confpicuous  ;  fober  olive  coldly  marks  19° 

The  fecond  diftance ;  thence  the  third  declines 
In  fofter  blue,  or  lefs'ning  ftill  is  loft 
In  fainteft  purple.     When  thy  tafle  is  call'd 
To  adorn  a  fcene  where  Nature's  felf  prefents 
All  thefe  diftinct  gradations,  then  rejoice  195 

As  does  the  painter,  and  like  him  apply 
Thy  colours ;  plant  thou  on  each  feparate  part 
Its  proper  foliage.     Chief,  for  there  thy  {kill 
Has  its  chief  fcope,  enrich  with  all  the  hues 
That  flowers,  that  (hrubs,  that  trees  can  yield,  the  fides      200 
Of  that  fair  path,  from  whence  our  fight  is  led 
Gradual  to  view  the  whole.     Where'er  thou  wind'ft 
That  path,  take  heed  between  the  fcene,  and  eye, 
To  vaiy  and  to  mix  thy  chofen  greens. 

Here  for  a  while  with  cedar  or  with  larch,  205 

C  2  That 


12  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

That  from  the  ground  fpread  their  clofe  texture,  hide 

The  view  entire.     Then  o'er  fome  lowly  tuft, 

Where  rofe  and  woodbine  bloom,  permit  its  charms 

To  burft  upon  the  fight  j  now  thro'  a  copfe 

Of  beech,  that  rear  their  fmooth  and  {lately  trunks,, 

Admit  it  partially,  and  half  exclude, 

And  half  reveal  its  graces  :  in  this  path, 

How  long  foe'er  the  wanderer  roves,  each  ftep 

Shall  wake  frefh  beauties  •,  each  fhort  point  prefent 

A  different  picture,  new,  and  yet  the  fame.  21-5. 

Yet  fome  there  are  who  deem  this  precept  vain, 
And  fell  each  tree  that  intercepts  the  fcen«. 
O  great  POUSSIN  !  O  Nature's  darling,  CLAUDE  ! 
What  if  fome  ram  and  facrilegious  hand 

Tore  from  your  canvafs  thofe  umbrageous  pines  220 

That  frown  in  front,  and  give  each  azure  hill 
The  charm  of  contraft  !  Nature  fuffers  here 
Like  outrage,  and  bewails  a  beauty  loft 
Which  Time  with  tardy  hand  fhall  late  reflore. 

Yet 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN,  rj 

Yet  here  the  fpoiler  refls  not;  fee  him  rife  225 

Warm  from  his  devaflation,  to  improve, 

For  fo  he  calls  it,  yonder  champian  wide. 

There  on  each  bolder  brow  in  fhapes  acute 

His  fence  he  fcatters ;  there  the  Scottifh  fir 

In  murky  file  lifts  his  inglorious  head,  230 

And  blots  the  fair  horizon.     So  mould  art 

Improve  thy  pencil's  favage  dignity, 

SALVATOR  !  if  where,  far  as  eye  can  pierce,. 

Rock  pil'd  on  rock,,  thy  Alpine  heights  retire, 

She  flung  her  random  foliage,  and  difturb'd  23.5 

The  deep  repofe  of  the  majeftic  fcene.. 

This  deed  were  impious.     Ah,  forgive  the  though t^. 

Thou  more  than  painter,  more  than  poet !  HE, 

Aloae  thy  equal,  who  was  "  Fancy's  child J* 

Does  then  the  Song  forbid  the  planter's  hand  240 

To  clothe  the  difiant  hills,  and  veil  with  woods 
Their  barren  fummits  ?  No,  but  it  forbids 
AH  poverty  of  clothing.     Rich  the  robe, 

And 


*i4  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

And  amply  let  it  flow,  that  Nature  wears 

On  her  thron'd  eminence  :  where'er  me  takes  245 

Her  horizontal  march,  purfue  her  ftep 

With  fweeping  train  of  foreft ;  hill  to  hill 

Unite  with  prodigality  of  made. 

There  plant  thy  elm,  thy  chefnut;  nourim  there 

Thofe  fapling  oaks,  which,  at  Britannia's  call,  250 

May  heave  their  trunks  mature  into  the  main, 

And  float  the  bulwarks  of  her  liberty  : 

But  if  the  fir,  give  it  its  ftation  meet ; 

Place  it  an  outgard  to  th'  afiailing  north, 

To  fhield  the  infant  fcions,  till  polTeft  255 

Of  native  ftrength,  they  learn  alike  to  fcorn 

The  blaft  and  their  protestors.     Fofter'd  thus, 

The  cradled  hero  gains  from  female  care 

His  future  vigor;  but,  that  vigor  felt, 

He  fprings  indignant  from  his  nurfe's  arms,  260 

He  nods  the  plumy  creft,  he  (hakes  the  fpear, 

And  is  that  av/ful  thing  which  heav'n  ordain'd 

The  fcourge  of  tyrants,  and  his  country's  pride. 

Jf 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  15 

If  then  thou  ftill  art  dubious  how  to  treat 

Nature's  negleded  features,  turn  thy  eye  265 

To  thofe,  the  maflers  of  correct  defign,. 
Who,  from  her  vail  variety,  have  cull'd 
The  lovelieft,  boldeft  parts,  and  new  arrang'd  > 
Yet,  as  herfelf  approv'd,  herfelf  infpir'd. 

In  their  immortal  works  thou  ne'er  malt  find  270 

Dull  uniformity,  contrivance  quaint, 
Or  labour'd  littlenefs;  but  contrails  broad, 
And  carelefs  lines,  whofe  undulating  form 
Plays  thro'  the  varied  canvafs  :  thefe  tranfplant 
Again  on  Nature  ;  take  thy  plaftic  fpade,  275 

It  is  thy  pencil ;   take  thy  feeds,  thy  plants,. 
They  are  thy  colours  ;  and  by  thefe  repay 
With  intereit  every  charm  me  lent  thy  art. 

But,  while  I  thus  to  Imitation's  realm 

Direct  thy  flep,  deem  not  I  lead  thee  wrong;  280 

Nor  afk,  why  I  forget  great  Nature's  fount, 
And  bring  thee  not  the  bright  infpiring  cup 

From 


16  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

From  her  original  fpring  ?  Yet,  if  thou  afk'ft, 

Thyfelf  malt  give  the  anfwer.     Tell  me  why 

Did  RAPHAEL  fteal,  when  his  creative  hand  285 

Imag'd  the  Seraphim,  ideal  grace 

And  dignity  fupernal  from  that  ftore 

Of  Attic  fculpture,  which  the  ruthlefs  Goth 

Spar'd  in  his  headlong  fury  ?  Tell  me  this  : 

And  then  confefs  that  beauty  beft  is  taught  290 

By  thofe,  the  favor'd  few,  whom  Heav'n  has  lent 

The  power  to  feize,  felecl:,  and  reunite 

Her  lovelier!  features  ;  and  of  thefe  to  form 

One  Archetype  compkat  of  fovereign  Grace. 

Here  Nature  fees  her  faireft  forms  more  fair;  295- 

Owns  them  her  own,  yet  owns  herfelf  excell'd 

By  what  herfelf  produc'd.     Here  Art  and  me 

Embrace ;  connubial  Juno  fmiles  benign, 

And  from  the  warm  embrace  perfection  fprings. 

Roufe  then  each  latent  energy  of  foul  300 

To  claip  ideal  beauty.     Proteus-like, 

Think 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  17 

Think  not  the  changeful  Nymph  will  long  elude 

Thy  chafe,  or  with  reluctant  coynefs  frown. 

Infpir'd  by  her  thy  happy  art  mall  learn 

To  melt  in  fluent  curves  whate'er  is  ftraight,  305 

Acute,  or  parallel.     For,  thefc  unchang'd, 

Nature  and  me  difdain  the  formal  fcene. 

'Tis  their  demand,  that  ev'ry  flep  of  Rule 

Be  quite  eraz'd.     For  know,  their  ev'ry  charm 

Springs  from  Variety ;  but  all  the  boaft 

Of  Rule  is  irkfome  Uniformity. 

That  end  to  effect  we  own  the  cube,  or  cone, 

Are  well  employ'd ;  but  fair  Variety 

Lives  only  where  me  undulates  and  fports 

In  many  a  winding  train.     As  Nature  then 

Avoids,  difdains,  abhors  all  equal  lines; 

So  Mechanifm  purfues,  admires,  adores. 

Hence  is  their  enmity  ;  and  fooner  hope 

With  hawks  and  doves  to  draw  the  Cyprian  car, 

Than  reconcile  thefe  jarring  principles.  320 

Where  then,  alas,  where  fhall  the  Dryads  fly 
That  haunt  yon  antient  Villa  ?  Pity,  fure, 

D  Will 


18  THE     ENGLISH     GARDE  N.. 

Will  fpare  the  long  cathedral  ifle  of  lhade 

In  which  they  fojourn  ;  Tafte  were  facrilege,, 

If,  lifting  there  the  axe,  it  dar'd  invade  325: 

Thofe  fpreading  oaks  that  in  fraternal  files 

Have  pair'd  for  centuries,  and  heard  the  ftrains 

Of  SIDNEY'S,  nay,  perchance,  of  SURRY'S  reed. 

Heav'ns  !   muft  they  fall  ?  They  muft,  their  doom  is  paft.. 

None  fhall  efcape  :  unlefs  mechanic  Skill,  330 

To  fave  her  offspring,  roufe  at  our  command  ; 

And,  where  we  bid  her  move,  with  engine  huge, 

Each  ponderous  trunk,  the  ponderous  trunk  there  move. 

A  work  of  difficulty  and  danger  try'd,. 

Nor  oft  fuccefsful  found.     But  if  it  fails,,  335. 

Thy  axe  muft  do  its  office.     Cruel  tafk, 

Yet  needful.     Truft  me,  tho'  I  bid  thee  ftrike,, 

Reluctantly  I  bid  thee  :  for  my  foul 

Holds  dear  an  antient  oak,  nothing  more  dear  y 

It  is  an  antient  Friend.     Stay  then  thine  hand  ;  340 

And  try  by  faplings  tall,  difcreetly  plac'd 

Before,  between,  behind,  in  fcatter'd  groups, 

To 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  ig 

To  break  th'  obdurate  line.     So  may'ft  thou  fave 

A  chofen  few  ;  and  yet,  alas,  but  few 

Of  thefe,  the  old  protestors  of  the  plain.  345 

Yet  fliall  thefe  few  give  to  thy  opening  lawn 

That  fhadowy  pomp,  which  only  they  can  give : 

For  parted  now,  in  patriarchal  pride, 

Each  tree  becomes  the  father  of  a  tribe ; 

And,  o'er  the  flripling  foliage,  riling  round,  3 50 

Towers  with  parental  dignity  fupreme. 

And  yet,  My  Albion  !  in  that  fair  domain 
Which  Ocean  made  thy  dowry,  when  his  Love 
Tempeftuous  tore  thee  from  reluctant  Gaul, 
And  bad  thee  be  his  Queen,  there  fUll  remains  355 

Full  many  a  lovely  unfrequented  wild, 
Where  change  like  this  is  needlefs ;  where  no  lines 
Of  hedge-row,  avenue,  or  of  platform  fquare 
Demand  deflrudlion. .   In  thy  fair  domain, 
Yes,  my  lov'd  Albion  !  many  a  glade  is  found,  360 

The  haunt  of  Wood-gods  only  :  where  if  Art 

D  2  E'er 


20  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

E'er  dar'd  to  tread  -,  'twas  with  unfandal'd  foot,. 

Printlefs,  as  if  the  place  were  holy  ground. 

And  there  are  fcenes,  where,  tho'  fhe  whilom  trod,, 

Led  by  the  worft  of  guides,  fell  Tyranny, 

And  ruthlefs  Superflition,  we  now  trace 

Her  footfteps  with  delight^  and  pleas'd  revere 

What  once  we  mould  have  hated.     But  to  Time^ 

Not  her,  the  praife  is  due  :  his  gradual  touch 

Has  moulder'd  into  beauty  many  a  tower,.  370 

Which,  when  it  frown'd  with  all  its  battlements* 

Was  only  terrible  j  and  many  a  fane 

Monaftic,  which,  when  deck'd  with  all  its  fpires,. 

Serv'd  but  to  feed  £bme  pamper'd  Abbot's  pride, 

And  awe  th'  unletter'd  vulgar.     Generous  Youth,  375 

Whoe'er  thou  art,  that  liften'fl  to  my  lay, 

And  feel'ft  thy  foul  aflent  to  what  I  fing^ 

Happy  art  thou  if  thou  can'fl  call  thine  own 

Such  fcenes  as  thefe :  where  Nature  and  where  Time 

Have  work'd  congenial ;  where  a  fcatter'd  hoft  3.80 

Of  antique  oaks  darken  thy  fidelong  hills  y 

While, 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  21 

While,  rufhing  thro*  their  branches,  rifted  cliffs 

Dart  their  white  heads,  and  glitter  thro'  the  gloom* 

More  happy  ftill,  if  one  fuperior  rock 

Bear  on  its  brow  the  miver'd  fragment  huge  385 

Of  fome  old  Norman  fortrefs- ;  happier  far, 

Ah,  then  mofl  happy,  if  thy  vale  below 

Warn,  with  the  chryftal  coolnefs  of  its  rills,, 

Some  mouldring  abbey's  ivy- veiled  walk 

O  how  unlike  the  fcene  my  fancy  forms,  390 

Did  Folly,  heretofore,  with  Wealth  confpire 
To  plan  that  formal,  dull,  disjointed  fcene, 
Which  once  was  call'd  a  Garden.     Britain  ftill 
Bears  on  her  breaft  full  many  a  hideous  wound 
Given  by  the  cruel  pair,  when,  borrowing  aid  395 

From  geometric  fkill,  they  vainly  flrove 
By  line,  by  plummet,  and  unfeeling  fheers, 
To  form  *  with  verdure  what  the  builder  form'd 

With 

*  Altho'  this  feems  to  be  the  principle  upon  which  this  falfe  tafte  was  founded, 
yet  the  error  was  detected  by  one  of  our  firft  writers  upon  architecture.     I  fhall 

tranfcribe 


22  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

With  ftone.     Egregious  madnefs ;  yet  purfu'd 

With  pains  unwearied,  with  expence  unfumm'd,  400 

And  fcience  doating.     Hence  the  fidelong  walls 

Of  ihaven  yew ;  the  holly's  prickly  arms 

Trimm'd  into  high  arcades  ;  the  tonfile  box 

Wove,  in  mofaic  mode  of  many  a  curl, 

Around  the  figur'd  carpet  of  the  lawn.  405 

Hence  too  deformities  of  harder  cure  : 

The 

tranfcribe  the  pafiage,  which  is  the  more  remarkable  as  it  came  from  the  quaint 
pen  of  Sir  Henry  Wotton  :  "  I  muft  note  (fays  he)  a  certain  contrariety  be- 
"  tween  building  and  gardening  :  for  as  fabricks  fhould  be  regular,  fo  gar- 
"  dens  (hould  be  irregular,  or  at  leaft  caft  into  a  very  wild  regularity.  To 
*'  exemplify  my  conceit,  I  have  feen  a  garden,  for  the  manner  perchance  incom- 
"  parable  ;  into  which  the  firft  accefs  was  a  high  walk  like  a  terras,  from  whence 
"  might  be  taken  a  general  view  of  the  whole  plot  below,  but  rather  in  a  delight- 
*c  ful  confufion,  than  with  any  plain  diftinclion  of  the  pieces.  From  this  the 
"  beholder  defcending  many  fteps,  was  afterwards  conveyed  again  by  feveral 
"  mountings  and  valings,  to  various  entertainments  of  his  fcent  and  fight : 
"  which  I  (hall  not  need  to  defcribe,  for  that  were  poetical  ;  let  me  only  note 
"  this,  that  every  one  of  thefe  diverfities,  was  as  if  he  had  been  magically  tranf- 
«  ported  into  a  new  garden."  Were  the  Terras  and  the  {reps  omitted,  this 
defcription  would  feem  to  be  almoft  entirely  conformable  to  our  prefent  ideas  of 
ornamental  panting.  The  pafTage  which  follows  is  not  Icfs  worthy  of  our  notice. 
*•  But  though  other  countries  have  more  benefit  of  the  Sun  than  we,  and  thereby 

**  more 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN,  23 

The  terras  mound  uplifted  ;  the  long  line 

Deep  delv'd  of  flat  canal;  and  all  that  toil, 

Mifled  by  taftelefs  famion,  could  atchieve 

To  mar  fair  Nature's  lineaments  divine.  410 

Long  was  the  night  of  error,  nor  difpell'd 
By  Him  that  rofe  at  learning's  earlier!  dawn, 
Prophet  of  unborn  Science.  On  thy  realm, 
Philofophy  !  his  fovereign  luflre  fpread* 

Yet 

"  more  properly  tied' to  contemplate  this  delight;  yet  have  I  feen  in  our  own, 
c'  a  delicate  and  diligent  curiofity,  furely  without  parallel  among  foreign  nations, 
"  namely  in  the  garden  of  Sir  Henry  Fanfhaw,  at  his  feat  in  Ware-Park  ;  where 
M  I  well  remember,  he  did  fo  precifely  examine  the  tinctures  and  feafons  of  his 
"  flowers,  that  in  their  fettings,  the  inwardeft  of  which  that  were  to  come  up  at 
"  the  fame  time,  fhould  be  always  a  little  darker  than  the  utmoft,  and  fo  ferve 
*'  them  for  a  kind  of  gentle  fhadow."  This  feems  to  be  the  very  fame  fpecies  of 
improvement  which  Mr.  Kent  valued  himfelf  for  inventing,  in  later  times,  and 
of  executing,  not  indeed  with  flowers,  but  with  flowering  flirubs  and  evergreens, 
in  his  more  finifhed  pieces  of  fcenery.  The  method  of  producing  which  effe£t 
has  been  defcribed  with  great  precifion  and  judgment  by  a  late  ingenious  writer. 
(See  Obfervatiom  on  modern  Gardening,  fe6l.  I4th,  151)1,  and  i6th).  It  may 
however  be  doubted  whether  Sir  Henry  Fanfhaw's  garden  were  not  too  delicate 
and  diligent  a  curiofity,  fmce  its  panegyrift  concludes  the  whole  with  telling  us, 
that  it  was  "  like  a  piece  not  of  Nature,  but  of  Art."  See  Religttia: 
page  64,  edit.  4th.. 


24  THE    ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

Yet  did  he  deign  to  light  with  cafual  glance  415 

The  wilds  of  tafte.     Yes,  *  fageft  VERULAM, 

'Twas  thine  to  banifh  from  the  royal  groves 

Each  childifh  vanity  of  crifped  knot 

And  fculptor'd  foliage ;  to  the  lawn  reftore 

Its  ample  fpace,  and  bid  it  feaft  the  fight  420 

With  verdure  pure,  unbroken,  unabridg'd  : 

For  green  is  to  the  eye,  what  to  the  ear 

Is  harmony,  or  to  the  fmell  the  rofe. 

So 

*  Lord  Bacon  in  the  46th  of  his  eflays  defcribes  what  he  calls  the  platform  of 
a  princely  garden.  If  the  Reader  compare  this  defcription  with  that  which  Sir 
William  Temple  has  given  in  his  eflay,  entituled,  Tlje  Gardens  of  Epicurus ^  writ- 
ten in  a  fubfequent  age,  he  will  find  the  fuperiority  of  the  former  very  apparent ; 
for  tho'  both  of  them  are  much  obfcur'd  by  the  falfe  tafte  of  the  times  in  which 
they  were  written,  yet  the  vigor  of  Lord  Bacon's  genius  breaks  frequently  thro' 
the  cloud,  and  gives  us  a  very  clear  difplay  of  what  the  real  merit  of  gardening 
would  be  when  its  true  principles  were  afcertained.  For  inftance,  out  of 
thirty  acres  which  he  allots  for  the  whole  of  his  Pleafure-ground,  he  fele&s  the 
firft  four  for  a  lawn,  without  any  intervention  of  plot  or  parterre,  "  becaufe" 
fays  he,  "  nothing  is  more  pleafant  to  the  eye  than  green  grafs  kept  finely 
ihorn."  And  "  as  for  the  making  of  knots  of  figures,  with  diverfe  coloured 
"  earths,  that  they  may  lie  under  the  windows  of  the  houfe,  on  that  fide  which 
"  the  garden  {rands,  they  be  but  toys,  you  may  fee  as  good  fights  many  times 
«« in  tarts."  Sir  William  Temple  on  the  contrary  tell  us,  that  in  the  garden 
at  Moor-park,  which  was  his  model  of  perfection,  the  firft  inlet  to  the  whole 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  25 

So  taught  the  Sage,  taught  a  degenerate  reign 
What  in  Eliza's  golden  day  was  tafte.  425 

Not  but  the  mode  of  that  romantic  age, 
The  age  of  tourneys,  triumphs,  and  quaint  mafques, 
Glar'd  with  fantaftic  pageantry,  which  dimm'd 
The  fober  eye  of  truth,  and  dazzled  ev'n 

The  Sage  himfelf ;  witnefs  his  arched  hedge,  430 

E  In 


was  a  very  broad  gravel  walk  garnifh'd  with  a  row  of  Laurels  which  looked  like 
Orange-trees,  and  was  terminated  at  each   end  by  a  fummer-Houfe.      The   par- 
terre or  principal  garden  which  makes  the  fecond  part  in  each  of  their  defcrip- 
tions,  it  muft  be  owned  is  equally  devoid  of  fimplicity  in   them   both.      "  The 
"  garden   (fays  his  Lordfhip)   is  beft  to  be  fquare,  encompafTed   with  a  ftately 
"  arched  hedge,  the  arches  to  be  upon  carpenters  work,  over  every  arch  a  little 
"  belly  enough  to  receive  a  cage  of  birds,  and,  over   every  fpace  between   the 
"  arches,    fome  other  little  figure  with  broad   plates  of  round    coloured   glafs 
"  gilt  for  the  fun  to  play  upon."     It  would  have  been  difficult  for  Sir  William 
to  make  his  more  fantaflic  ;  he  has  however  not  made  it  more  natural.     The 
third   part,  which  Lord   Bacon  calls  the  Heath,, and  the  other  the  Wildernefs 
is  that  in  which  the  Genius  of  Lord  Bacon  is  moft  vifible;  "  for  this,"  fays  he, 
"  I  wifh  to  be  framed  as  much  as  may  be  to  a  natural  wildnefs."     And  accord- 
ingly he  gives  us  a  defcription  of  it  in  the  moft  agreeable  and  pidturefque  terms 
infomuch  that  it  feems  lefs  the  work  of  his  own  fancy  than  a  delineation  of  that 
ornamental  fcenery  which  had  no  exiftence  till  above  a  century  after  it  was  writ- 
ten.    Such,  when  he  defcended  to  matters  of  mere  Elegance  (for  when  we  fpeak 
of  Lord  Bacon,  to  treat  of  thefe  was  to  defcend)  were  the  amazing  powers  of  his 
univerfal  Genius. 


26  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN, 

In  pillar'd  ftate  by  carpentry  upborn. 

With  colour'd  mirrors  deck'd,  and  caged  birds  : 

But,  when  our  ftep  has  pac'd  his  proud  parterres, . 

And  reach'd  the  heath,  then  Nature  glads  our  eye 

Sporting  in  all  her  lovely  carelefTnefs.  43  £; 

There  fmiles  in  varied  tufts  the  velvet  rofe, 

There  flaunts  the  gadding  woodbine,  fwells  the  ground 

In  gentle  hillocks,  and  around  its  fides 

Thro'  bloffom'd  fhades  die  fecret  pathway  fteals. 

Thus,  with  a  poet's  power,  the  Sage's  pen,  440 

Pourtray'd  that  nicer  negligence  of  fcene, 
Which  Tafte  approves.     While  He,  delicious  Swain,. 
Who  tun'd  his  oaten  pipe  by  Mulla's  ftream, 
Accordant  touch'd  the  flops  in  Dorian  mood ; 
What  time  he  'gan  to  paint  the  fairy  vale,  445. 

Where  ftands  the  Fane  of  Venus.     Well  I  ween 
That  then,  if  ever,  COLIN,  thy  fond  hand 
Did  fteep  its  pencil  in  the  well-fount  clear. 

Of 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  27 

Of  true  fimplicity  -,  and  *  "  call'd  in  Art 

"  Only  to  fecond  Nature,  and  fupply  450 

"  All  that  the  Nymph  forgot,  or  left  forlorn." 

Yet  what  avail'd  the  fong  ?  or  what  avail'd 

Ev'n  thine,  Thou  chief  of  Bards,  whofe  mighty  mind. 

With  inward  light  irradiate,  mirror-like 

Receiv'd,  and  to  mankind  with  ray  reflex  455 

The  fov'reign  Planter's  primal  work  difplay'd  ? 

•f*  That  work,  "  where  not  nice  Art  in  curious  knots, 

"  But  Nature  boon  pour'd  forth  on  hill  and  dale 

"  Flowers  worthy  of  Paradife;  while  all  around 

"  Umbrageous  grotts,  and  caves  of  cool  recefs,  460 

-•"  And  murmuring  waters  down  the  flope  difpers'd, 

E  2  "  Or 

*  See  Spencer's  Fairy  Queen,  Book  4th,  Canto  the  loth:  the  paflage  imme- 
diately alluded  to  is  in  the  2ift  Stanza. 

.For  all  that  Nature,  by  her  mother  wit, 

Could  frame  in  earth  and  form  of  fubftance  bafe 
Was  there ;  and  all  that  Nature  did  omit, 

Art  (playing  Nature's  fecond  part)  fupplied  it. 

f  See  Milton's  inimitable  defcription  of  the  garden  of  Eden.     Paradife  Loft, 
Book  4th,  part  of  which  is  here  .inferted. 


28  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

"  Or  held,  by  fringed  banks,  in  chryftal  lakes, 

"  Compofe  a  rural  feat  of  various  view." 

'Twas  thus  great  Nature's  Herald  blazon'd  high 

That  fair  original  imprefs,  which  me  bore  465 

In  ftate  fublime;  e'er  mifcreated  Art, 

Offspring  of  fin  and  fhame,  the  banner  feiz'd,. 

And  with  adulterate  pageantry  defil'd. 

Yet  vainly,  MILTON.,  did  thy  voice  proclaim 

Thefe  her  primaeval  honours.     Still  fhe  lay  470 

Defac'd,  deflower'd,  full  many  a  ruthlefs  year  : 

Alike,  when  Charles,  the  abject  tool  of  France, 

Came  back  to  fmile  his  fubjects  into  flaves  -, 

Or  Belgic  William,  with  his  warriour  frown, 

Coldly  declar'd  them  free  ;  in  fetters  frill  475: 

The  Goddefs  pin'd,  by  both  alike  oppreft. 

Go  to  the  Proof!  behold  what  TEMPLE  call'd 
A  perfect  Garden.     There  thou  malt  not  find 
One  blade  of  verdure,  but  with  aching  feet 
From  terras  down  to  terras  malt  defcend,,  480 

Step 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  29 

Step  following  flep,  by  tedious  flight  of  flairs  : 
On  leaden  platforms  now  the  noon- day  fun 
Shall  fcorch  thee;  now  the  dank  arcades  of  ftone 
Shall  chill  thy  fervour;  happy,  if  at  length 
Thou  reach  the  Orchard,  where  *  the  fparing  turf  485 

Thro'  equal  lines  all  centring  in  a  point 
Yields  thee  a  fofter  tread.     And  yet  full  oft 
O'er  TEMPLE'S  ftudious  hour  did  Truth  prefide> 
Sprinkling  her  luftre  o'er  his  clarDc  page  : 

There  hear  his  candor  own  in  fafhion's  fpite*  490 

In 

*  The  French  at  prefent  feem  to  be  equally  fparing  of  this  natural  clothing  of 
the  Earth,  altho'  they  have  done  us  the  honour  to  adopt  our  Bowling-Greens, 
and  to  improve  upon  them.  This  appears  from  the  following  article  of  the 
Encyclopedic  tranilated  verbatim. 

*'  Boulingrin.  N.  S.  In  gardening  is  a  fpecics  of  Parterre  compoied  of  pieces 
*'  of  divided  turf  with  borders  doping  (en  glacis)  and  evergreens  at  the  corners 
"  and  other  parts  of  it.  It  is  mowed  four  times  a  year  to  make  the  turf  finer. 
"  The  invention  of  this  kind  of  parterre  comes  from  England,  as  alfo.  its  name, 
"  which  is  derived  from  Boule  round,  and  Grin  fine  grafs  or  turf.  Boulingrins 
"  are  either  fimple,  or  compound;  the  firrple  are  all  turf  without  ornament; 
"  the  compound  are  cut  into  compartments  of  turf,  embroidered  with  knots, 
"  mixt  with  little  paths,  borders  of  flowers,  yew-trees,  and  flowering  fhrubs. 
"  Sand  alfo  of  different  colours  contributes  greatly  to  their  valued' 


3o  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

In  fpite  of  courtly  dulnefs,  hear  it  own 

"  There  is  a  grace  in  wild  variety 

*'  Surpafling  rule  and  order."  *     TEMPLE,  yes, 

There  is  a  grace ;  and  let  eternal  wreaths 

Adorn  their  brows  who  fixt  its  empire  here.  40/5 

The  Mufe  (hall  hail  -f-  the  champions  that  herfelf 

Led  to  the  fair  atchiev.ement.     ADD  ISDN, 

Thou 

*  The  Paflage  here  alluded  to  is  as  follows :  "  What  I  have  faid  of  the  beft 
"  forms  of  Gardens  is  meant  only  of  fuch  as  are  in  fome  fort  regular,  for  there 
11  may  be  other  forms  wholly  irregular,  that  inay^  for  ought  I  know,  have  more  beauty 
"  than  any  of  the  others :  But  they  muft  owe  it  to  fome  extraordinary  difpofitions 
-"  of  Nature  in  the  feat,  or  fome  great  race  of  fancy  and  judgment  in  the  contri- 
"  vance,  which  may  reduce  many  difagreeing  parts  into  fome  figure  which  (hall 
"  yet  upon  the  whole  be  very  agreeable.  Something  of  this  T  have  feen  in  fome 
"  places,  and  heard  more  of  it  from  others  who  have  lived  much  among  the 
"  Chinefes."  Sir  William  then  gives  us  a  kind  of  general  account  of  the  Chi- 
nefe  tafte,  and  of  their  Sharawadgi,  and  concludes  thus :  "  But  I  (hould 
"  hardly  advife  any  of  thefe  attempts  in  the  figure  of  gardens-  among  us,  they 
"  are  adventures  of  loo  hardy  achievement  for  any  common  hands ;  and  tho* 
"  there  may  be  more  honour  if  they  fucceed  well,  yet  there  is  more  difhonour 
«*  if  they  fail,  and  'tis  twenty  to  one  they  will,  whereas  in  regular  figures  it  is 
"  hard  to  make  any  great  and  remarkable  faults."  See  Temple's  Mifcellanies, 
Vol.  I..Pagei86.  Fol.  Ed. 

f  I  had  before  called  Bacon  the  prophet,  and  Milton  the  herald  of  true  tafte 
.in  Gardening.  The  former,  becaufe  in  developing  the  constituent  properties  of  a 

princely 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  31 

Thou  polim'd  Sage,  or  (hall  I  call  thee  Bard, 
I  fee  thee  come :  around  thy  temples  play 
The  lambent  flames  of  humour,  bright'ning  mild  500 

Thy  judgment  into  fmilesj  gracious  thou  com'ft 
With  Satire  at  thy  fide,  who  checks  her  frown, 
But  not  her  fecret  fling.     With  bolder  rage 
POPE  next  advances  :  his  indignant  arm 

Waves  the  poetic  brand  o'er  Timon's  fhadesiy  505 

And 

princely  garden  he  had  largely  expatiated  upon  that  adorned  natural  wildnefs 
which  we  now  deem  the  efience  of  the  art.  The  latter,  on  account  of  his  hav- 
ing made  this  natural  wildnefs  the  leading  idea  in  his  exquifke  defcription  of  pa- 
radife.  I  here  call  Addifon,  Pope,  Kent,  &c.  the  Champions  of  this  true  tafte, 
bccaufe  they  abfolutely  brought  it  into  execution.  The  beginning  therefore  of 
an  aclaal  reformation  may  be  fixed  at  the  time  when  the  Spectator  firft  appeared. 
The  reader  will  rind  an  excellent  chapter  upon  this  fubjecl  in  the  Pleafures  of 
the  Imagination,  publifhed  in  N°.  414  of  the  Spectator;  and  alfo  another 
paper  written  by  the  fame  hand,  N°.  447  ;  but  perhaps  nothing  went  further  to- 
wards deftroying  the  abfurd  tafte  of  clipp'd  evergreens  than  the  fine  ridicule  upon 
them  in. the  17 3d  Guardian,  written  by  Mr.  Pope. 

It  may  not  be  amifs  to  inform  the  reader  in  this  place,  that  the  ht/iory  of 
modern  Gardening,  of  which  the  nature  of  didactic  poetry  would  admit  here  only 
an  epifodical  (ketch,  will  fhortly  appear  in  a  more  extenfive  and  methodical 
form,  written  with  that  peculiar  tafte  and  fpjrit  which  characterizes  the  pen  of 
Mr.  Walpole. 


32 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 


And  lights  them  to  deflrudion ;  the  fierce  blaze 

Sweeps  thro'  each  kindred  Vifta ;  *  Groves  to  Groves 

Nod  their  fraternal  farewell,  and  expire. 

And  now,  elate  with  fair-earn'd  victory, 

The  Bard  retires,  and  on  the  Bank  of  Thames  510 

Erects  his  flag  of  triumph  ;  wild  it  waves 

In  verdant  fplendor,  and  beholds,  and  hails 

The  King  of  Rivers,  as  he  rolls  along. 

KENT  is  his  bold  aflbciate,  KENT  who  felt 

The  pencil's  power:  -j-  but,  fir'd  by  higher  forms  515 

Of  Beauty,  than  that  pencil  knew  to  paint, 

Work'd  with  the  living  hues  that  Nature  lent, 

And  realiz'd  his  Landfcapes.     Generous  He, 

Who 

*  See  Mr.  Pope's  Epiftle  on  falfe  fade,  infcrib^d  to  the  Earl  of  Burlington. 
Few  readers,  I  fuppofe,  need  be  informed  that  this  line  alludes  to  the  following 
Couplet : 

Grove  nods  to  Grove,  each  alley  has  a  brother, 
And  half  the  platform  juft  reflects  the  other. 

f  It  is  faid  that  Mr.  Kent  frequently  declared  he  caught  his  tafte  in  garden- 
ing from  reading  the  picturefque  defcripnons  of  Spenfcr.  However  this  may  be 
the  defigns  which  he  made  for  the  worki>  of  that  poet,  are  an  inconteftiblc  proof 
that  they  had  no  effedl  upon  his  executive  powers  as  a  painter. 


THE     ENGLISH    GARDEN.  3,3 

Who  gave  to  Painting,  what  the  wayward  Nymph 

Refus'd  her  Votary,  thofe  Elyfian  fcenes,  520 

Which  would  me  emulate,  her  daring  hand 

Mufl  lavifh  all  its  energy  fublime. 

On  thee  too,  SOUTH  COTE,  mall  the  Mufe  beftow 

No  vulgar  praife  :  for  thou  to  humblefl  things 

Could'ft  give  ennobling  beauties ;  deck'd  by  thee,  525. 

*  The  fimple  Farm  eclips'd  the  Garden's  pride^ 

Ev'n  as  the  virgin  blufh  of  innocence, 

The  harlotry  of  Art,     Nor,  SHENSTONE,  thou 

Shalt  pafs  without  thy  meed,  thou  fon  of  peace ! 

Who  knew'ft,  perchance,  to  harmonize  thy  mades  530 

Still  fofter  than  thy  fong ;  yet  was  that  fong 

Nor  rude,  nor  inharmonious,  when  attun'd 

To  paftoral  plaint,  or  tale  of  flighted  love.. 

HIM  too,  the  living  leader  of  thy  powers, 

Great  Nature  !  him  the  Mufe  mall  hail  in  notes  535 

Which  antedate  the  praife  true  Genius  claims 

F  From 

*  Mr.  Southcote  was  the  introducer,  or  rather  the  inventor  of  the  Ferme  orn\ 
for  it  may  be  prefumed  that  nothing  more  than  the  term  is  of  French  extraction. 


34  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN, 

From  jufl  Pofterity  ;  Bards  yet  unborn 
Shall  pay  to  BROWN  that  tribute,  fitlieft  paid 
In  ftrains,  the  beauty  of  his  fcenes  infpire. 

Meanwhile,  ye  youths  !  whofe  fympathetic  fouls  540 

Would  tafte  thofe  genuine  charms,  which  faintly  fmile 
In  my  defcriptive  fong,  O  vifit  oft 
The  finifh'd  fcenes,  that  boaft  the  forming  hand 
Of  thefe  creative  Genii !  feel  ye  there 

What  REYNOLDS  felt,  when  firft  the  Vatican  545 

Unbarr'd  her  gates,  and  to  his  raptur'd  eye 
Gave  Raphael's  glories;  feel  what  GARRICK  felt, 
When  firft  he  breath'd  the  foul  of  Shakefpear's  page. 
So  mall  your  Art,  if  call'd  to  grace  a  fcene 
Yet  unadorn'd,  with  tafte  inftinclive  give  550 

Each  grace  appropriate ;  fo  your  active  eye 
Shall  dart  that  glance  prophetic,  which  awakes 
The  flumbring  Wood-nymphs ;  gladly  mall  they  rife 
Oread,  and  Dryad,  from  their  verdurous  beds, 
And  fling  their  foliage,  and  arrange  their  Hems.,  555 


THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN.  35 

As  you,  and  beauty  bid  :  the  Naiad  train, 

Alike  obfequious,  from  a  thoufand  urns 

Shall  pour  their  chryftaline  tide ;  while,  hand  in  hand, 

Vertumnus,  and  Pomona  bring  their  ftores, 

Fruitage,  and  flowers  of  ev'ry  blum,  and  fcent,  560 

Each  varied  feafon  yields ;  to  you  they  bring 

The  fragrant  tribute \  ye,  with  generous  hand, 

DifFufe  the  blefling  wide,  till  Albion  fmile 

One  ample  theatre  of  fylvan  Grace, 


END    OF    THE    FIRST    BOOK. 


BOOK     S 

PubUJhed   by    the  fame 


And  fold  by  J.   DODSLEY,  Pall-Mall,    and  T.  CADELL,  Ik 
the  Strandj  London;  and  J.  TODD,  in  York. 

The  ENGLISH  GARDEN,  Book  the  Second,  Quarto* 
2d  Edition,  Price  2  s. 

CARACTACUS,  a  Dramatic  Poem,  written  on  the  Model 
of  the  Ancient  Greek  Tragedy,  and  lince  altered  for  Repre- 
fentation  at  the  Theatre-  Royal,  Covent-  Garden,  Price  is.  6d._ 

POEMS  by  Mr.  GRAY,  to  which  are  added  MEMOIRS 
of  his  Life  and  Writings,  by  W.  MASON,  Four  Volumes  Oftavo, 
Price  i  os.  in  boards. 

In  the  Prefs,  and  fpe'edily  will  be  pubtified, 

POEMS  by  W.  MASON,  M.  A.  5th  Edition,  Price  55.. 
bound. 


T    H    E 

» 

ENGLISH      GARDEN, 
BOOK     THE     SECOND, 

[  Price  Two  Shillings.  ] 


ADVERTISEMENT. 

TH  E  Author  printed  a  certain  number  of  copies  of 
this  fecond  book  laft  year  to  give  to  his  friends,  in- 
tending at  that  time  to  defer  the  Publication  till  he  had 
completed  the  whole  of  his  plan  in  four  Books.  His  ex- 
perience of  the  fraudulent  Practices  of  certain  Bookfellers 
has  fince  intimated  to  him  the  danger  of  a  Piracy;  and 
therefore  he  has  thought  it  expedient  to  reprint  it,  for  public 
fale.  He  has  alfo  entered  it  (as  the  ad:  directs)  in  Stationers- 
Hall,  in  order  fo  far  to  prevent  a  violation  of  his  property  as 
the  Law  will  permit  him  to  do;  which,  though  it  en- 
courages an  injured  Author  to  profecute,  feems  not  (as  it 
now  ftands)  to  give  him  damages  from  the  delinquent,  ade- 
quate to  the  injury  he  may  fuftain. 


THE 


ENGLISH     GARDEN: 


O       E       M. 


BOOKTHE     SECOND, 


B  Y 


W.      MASON,      M.  A. 


Y    O    R    K: 

Printed  by  A.  WARD  ;  and  fold  by  J.  DODSLEV,  Pall-Mall ;  T.  CADELL, 

in  the  Strand  5    and  H.  DENOYER,    in  Lifle-ftreet,   London ;   aMb 

by  J.  TODD,  in  Stonegate,  York, 

MJDCC.LXXVII, 


THE 

ENGLISH      GARDEN. 

BOOK     THE     SECOND. 

HA  I L  to  the  Art,  that  teaches  Wealth  and  Pride 
How  to  pofTefs  their  wifh,  the  world's  applaufe, 
Unmix t  with  blame !  that  bids  Magnificence 
Abate  its  meteor  glare,  and  learn  to  mine 
Benevolently  mild ;  like  her,  the  Queen  5 

Of  Night,  who  failing  thro'  autumnal  fides, 
Gives  to  the  bearded  product  of  the  plain 
Her  ripening  luftre,  lingering  as  me  rolls, 
And  glancing  cool  the  falutary  ray 

Which  fills  the  fields  with  plenty*.     Hail  that  Art  10 

A  Ye 


*  This  fimile,  founded  on  the  vulgar  error  concerning  the  Harveft  Moon, 
however  falfe  in  philofophy,  may,  it  is  hoped,  be  ad.mitted  in  poet  y. 


2  THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN. 

Yc  fwains !  for,  hark  !  with  lowings  glad,  your  herds, 
proclaim  its  influence,  wandering  o'er  the  lawns 
Reitor'd  to  them  and  Nature ;  now  no  more 
Shall  Fortune's  Minion  rob  them  of  their  right, 
Or  round  his  dull  domain  with  lofty  wall  15 

Oppofe  their  jocund  prefence.     Gothic  Pomp 
Frowns  and  retires,  his  proud  behefts  are  fcorn'd^ 
Now  Tafte  infpir'd  by  Truth  exalts  her  voice, 
And  fhe  is  heard.     "  Oh  let  not  man  mifdeem, 
"  Waile  is  not  Grandeur,  Fafhion  ill  fupplies  210 

"  My  facred  place,  and  Beauty  fcorns  to  dwell 
"  Where  Ufe  is  exil'd."     At  the  awful  found 
The  terrace  finks  fpontaneous;  on  the  green, 
Broider'd  with  crifped  knots,  the  toniile  yews 
Wither  and  fall ;  the  fountain  dares  no  more.  25 

To  fling  its  wafted  cryftal  thro'  the  fky, 
But  pours  falubrious  o'er  the  parched  lawn* 
Rills  of  fertility.     Oh  beft  of  Arts 
That  works  this  happy  change  !  true  Alchymy,, 
Beyond  the  Roficrufian  boaft,  that  turns  30 

Deformity 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  3 

Deformity  to  grace,  expence  to  gain, 

And  pleas'd  returns  to  Earth's  maternal  lap 

The  long-loft  {tores  of  AMALTHEA'S  horn. 

When  fuch  the  theme,  the  Poet  fmiles  fecure 
Of  candid  audience,  and  with  touch  afTur'd  ^5 

Refumes  his  reed  ASCR^EAN;  eager  he 
To  ply  its  warbling  flops  of  various  note 
In  Nature's  caufe,  that  Albion's  liftening  youths, 
Inform'd  erewhile  to  fcorn  the  long-drawn  lines 
Of  ftraight  formality,  alike  may  fcorn  40 

Thofe  quick,  acute,  perplex'd,  and  tangled  paths, 
That,  like  the  fnake  crufh'd  by  the  fharpen'd  fpade, 
Writhe  in  convulfive  torture,  and  full  oft, 
Thro'  many  a  dank  and  unfunn'd  labyrinth, 
Miflead  our  flep ;  till  giddy,  fpent,  and  foil'd,  45 

We  reach  the  point  where  firft  our  race  began. 
Thefe  Fancy  priz'd  erroneous,  what  time  Tafte, 
An  infant  yet,  firft  join'd  her  to  deftroy 
The  meafur'd  pilatform ;  into  falfe  extremes 

A  3  What 


4  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

What  marvel  if  they  flray'd,  as  yet  unfkill'd  5° 

To  mark  the  form  of  that  peculiar  curve,. 

Alike  averfe  to  crooked  and  to  ftraight, 

Where  fweet  Simplicity  refides  -,  which  Grace 

And  Beauty  call  their  own  ;  whofe  lambent  flow 

Charms  us  at  once  with  fymmetry  and  eafe.  55 

'Tis  Nature's  curve,  inflindively  (he  bids 

Her  tribes  of  Being  trace  it.     Down  the  flope 

Of  yon  wide  field,  fee,  with  its  gradual  fweep, 

The  ploughing  fleers  conduct  their  fallow  ridge ; 

The  peafant,  driving  thro'  each  fhadowy  lane  60 

His  team,  that  bends  beneath  th'  incumbent  weight 

Of  laughing  CERES,,  marks  it  with  his  wheel ;. 

At  night,  and  morn,  the  milkmaid's  carelefs  ftep 

Has,  thro'  yon  pafture  green,  from  flile  to  ftile, 

Impreft  a  kindred  curve ;  the  fcudding  hare  65 

Draws  to  her  dew-fprent  feat,  o'er  thymy  heaths, 

A  path  as  gently  waving ;  mark  them  well  j 

Compare,  pronounce,  that,  varying  but  in  iize,. 

Their  forms  are  kindred  all ;  go  then,  convinc'd 

That 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  5 

That  Art's  unerring  rule  is  only  drawn  70 

From  Nature's  facred  fource ;  a  rule  that  guides 

Her  ev'ry  toil ;  or,  if  me  fhape  the  path, 

Or  fcoop  the  lawn,  or,  gradual,  lift  the  hill. 

For  not  alone  to  that  embellim'd  walk, 

Which  leads  to  ev.'ry  beauty  of  the  fcene,.  75 

It  yields  a  grace,  but  fp reads  its  influence  wide, 

Prefcribes  each  form  of  thicket,  copfe,  or  wood, 

Confines  the  rivulet,  and  fpreads  the  lake.. 

Yet  mall  this  graceful  line  forget  to  pleafe,, 
If  border'd  clofe  by  fidelong  parallels,.  80 

Nor  duly  mixt  with  thofe  oppoling  curves 
That  give  the  charm  of  contrail.     Vainly  Tafte 
Draws  thro'  the  grove  her  path  in  eafieft  bend,, 
If,  on  the  margin  of  its  woody  fides,. 

The  meafur'd  greenfward  waves  in  kindred  flow;.  85 

Oft  let  the  turf  recede,  and  oft  approach, 
With  varied  breadth,  now  fmk  into  the  ihade, 
Now  to  the  fun  its  verdant  bofom  bare. 

As 


6  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

As  vainly  wilt  thou  lift  the  gradual  hill 

To  meet  thy  right-hand  view,  if,  to  the  left,  9© 

An  equal  hill  afcends ;  in  this,  and  all 

Be  free,  be  various,   as  is  Nature's  felf. 

For  in  her  wildnefs  is  there  oft  an  art, 
Or  feeming  art,  which,  by  pofition  apt, 

Arranges  fhapes  unequal,  fo  to  fave  95 

That  correfpondent  poize,  which  unpreferv'd 
Would  mock  our  gaze  with  airy  vacancy. 
Yet  fair  Variety,  with  all  her  powers, 
Affiils  the  Balance  -,  'gainft  the  barren  crag 
She  lifts  the  paftur'd  flope;  to  diftant  hills  joe 

Oppofes  neighb'ring  (hades ;  and,  central  oft, 
Relieves  the  flatnefs  of  the  lawn,  or  lake, 
With  ftudded  tuft,  or  iiland.     So  to  poize 
Her  objects,  mimic  Art  may  oft  attain  ; 
She  rules  the  foreground  -,  me  can  fwell  or  fink  105 

Its  furface  j  here  her  leafy  fcreen  oppofe, 
And  there  withdraw ;  here  part  the  varying  greens, 

And 


THEENGLISH    GARDEN.  7 

And  croud  them  there  in  one  promifcuous  gloom, 
As  bell  befits  the  Genius  of  the  fcene, 

Him  then,  that  fov'reign  Genius,  Monarch  fble,  1 1,0 

Who,  from  creation's  primal  day,  derives 
His  right  divine  to  this  his  rural  throne, 
Approach  with  meet  obeifance  j  at  his  feet 
Let  our  aw'd  art  fall  proftrate.     They  of  Ind,. 

The  Tartar  tyrants,  Tamerlane's  proud  race,  115 

' 
Or  they  in  Perfia  thron'd,  who  make  the  rod 

Of  power  o'er  myriads  of  enervate  Haves, 

Expecl:  not  humbler  homage  to  their  pride 

Than  does  this  fylvan  Defpot  *.     Yet  to  thofe 

Who  do  him  loyal  fervice,  who  revere  I2Q 

His  dignity,  nor  aim,  with  rebel  arms,, 

At  lawlefs  ufurpation,  is  he  found. 

Patient 


*  See  Book  the  Firft,  line  84.     See  alfo  Mr.  Pope's  Epiftle  to  Lord  Burling- 
ton,  line  57, 

Confult  the  Genius  of  the  place  in  all,  &c. 

A  fundamental  rule,  which  is  here  further  enlarged  upon  from  line  126. 


&  THE     ENGLISH    GARDEN.* 

Patient  and  placable,  receives  well  pleas'd 

Their  tributary  treafures,  nor  difdains 

To  blend  them  with  his  own  internal  flore.  125 

Stands  he  in  blank  and  defolated  flate, 
Where  yawning  crags  disjointed,  fharp,  uncouth, 
Involve  him  with  pale  horror  ?  in  the  clefts 
Thy  welcome  fpade  mall  heap  that  foft'ring  mould 
Whence  fapling  Oaks  may  Tpring ;  whence  clurVring  crouds 
Of  early  underwood  mail  veil  their  fides,  131 

And  teach  their  rugged  heads  above  the  made 
To  tow'r  in  fhapes  romantic  :  Nor,  around 
Their  flinty  roots,  mall  ivy  fpare  to  hang 
Its  gadding  tendrils,  nor  the  mofs-grown  turf,  135 

With  wild  thyme  fprinkled,  there  refufe  to  fpread 
Its  verdure.     Awful  frill,  yet  not  auflere, 
The  Genius  flands ;  bold  is  his  port,  and  wild, 
But  not  forlorn,  nor  favage.     On  fome  plain 
Of  tedious  length,  fay,  are  his  flat  limbs   laid?  140 

Thy  hand  mail  lift  him  from  the  dreary  couch, 

Pillowing 


THE     ENGLISH    GARDEN. 

Pillowing  his  head  with  fwelling  hillocks  green, 

While,  all  around,  a  foreft-curtain  fpreads 

Its  waving  folds,  and  blefTes  his  repofe. 

What,  if  perchance  in  fome  prolific  foil,  145 

Where  Vegetation  ftrenuous,  uncontroll'd, 

Has  pufh'd  her  pow'rs  luxuriant,  he  now  pines 

For  air  and  freedom  ?  foon  thy  fturdy  axe, 

Amid  its  intertwifled  foliage  driv'n, 

Shall  open  all, his  glades,  and  ingrefs  give 

To  the  bright  darts  -of  day ;  his  prifon'd  rills, 

That  darkling  crept  amid  the  ruftling  brakes, 

Shall  glitter  as  they  glide,  and  his  dank  caves, 

Free  to  falubrious  Zephyrs,  ceafe  to  weep. 

Meanwhile  his  fhadowy  pomp  he  ftill  retains, 

His  Dryads  ftill  attend  him ;  they  alone 

Of  race  plebeian  banifh'd,  who  to  croud 

Not  grace  his  flate,  their  boughs  obtrufive  flung. 

But  chief  confult  him  ere  thou  dar'ft  decide 
Th'  appropriate  bounds  of  Pleafure,  and  of  Ufe  j  160 

B  For 


io         THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

For  Pleafure,  lawlefs  robber,  oft  invades 

Her  neighbour's  right,  and  turns  to  idle  wafte 

Her  treafures  j  curb  her  then  in  fcanty  bounds, 

Whene'er  the  fcene  permits  that  juft  reflraint : 

The  curb  reftrains  not  Beauty  j  fo v' reign  me  165 

Still  triumphs,  ftill  unites  each  fubjecl  realm, 

And  bleiTes  both  impartial.     Why  then  fear 

Left,  if  thy  fence  contract  the  fhaven  lawn, 

It  does  her  wrong  ?  She  points  a  thoufand  ways, 

And  each  her  own,  to  cure  the  needful  ill.  170 

Where'er  it  winds,  and  freely  muft  it  wind, 

She  bids,  at  ev'ry  bend,  thick-blofTom'd  tufts 

Croud  their  inwoven'd  tendrils ;  is  there  ftill 

A  void  ?  Lo  Lebanon  her  cedar  lends  ! 

Lo  all  the  ftately  progeny  of  Pines  17^ 

Come,  with  their  floating  foliage  richly  robed, 

To  fill  that  void !  meanwhile  acrofs  the  mead 

The  wand'ring  flocks  that  browfe  between  the  mades. 

Seem  oft  to  pafs  their  bounds ;  the  dubious  eye 

Decides  not  if^they  crop  the  mead  or  lawn.  180 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  n 

Browfe  then  your  fill,  fond  Forefters !  to  you 
Shall  fturdy  Labour  quit  his  daily  taik 
Well  pleas'd ;  nor  longer  o'er  "his -ufeiefs  plots 
Dip  in  the  dew  the  fplendor  of  his  fcythe. 
He,  leaning  on  that  fcythe,  with  carols  gay  185 

Salutes  his  fleecy  fubftitutes,  that  rufh 
In  bleating  chace  to  their  delicious  tafk, 
And,  fpreading  o'er  the  plain,  with  eager  teeth 
Devour  it  into  verdure.     Browfe  your  fill 
Fond  Forefters!  the  foil  that  you  enrich  i9« 

Shall  ftill  fupply  your  morn  and  evening  meal 
With  choiceft  delicates  ;  whether  you  choofe 
The  vernal  blades,  that  rife  with  feeded  flem 
Of  hue  purpureal ;  or  the  clover  white, 
That  in  a  fpiked  ball  colle&s  its  fweets  ;  195 

Or  trembling  fefcue  :  ev'ry  fav'rite  herb 
Shall  court  your  taile,  ye  harmlefs  epicures! 
Meanwhile  permit  that  with  unheeded  flep 
I  pafs  befide  you,  nor  let  idle  fear 

Spoil  your  repaft,  for  know  the  lively  fcene,  200 

B  2  That 


12         THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN;' 

That  you  ftill  more  enliven,  to  my  foul 
Darts  infpiration,  and  impells  the  fong 
To  roll  in  bolder  defcant  y  while,  within*. 
A  gleam  of  happinefs  primaeval  feems 
To  fnatch  me  back  to  joys  my  nature  claim'd,  205 

Ere  vice  defil'd,  ere  ilavery  funk  the  world; 
And  all  was  faith  and  freedom  :  Then  was  man 
Creation's  king,  yet  friend;  and  all  that  browfe 
The  plain,  or  ikim  the  air,  or  dive  the  flood, 
Paid  him  their  liberal  homage  ;  paid  unaw'd  210 

In  love  accepted,   fympathetic  love 
That  felt  for  all,  and  bleft  them  with  its  fmiles. 
Then,  nor  the  curling  horn  had  learn 'd  to  found. 
The  favage  fong  of  chace ;  the  barbed  maft 
Had  then  no  poifon'd  point ;  nor  thou,  fell  tube  !  zi$ 

Whofe  iron  entrails  hide  the  fulphurous  blaft, . 
Satanic  engine,  knew'ft  the  ruthlefs  power 
Of  thundering  death  around  thee.     Then  alike 
Were  ye  innocuous  thro'  your  ev'ry  tribe, . 
Or  brute,  or  reptile >  nor  by  rage  or  guile  +.  220 

Had 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  13 

Had  giv'n  to  injur'd  man  his  only  plea 

(And  that  the  tyrant's  plea*)  to  work  your  harm. 

InflincT:,  alas,  like  wayward  Reafon,  now 

Veers  from  its  pole.     There  was  a  golden  time 

When  each  created  being  kept  its  fphere  22*5 

Appointed,  nor  infring'd  its  neighbour's  right. 

The  flocks,  to  whom  the  graffy  lawn  was  giv'n, 

Fed  on  its  blades  contented ;  now  they  crufh 

Each  fcion's  tender  moots,  and,  at  its  birth, 

Deftroy,  what,  fav'd  from  their  remorfelefs  tooth,  23© 

Had  been  the  tree  of  Jove.     Ev'n  while  I  (ing, 

Yon  wanton  lamb  has  cropt  the  woodbine's  pride, 

That  bent  beneath  a  full-blown  load  of  fweets, 

And  fill'd  the  air  with  perfume;  fee  it  falls-;- 

The  bufy  bees,  with  many  a  murmur  fad,  235 

Hang  o'er  their  honied  lofs.     Why  is  it  thus  ? 

Ah,  why  muft  Art  defend  the  friendly  fhades 

Sh&rear'd  to  fhield  you  from  the  noontide  beam£ 

Traitors, 

*  Alluding  to  Milton. 

So  fpake  the  Fiend,.. and'  with'  necejjtty^ 

The  tyrant's  plea,  excus'd  his  devilifli  deeds. 

Paradife  Loft,  book  iv.  line  393. 


i4         THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

Traitors,  forbear  to  wound  them  !  fay,  ye  fools ! 

Does  your  rich  herbage  fail  ?  do  acrid  leaves  240 

Afford  you  daintier  food  ?  I  plead  in  vain ; 

For  now  the  father  of  the  fleecy  troop 

Begins  his  devaftation,  and  his  ewes 

Croud  to  the  fpoil,  with  imitative  zeal. 

' 

Since  then,  conftrain'd,  we  muft  expel  the  flock  245 

From  where  .our  faplings  rife,  our  flow'rets  bloom, 
The  fong  mail  teach,  in  clear  preceptive  notes, 
How  beft  to  frame  the  Fence,  and  beft  to  hide 
All  its  forefeen  defects  ;  defective  ftill, 

Tho'  hid  with  happieft  art.     Ingrateful  fure  250 

When  fuch  the  theme,  befeems  the  Poet's  taik : 
Yet  muft  he  try,  by  modulation  meet 
Of  varied  cadence,  and  felected  phrafe, 
ExacT:  yet  free,  without  inflation  bold, 

To  dignify  the  fubj,ecl:;  try  to  form  255 

That  magic  fympathy  of  fenfe  with  found 
Which  pi&ures  all  it  fings ;  while  Grace  awakes 

At 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.          15 

At  each  blefl  touch,  and,  on  the  lowlieft  things, 

Scatters  her  rainbow  hues. — The  firft  and  beft 

Is  that,  which,  finking  from  our  eye,  divides,  260 

Yet  feems  not  to  divide  the  {haven  lawn, . 

And  parts  it  from  the  pafture;  for  if  there 

Sheep  feed,  or  dappled  deer,  their  wandering  teeth 

Will,  fmoothly  as  the  fcythe,  the  herbage  fhave, 

And  leave  a  kindred  verdure.     This  to  keep  265 

Heed  that  thy  labourer  fcoop  the  trench  with  care  5. 

For  fome  there  are  who  give  their  fpade  repofe, 

When  broad  enough  the  perpendicular  fides 

Divide,  and  deep  defcend :  To  form  perchance 

Some  vulgar  drain,  fuch  labour  may  fuffice,  .      27© 

Yet  not  for  beauty  :  here  thy  range  of  wall 

Mufl  lift  its  height  erect,  and,  o'er  its  head. 

A  verdant  veil  of  fwelling  turf  expand, 

While  fmoothly  from  its  bafe  with  gradual  eafe 

The  pafture  meets  its  level,  at  that  point  27.5 

Which  befl  deludes  our  eye,  and  beft  conceals 

Thy  lawn's  brief  limit.     Down  fo  fmooth  a  ilope 

The 


16          T/HE    ENGLISH    GARDEN. 

The  fleecy  foragers  will  gladly  browfe; 

The  velvet  herbage  free  from  weeds  .obfcene 

Shall  fpread  its  equal  car.pet,  .and  .the  trench  280 

Be  pafture  to  its  bafe.     Thus  form  thy  fence 

Of  {lone,  for  {lone  alone,  and  pil'd  on  high, 

Beft  curbs  the  nimble  deer,  that  love  to  range 

Unlimited  ;  but  where  tame  heifers  feed, 

Qr  innocent  meep,  an  humbler  mound  will  ferve  285 

Unlin'd  with  {lone,  and  but  a  green-fwerd  trench. 

Here  midway  down,  .upon  the  nearer  bank 

Plant  thy  thick  row  of  thorns,  and,  to  defend 

Their  infant  moots,  beneath,  on  oaken  flakes, 

Extend  a  rail  of  elm,  fecurely  arm'd  290 

With  fpiculated  pailing,  in  fuch  fort 

As,  round  fome  citadel,  the  engineer 

Directs  his  {harp  floccade.     But  when  the  {hoots 

Condenfe,  and  interweave  their  prickly  boughs 

Impenetrable,  then  withdraw  their  guard,  295 

They've  done  their  office ;  fcorn  thou  to  retain,. 

What  frowns  like  military  art,  in  fcenes, 

Where 


THE    ENGLISH     GARDEN.  17 

Where  Peace  mould  fmile  perpetual.     Thefe  deftroy'd, 

Make  it  thy  vernal  care,  when  April  calls 

New  fhoots  to  .birth,  to  trim  the  hedge  aflaunt,  300 

And  mould  it  to  the  roundnefs  of  the  mound, 

Itfelf  a  fhelving  hill ;  nor  need  we  here 

The  rule  or  line  precife,  a  cafual  glance 

Suffices  to  direct  the  carelefs  Iheers. 

Yet  learn,  that  each  variety  of.  ground  305 

Claims  its  peculiar  barrier.     When  the  fofs    • 
Can  fleal  tranfverfe  before  the  central  eye, 
'Tis  duly  drawn ;  but,  up  yon  neighb'ring  hill 
That  fronts  the  lawn  direct,  if  labour  delve 
The  yawning  chafm,  'twill  meet,  not  crofs  our  view;       310 
No  foliage  can  conceal,  no  curve  correct 
The  deep  deformity.     And  yet  thou  mean'ft 
Up  yonder  hill  to  wind  thy  fragrant  way, 
And  wifely  dofl  thou  mean ;  for  its  broad  eye 
Catches  the  fudden  charms  of  laughing  vales,  *  i  r 

Rude  rocks  and  headlong  ftreams,  and  antique  oaks 

-     ! 

C  Loft 


iS          THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN, 

Loft  in  a  wild  horizon ;  yet  the  path 

That  leads  to  all  thefe  charms  experts  defence  : 

Here  then  fufpend  the  fportfman's  hempen  toils, 

And  ftretch  their  memes  on  the  light  fupport  320 

Of  hazel  plants,  or  draw  thy  lines  of  wire 

In  fivefold  parallel  3  no  danger  then 

That  fheep  invade  thy  foliage.     To  thy  herds,, 

And  paftur'd  fteeds  an  opener  fence  oppofe,. 

Form'd  by  a  triple  row  of  cordage  ftrong,.  325 

Tight  drawn  the  flakes  between. .    The  fimple  deer 

Is  curb'd  by  mimic  fhares ;  the  flendereft  twine  * 

(if 

*  Linnaeus  makes  this  a  chara&eriftical  property  of  the  fallow  deer;  his  words 
are,  arcetur  filo  horizontall.  (See  Syft.  Nat.  Art.  Dama.)  I  have  fometimes  feen. 
feathers  tied  to  this  line  for  greater  fecurity,  though  perhaps  unnecefTarily.  They 
feem  however  to  have  been  in  ufe  in  Virgil's  time  from  the  following  paflage 
in  the  Georgicks : 

Stant  circumfufa  pruinis 

Corpora  magna  bourn  :  confertoque  agmine  cervi 
Torpent  mole  nova,  et  fummis  vix  cornibus  extant* 
Hos  non  emifiis  canibus,  non  caflibus  ullis, . 
Punicecsve  agitant  pavtdos  formidine  pennee : 
Sed  fruftra  oppofitum  trudentes  pe&ore  montem 
Cominus  obtruncant  ferro.  GEORG.  lib.  3.  v.  368. 

Ruaeus's  comment  on  the  fifth  line  is  as  follows :  linea^  out  funiculus  erat, 
cut  Plumx  impKcabantur  variis  t'mfttE  colortbus,  ad  feras  terrcndas,  at  in  retia 
agerentur.  And  a  fimile,  which  Virgil  ufes  in  the  twelfth  book  of  the 
jEneid,  v.  749,  and  another  in  Lucan,  Pharf.  lib.  4.  v.  437,  clearly  prove  that 
the  teamed  Jefuit  has  rightly  explained  the  paffage* 


THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN.          19 

(If  fages  err  not)  that  the  Beldame  fpins, 

When  by  her  wintry  lamp  {he  plies  her  wheel, 

Arrefts  his  courage ;  his  impetuous  hoof,  330 

Broad  chefl,  and  branching  antlers  nought  avail ; 

In  fearful  gaze  he  ftands ;  the  nerves  that  bore 

His  bounding  pride  o'er  lofty  mounds  of  flone, 

A  fingle  thread  defies.     Such  force  has  Fear, 

When  vifionary  Fancy  wakes  the  fiend,  335 

In  brute,  or  man,  moft  powerful  when  moil  vain. 

Still  inuft  the  fwain,  who  fpreads  thefe  corded  guards, 
Expect  their  fwift  decay.     The  noontide  beams 
Relax,  the  nightly  dews  contract  the  twift. 
Oft  too  the  coward  hare,  then  only  bold  340 

When  mifchief  prompts,  or  wintry  famine  pines, 
Will  quit  her  rufh-grown  form,  and  fleal,  with  ear 
Up-prick'd,  to  gnaw  the  toils  -,  and  oft  the  ram 
And  jutting  fteer  drive  their  entangling  horns 
Thro'  the  frail  memes,  and,  by  many  a  chafm,  345 

Proclaim  their  hate  of  thraldom.     Nothing  brooks 

C  2  Confinement, 


*o          THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN. 

Confinement,  fave  degenerate  Man  alone, 

Who  deems  a  monarch's  fmile  can  gild  his  chains. 

Tir'd  then,  perchance;  of  nets  that  daily  claim 

Thy  renovating  labour,  thou  wilt  form,  350 

With  elm  and  oak,  a  rufKc  baluftrade 

Of  firmeft  juncture ;  happy  could  thy  toil 

Make  it  as  fair  as  firm  ;   but  vain  the  wim, 

Aim  not  to  grace,  but  hide  its  formal  line. 

. 

Let  thofe,  who  weekly,  from  the  city's  fmoke,  355 

Croud  to  each  neighb'ring  hamlet,  there  to  hold 
Their  dufty  fabbath,   tip  with  gold  and  red 
The  milk-white  palifades,  that  Gothic  now, 
And  now  Chinefe,  now  neither,  and  yet  both, 
Checquer  their  trim  domain.     Thy  fy Ivan  fcene  360 

Would  fade,  indignant  at  the  tawdry  glare. 
1 

Come  then,  thou  handmaid  of  that  fifter  Mufe  !'. 
Who,  when  (he  calls  to  life  and- local  form 
Her  mind's  creation,  on  thy  aid  depends 

For 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN,  21 

For  half  her  mimic  power;   fweet  Colouring!  come,         365 
Lend  thy  dsluiive  help,  and  pleas'd  defcend 
Ev'n  to  thy  meaneft  office ;  grind,  compound* 
Decide,  what  kindred  hues  may  fureft  veil 
The  barrier  rude,  and  lofe  it  in  the  lawn. 

She  comes,  and  firft,  with  fnowy  cerufe,  joins  370 

The  ochr'ous  atoms  that  chalybeate  rills 
Warn  from  their  mineral  channels,  as  they  glide, 
In  flakes  of  earthly  gold ;  with  thefe  unites 
A  tinge  of  blue,  or  that  deep  azure  gray, 
Form'd  from  the  calcin'd  fibres  of  the  vine;  375 

And,  if  flie  blends,  with  fparing  hand  me  blends 
That  bafe  metallic  drug  then  only  priz'd, 
When,  aided  by.  the  ,humid  touch  of  Time, 
It  gives  a  Nero's  or  fome  tyrant's  cheek, 

Its  precious  canker.     Thefe  with  fluent  oil  380 

Attemper'd,  on  thy  length'ning  rail  mall  fpread 
That  fober  olive-green  which  nature  wears 
Ev'n  on  her  vernal  bofom  y  nor  mlfdeenv 

For 


12          THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN. 

For  that,  illumin'd  with  the  noontideoay, 

She  boafts  a  brighter  garment,  therefore  Art  385 

A  livelier  verdure  to  thy  aid  mould  bring. 

Know  when  that  Art,  with  ev'ry  varied  hue, 

Portrays  the  living  landfcape  -,  when  her  hand 

Commands  the  canvafs  plane  to  glide  with  flreams, 

To  wave  the  foliage,  or  with  flowers  to  breathe,  390 

Cool  olive  tints,  in  foft  gradation  laid, 

Create  the  general  herbage  :  there  alone, 

Where  darts,  with  vivid  force,  the  ray  fupreme, 

Unfullied  verdure  reigns ;  and  tells  our  eye 

Jt  ftole  its  bright  reflection  from  the  fun.  39$ 

« 
The  paint  is  fpread ;  the  barrier  pales  retire, 

Snatch'd,  as  by  magic,  from  the  gazer's  view. 

So,  when  the  fable  enfign  of  the  night, 

Unfurl'd  by  mitt-impelling  Eurus,  veils 

The  laft  red  radiance  of  declining  day,  400 

Each  fcatter'd  village,  and  each  holy  fpire 

That  deck'd  the  diflance  of  the  fylvan  fcene, 

Are 


THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN.         23 

Are  funk  in  fudden  gloom:  The  plodding  hind, 

That  homeward  hies,  kens  not  the  chearing  fite 

Of  his  calm  cabbin,  which,  a  moment  pall,  40$ 

Stream'd  from  its  roof  an  azure  curl  of  fmoke. 

Beneath  the  flickering  coppice,  and  gave  fign 

Of  warm  domefUc  welcome  from  his  toil. 

Nor  is  that  Cot,  of  which  fond  Fancy  draws 
This  cafual  picture,  alien  from  our  theme.  41  OR 

Revifit  it  at  morn  ;  its  opening  latch,, 
Tho'  Penury  and  Toil  within  refide, 
Shall  pour  thee  forth  a  youthful  progeny 
Glowing  with  health  and  beauty:   (fuch  the  dowec 
Of  equal  heav'n)  fee,  how  the  ruddy  tribe  415 

Throng  round  the  threfhold,  and,  with  vacant  gaze,. 
Salute  thee;  call  the  loiterers  into  ufe,, 
And  form  of  thefe  thy  fence,  the  living  fence 
That  graces  what  it  guards.     Thou  think'ft,  perchance;, 
That,  fkill'd  in  nature's  heraldry,  thy  art  420 

Has,  in  the  Jimits  of  yon  fragrant  tuft, 

Marfhaird 


24          THE    ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

Marfhaird  each  rofe,  that  to  the  eye  of  June 

Spreads  its  peculiar  crimfon ;  do  not  err, 

The  lovelieft  ftill  is  wanting;  the  frefh  rofe 

Of  Innocence,  it  blofibms  on  their  cheek,  425 

And,  lo,  to  thee  they  bear  it !  driving  each, 

In  panting  race,  who  firft  mall  reach  the  lawn, 

Proud  to  be  call'd  thy  fhepherds.     Want,  alas  ! 

Has  o'er  their  little  limbs  her  livery  hung, 

In  many  a  tatter'd  fold,  yet  ftill  thofe  limbs  430 

Are  fhapely  ;  their  rude  locks  ftart  from  their  brow, 

Yet,  on  that  open  brow,  its  deareft  throne, 

Sits  fweet  Simplicity.     Ah,  clothe  the  troop 

In  fuch  a  rulfet  garb  as  heft  befits 

Their,  paftoral  office;  let  the  leathern  fcrip  435 

Swing  at  their  fide,  tip  thou  their  crook  with  fteel, 

And  braid  their  hat  with  rumes,  then  to  each 

Aflign  his  ftation ;  at  the  clofe  of  eve, 

Be  it  their  care  to  pen  in  hurdled  cote 

The  flock,  and  when  the  matin  prime  returns,  440 

Their  care  to  fet  them  free ;  yet  watching  ftill 

The 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.          25 

The  liberty  they  lend,  oft  {halt  thou  hear 

Their  whittle  flirill,  and  oft  their  faithful  dog 

Shall  with  obedient  barkings  fright  the  flock 

From  wrong  or  robbery.     The  livelong  day  '445 

Meantime  rolls  lightly  o'er  their  happy  heads ; 

They  bafk  on  funny  hillocks,  or  defport 

In  ruftic  paftime,  while  that  lovelieft  grace, 

Which  only  lives  in  action  unreftrain'd, 

To  ev'ry  fimple  gefture  lends  a  charm.  450 

Pride  of  the  year,  purpureal  Spring!  attend, 
And,  in  the  cheeks  of  thefe  fweet  innocents 
Behold  your  beauties  pictur'd.     As  the  cloud 
That  weeps  its  moment  from  thy  fapphire  heav'n, 
They  frown  with  caufelefs  forrow  -,  as  the  beam,  455 

Gilding  that  cloud,  with  caufelefs  mirth  they  fmile. 
Stay,  pitying  Time  !  prolong  their  vernal  blifg. 
Alas  !  ere  we  can  note  it  in  our  fong, 
Comes  manhood's  feverim  fummer,  chill'd  full  foon 

D  B7 


26         THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN. 

By  cold  autumnal  care,    till  wintry  age  46° 

Sinks  in  the  frore  feverity  of  death. 

Ah!  who,    when  fuch  life's  momentary  dream,. 
Would  mix  in  hireling  ienates,.  flrenuous  there 
To  crufh  the  venal  Hydra,  whofe  fell  crefts 
Rife  with  recruited  venom  from  the  wound!-  465; 

Who,  for  fo  vain  a  conflict,  would  forego 
Thy  fylvan  haunts,  celeftial  Solitude ! 
Where  felf-improvement,  crown'd  with  felf- con  tent, 
Await  to  blefs  thy  votary.     Nurtur'd  thus 
In  tranquil  groves,  lift'ning  to  nature's  voice,  470 

That  preach'd  from  whifpering  trees,  and  babbling  brooks,., 
A  leffon  feldom  learnt  in  reafon's  fchool, 
The  wife  Sidonian  liv'd  *  :  and,  tho'  the  pefl 
Of  lawlefs  tyranny  around  him  rag'd; 

Tho'  Strato,    great  alone  in  Periia's  gold,,  475 

Uncall'd, 

*  Abdalominus.  The  fa&,  on  which  this  epifode  is  founded,  is  recorded  by 
Diodorus  Siculus,  Plutarch,  Juftin,  and  (^  Curtius  j  the  laft  is  here  chiefly 
followed.  M.  de  Fontenellc  and  the  Abbe  Metaftafio  have  both  of  them  treated 
the  fubje&  dramatically. 


THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN.          27 

Uncall'd,  unhallow'd  by  the  people's  choice, 
Ufurp'd  the  throne  of  his  brave  anceftors ; 
Yet  was  his  foul  all  peace  -,  a  garden's  care 
His  only  thought,  its  charms  his  only  pride. 

But  now  the  conquering  arms  of  Macedon  480 

Had  humbled  Perfia.     Now  Phoenicia's  realm 
Receives  the  Son  of  Ammon ;  at  whofe  fr,own 
Her  tributary  kings  or  quit  their  thrones, 
Or  at  his  fmile  retain  -,  and  Sidon,  now 
Freed  from  her  tyrant,  points  the  Victor's  Hep  483 

To  where  her  rightful  Sov'reign,  doubly  dear 
By  birth  and  virtue,  prun'd  his  garden  grove. 

'Twas  at  that  early  hour,  when  now  the  Sun 
Behind  majeftic  Lebanon's  dark  veil 

Hid  his  afcending  fplendour  -,  yet  thro' each  490 

Her  cedar-vefted  fides,  his  flaunting  beams 
Shot  to  the  ftrand,  and  purpled  all  the  main ; 
Where  Commerce  faw  her  Sidon's  freighted  wealth, 

D  a  With 


28          THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

With  languid  ftreamers,  and  with  folded  fails, 

Float  in  a  lake  of  gold.     The  wind  was  hufh'd;.  495 

And,  to  the  beech,  each  flowly-lifted  wave,. 

Creeping  with  filver  curl,  juft  kift  the  more,. 

And  flept  in  filence.     At  this  tranquil  hour 

Did  Sidon's  fenate;  and  the  Grecian  hoft, 

Led  by  the  conqueror  of  the  world,  approach-  500 

The  fecret  glade  that  veil'd  the  man  of  toil. 

Now  near  the  mountain's  foot  the  chief  arriv'd, 
Where,  round  that  glade,  a  pointed  aloe  fcreen, 
Entwin'd  with  myrtle,  met  in  tangled  brakes, 
That  bar'd  all  entrance,  fave  at  one  low  gate, .  505 . 

Whofe  time- disjointed  arch  with  ivy  chain'd, 
Bad  ftoop  the  warrior  train.     A  pathway  browa 
Led  thro'  the  pafs,  meeting  a  fretful  brook, 
And  wandering  near  its  channel,  while  it  leapt 
O'er  many  a  rocky  fragment, .  where  rude  Art .  510 

Perchance  had  help'd,  but  not  prefcrib'd  its. way;.'. 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.          29 

Clofe  was  the  vale  and  mady  -,  yet,  erelong 
Its  foreft  fides  retiring,    left  a  lawn 
Of  ample  circuit,   where  the  widening  ftream 
Now,  o'er  its  pebbled  channel,  nimbly  tript  515} 

In  many  a  lucid  maze.     From  the  flower'd  verge 
Of  this  clear  rill  now  flray'd  the  devious  path, 
Amid  ambrofial  tufts  where  fpicy  plants,  - 
Weeping  their  perfum'd  tears  of  myrrh,  and  nard,> 
Stood  crown'd  with  Sharon's  rofe;.  or  where,  apart,,          520^ 
The  patriarch  Palm  his  load  of  fugar'd  dates 
Shower'd  plenteous  •,  where  the  Fig,  of  flandard  flrength, 
And  rich  Pomegranate  wrapt,  in  dulcet  pulp,,. 
Their  racy  feeds  j  or  where,  with  golden  fruit 
Mature,  the  Citron  wav'd  its  fplendid  bough;  525, 

Meanwhile  the  lawn  beneath  the  fcatter'd  made 
Spread  its  ferene  extent;   a  ftately  file 
Of  circling  Cyprefs  mark'd  the  diftant  bound. 

Now,  to  the  left,  the  path  afcending  pierc'd* 
A  fmaller  fylvan  theatre,  yet  deck'd  530 

With 


3o         THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN. 

With  more  majeftic  foliage.     Cedars  here, 

Coeval  with  the  fky-crown'd  mountain's  felf, 

Spread  wide  their  giant  arms  ;  whence,  from  a  rock 

Craggy  and  black,  that  feem'd  its  fountain  head, 

The  ftream  fell  headlong ;  yet  ftill  higher  rofe, 

Ev'n  in  th' eternal  fnow  of  Lebanon, 

That  hallow'd  fpring  $  thence,  in  the  porous  earth 

Long  while  ingulph'd,  its  cryftal  weight  here  forc'd 

Its  way  to  light  and  freedom.     Down  it  dafh'd ; 

A  bed  of  native  marble  pure,  receiv'd  540 

The  new-born  Naiad,  and  repos'd  her  wave, 

Till  with  o'er-flowing  pride  it  fkim'd  the  lawn. 

Fronting  this  lake  there  rofe  a  folemn  grot, 
•O'er  which  an  ancient  vine  luxuriant  flung 
Its  purple  clutters,  and  beneath  its  roof  54.5 

An  unhewn  altar.     Rich  Sabaean  gums 
That  altar  pil'd,  and  there  with  torch  of  pine 
The  venerable  Sage,  now  firfl  defcry'd, 
The  fragrant  incenfe  kindled.     Age  had  fhed 

That 


THE    ENGLISH     GARDEN.          3i 

That  duft  of  filver  o'er  his  fable  locks,  550 

Which  fpoke  his  flrength  mature  beyond  its  prime, 
Yet  vigorous  flill,  for  from  his  healthy  cheek 

Time  had  not  cropt  a  rofe,  or  on  his  brow 

* 
One  wrinkling  furrow  plow'd  5  his  eagle  eye 

Had  all  its  youthful  lightning,  and  each  limb  55$ 

The  finewy  flrength  that  toil  demands  and  gives. 

The  warrior  faw  and  paus'd  :  his  nod  withheld 
The  crowd  at  awful  diftance,  where  their  ears, 
In  mute  attention,  drank  the  fage's  prayer. 
"  Parent  of  good  (he  cried)  behold  the  gifts  560 

"  Thy  humble  votary  brings,  and  may  thy  fmile 
"  Hallow  his  cuilom'd  offering.     Let  the  hand 
"  That  deals  in  blood,  with  blood  thy  fhrines  diftain, 
"  Be  mine  this  harmlefs  tribute.     If  it  fpeaks 
"  A  grateful  heart,  can  hecatombs  do  more  ?  565 

"  Parent  of  Good  !  they  cannot.     Purple  Pomp 
"  May  call  thy  prefence  to  a  prouder  fane 
"  Than  this  poor  cave  $  but  will  thy  prefence  there 

"-Be 


S2          THE     ENGLISH    OA.RDEN. 

«'  Be  more  devoutly  felt  ?  Parent  of  Good  ! 

"  It  will  not.    Here  then,  fhall  the  proftrate  heart,  57* 

"  That  deeply  feels  thy  prefence,  lift  its  pray'r  .  — 

"  But  what  has  he  to  afk  who  nothing  needs, 

"  Save,  what  unafk'd,  is,  from  thy  heav'n  of  heav'ns 

"  Giv'n  in  diurnal  good  ?  Yet,  holy  Power  ! 

"  Do  all  that  call  thee  Father  thus  exult  575 

"  In  thy  propitious  prefence  ?  Sidon  finks 

"  Beneath  a  tyrant's  fcourge.     Parent  of  Good! 

"  Oh  free  my  captive  country." — Sudden  here 

He  paus'd  and  figh'd.     And  now,  the  raptur'd  crowd 

Murmur' d  applaufe  :  he  heard,  he  turn'd,  and  faw  580 

The  King  of  Macedon  with  eager  ftep 

Burft  from  his  warrior  phalanx.     From  the  youth, 

Who  bore  its  ftate,  the  conqueror's  own  right  hand 

Snatch'd  the  rich  wreath,  and  bound  it  on  his  brow. 

His  fwift  attendants  o'er  his  flioulders  caft  585 

The  robe  of  empire,  while  the  trumpet's  voice 

Proclaim'd  him  king  of  Sidon.     Stern  he  flood, 

Or,  if  he  fmil'd,  'twas  a  contemptuous  fmile, 

That 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  3j 

That  held  the  pageant  honours  in  difdain. 
Then  burft  the  people's  voice,  in  loud  acclaim,  590 

And  bad  him  be  their  Father.     At  the  word, 
The  honour'd  blood,  that  warm'd  him.,  flufh'd  his  cheek  ; 
His  brow  expanded ;  his  exalted  ftep 
March'd  firmer;  gracioufly  he  bow'd  the  head, 
And  was  the  Sire  they  call'd  him.     "  Tell  me,  King,"     595 
Young  Ammon  cried,  while  o'er  his  bright'ning  form 
He  caft  the  gaze  of  wonder,  "  how  a  foul 
"  Like  thine  could  bear  the  toils  of  Penury  ?" 
"  Oh  grant  me,  Gods!"  he  anfwer'd,  "  fo  to  bear 
*'  This  load  of  Royalty.     My  toil  was  crown'd  600 

<f  With  bleflings  loft  to  Kings ;  yet,  righteous  Powers  ! 

•"  If  to  my  country  ye  transfer  the  boon, 

P 
"  I  triumph  in  the  lofs.     Be  mine  the  chains 

"  That  fetter  Sov'reignty ;  let  Sidon  fmile 

•*«  With,  your  beft  bleffings,  Liberty  and  Peace."  605 

END   OF   THE   SECOND    BOOK,    < 


B     O     O     K     S 

Publifhed  by  the  fame  A  UTHO  R, 

Printed  for,  and  fold  by,  J.  DODSLEY,  Pall-Mail,  and 
T.  CAD  ELL,  in  the  Strand,  London;  and  J.  TODD, 
York. 

The  ENGLISH  GARDEN,  Book  firft,  Quarto,  2d  Edit. 
Price  2s. 

CARACTACUS,  a  Dramatic  Poem,  written  on  the  Model 
of  the  Ancient  Greek  Tragedy,  and  fince  altered  for  Repre- 
fentation  at  the  Theatre-Royal,  Covent-Garden,  Price  i  s.  6d. 

POEMS  by  W.  MASON,  M.  A.  4th  Edit.  Price  55, 
bound. 

POEMS  by  Mr.  GRAY,  to  which  are  prefix'd,  MEMOIRS 
of  his  Life  and  Writings,  by  W.  MASON,  Quarto,  2d  Edit, 
Price  153,  in  Boards. 


THE 


ENGLISH     GARDEN 


BOOK      THE      THIRD. 


[  Price  Two  Shillings.  ] 


THE 


ENGLISH     GARDEN 


OEM. 


BOOK      THE      THIRD, 


B     Y 


W.         MASON,         M.     A. 


L  ,O    N    D    O    N  : 

PRINTED     BY      H.     GOLDNEY, 

FOR  J.  DODSLEY  IN  PALL-MALL,  AND  T.  CADELL  IN  THE  STRAND, 
AND    SOLD    BY    J.    TODD,     IN    STONEGATE,    YORK. 

MDCCLXXIX. 


THE 


ENGLISH     GARDEN. 


BOOK      THE      THIRD. 


CL  O  S  'D  is  that  curious  ear,  by  Death's  cold  hand, 
That  mark'd  each*  error  of  my  carelefs  flrain 
With  kind  feverity  ;  to  whom  my  Mufe 
Still  lov'd  to  whifper,  what  me  meant  to  fmg 
In  louder  accent ;  to  whofe  tafle  fupreme  5 

She  firfl  and  laft  appeal'd,  nor  wifh'd  for  praife, 
Save  when  his  fmile  was  herald  to  her  fame. 
Yes,  thou  art  gone  j  yet  Friendfhip's  fault'ring  tongue 
Invokes  thee  Hill ;  and  Itill,  by  Fancy  footh'd, 
Fain  would  me  hope  her  GRAY  attends  the  call.  10 

A  Why 


2  THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN. 

Why  then,  alas !  place  I  the  funeral  urn, 

The  fculptur'd  lyre,  within  this  fylvan  dome,  * 

And  fix  this  votive  tablet,  fair  infcrib'd 

With  numbers  worthy  thee,  for  they  are  thine  ? 

Why,  if  thou  hearft  me  ftill,  thefe  fymbols  fad  15 

Of  fond  memorial  ?  ah  !  my  penfive  foul ! 

He  hears  not  now,  nor  ever  more  {hall  hear 

The  theme  his  candour,  not  his  talte  approv'd. 

Oft,  fmiling  as  in  fcorn,  oft  would  he  cry, 
"  Why  wafte  thy  numbers  on  a  trivial  art,  2K> 

"  That  ill  can  mimic  even  the  humbleft  charms 
"  Of  all  majeflic  Nature.?"  at  the  word 

His 


*  Mr.  Gray  died  July  31^,  1771.     This  book  was  begun  a  few  months 
after.     The  three  following  lines  allude  to  a  ruftic  alcove  the  author  was  then 
building  in  his  garden,  in  which  he  placed  a  medallion  of  his  friend,  and  an 
urn.     A  lyre  over  the  entrance  with  the  motto  from  Pindar,  which  Mr.  Gray 
had  prefixt  to  his  Odes  4>flNANTA  SYNETOIEI,  and  under  it  on  a  tablet  this  ftan- 
za,  taken  from  the  firft  edition  of  his  Elegy  written  in  a  country  church-yard* 
Here  fcatter'd  oft,  the  lovlieft  of  the  year, 
By  hands  unfeen,  are  (bowers  of  violets  found  j 
The  Redbreaft  loves  to  build  and  warble  here, 
And  little  footfteps  lightly  print  the  ground. 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  3 

His  eye  would  gliften,  and  his  accents  glow 

With  all  the  poets  frenzy,  "  Sov'reign  Queen  ! 

<e  Behold,  and  tremble  !  while  thou  view'ft  her  flate  25 

"  Thron'd  on  the  heights  of  Skiddaw  j  call  thy  art 

<£  To  build  her  fuch  a  throne  -,  that  art  will  fink 

"  To  its  primeval  nothing.     Trace  her  march 

"  Amid  the  purple  craggs  of  Borrowdale; 

<f  And  try  like  thofe  to  pile  thy  range  of  rock  30 

"  In  rude  tumultuous  chaos.     See  !  fhe  mounts 

"  Her  naiad  car,  and,  down  Lodore's  dread  cliff, 

"  Falls  many  a  fathom  with  the  headlong  flream  -, 

"  Falls,  like  the  Bard  my  fabling  fancy  hurl'd 

"  From  the  rough  brow  that  frown'd  o'er  Conway's  flood  5    3  5 

"  Yet  not  like  him  to  plunge  in  endlefs  night  j 

"  For,  on  its  boiling  bofom,  ftill  fhe  guides 

"  Her  buoyant  fhell,  and  leads  the  wave  along, 

"  Or  fpreads  it  broad,  a  river,  or  a  lake, 

"  As  fuits  her  fov'reign  pleafure ;  will  thy  fong  40 

"  E'er  brace  the  fmews  of  enervate  art 

*'  To  fuch  dread  daring  ?  will  it  ev'n  direct 

A  a  "  Her 


4  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

"  Her  hand  to  emulate  thofe  fofter  charms 

"  That  deck  the  banks  of  Dove,  or  call  to  birth 

"  The  bare  romantic  craggs,  and  copfes  green,  45 

"  That  fidelong  grace  her  circuit  ?  whence  the  rills, 

"  Bright  in  their  chryftal  purity,  defcend 

"  To  meet  their  fparkling  Queen,  around  each  fount 

"  The  haw-thorns  croud,  and  knit  their  bloflbm'd  fprays 

"  To  keep  their  fources  facred.     Here,  even  here,  50 

cl  Thy  art,  each  active  finew  ftrain'd  in  vain, 

"  Would  perifh  in  it's  pride.     Far  rather  thou 

'\Confefs  her  fcanty  power,  correct,  controul, 

"  Tell  her  how  far,  nor  farther,  fhe  may  go, 

"  And  rein  with  Reafon's  curb  fantaflic  Tafte."  55 

Yes  I  will  hear  thee,  dear  lamented  Shade, 
Each  accent  fhall  retentive  memory  ftamp 
On  her  true  tablet ;  what  remains  unfung, 
As  if  flill  guided  by  thy  judgment  fage, 

As  if  ftill  model'd  to  thy  curious  ear,  60 

Shall  flo\\  with  varied  cadence  : .  fo  fhall  praife, 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  5 

If  ought  of  praife  the  verfe  I  weave  may  claim, 
From  juil  Pofterity  reward  my  fong. 

Erewhile  to  trace  the  path,  to  form  the  fence, 
To  mark  the  deftin'd  limits  of  the  lawn,  65 

The  Mufe,  with  meafur'd  ftep  preceptive,  pac'd. 
Now  from  the  furface  with  impatient  flight 
She  mounts,  Sylvanus  !  o'er  thy  world  of  fhade 
To  fpread  her  pinions.     Open  all  thy  glades, 
Greet  her  from  all  thy  ecchoes.     Orpheus  like,  76 

Arm'd  with  the  fpell  of  harmony  fhe  comes, 
To  lead  thy  forefts  forth  to  lovlier  fcenes, 
Where  Fancy  waits  to  fix  them  3  from  the  dells 
Where  now  they  lurk  (lie  calls  them  to  poffefs 
Confpicuous  ftations  ;  to  their  varied  forms  75 

Allots  congenial  place ;  felects,  divides, 
And  blends  anew  in  one  Elyzian  whole. 

Yet,  while  I  thus  exult,  my  weak  tongue  feels 
The  lack  of  antient  phrafe  which,  fpeaking,  paints, 

And 


6  THE    ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

And  is  the  thing  it  fmgs.     Ah  Virgil !  why  80 

Leftft  thou  this  theme  to  grate  on  modern  reed  ? 

Why  not  array  it  in  the  radiant  robe 

Of  thy  rich  diclion,  give  it  to  the  guard 

Of  Fame  thy  hand-maid,  whofe  immortal  plume 

Had  born  its  praife  beyond  the  bounds  of  Time?  85 

Countlefs  is  Vegetation's  verdant  brood 
As  are  the  ftars  that  ftud  yon  cope  of  heaven ; 
To  marfhal  all  her  tribes,  in  order'd  file 
Generic,  or  fpecific,  might  demand 

His  fcience,  wond'rous  Swede,  whofe  ample  mind,  90 

Like  antient  Tadmor's  philofophic  king, 
Stretch'd  from  the  Hyflbp  creeping  on  the  wall 
To  Lebanon's  proudeft  cedars.     Skill  like  this, 
Which  fpans  a  copious  third  of  Nature's  realm, 
Our  art  requires  not,  fedulous  alone  95 

To  note  thofe  general  properties  of  fhape, 
Dimenfion,  growth,  duration,  ftrength,  and  hue, 
Then  firft  impreft,  when,  at  the  dawn  of  time, 

The 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  7 

The  form-deciding  life-infpiring  word 

Pronounc'd  them  into  being.     Thefe  prime  marks,  100 

Diftinclive,  docile  Memory  makes  her  own, 

That  each  their  fhadowy  fuccour  may  fupply 

To  her  wifli'd  purpofe ;  firft,  as  firft  befeems, 

To  veil  whate'er  of  wall,  or  fence  uncouth 

Offends  the  eye,  which  tyrant  Ufe  has  rear'dy  TO$ 

And  ftern  Neceflity  forbids  to  change* 

Lur'd  with  their  hafty  fprouts,  and  branching  ftems, 
Planters  there  are  who  chufe  the  race  of  Pine 
For  this  great  end,  erroneous ;  witlefs  they 
That,  as  their  arrowy  heads  afiault  the  fky,  no 

They  leave  their  fhafts  unfeather'd  ;  rather  thou 
Selecl  the  fhrubs  that,  patient  of  the  knife, 
Will  thank  thee  for  the  wound,  the  hardy  Thorn,, 
Holly,  or  Box,  Privet,  or  Pyracanth. 

They,  thickening  from  their  bafe,  with  tenfold  fhade         115 
Will  foon  replenifh  all  thy  judgment  prun'd. 


But 


8  THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN. 

But  chief,  with  willing  aid,  her  glittering  green 
Shall  England's  Laurel  bring  ;  fwift  fhall  fhe  fpread 
Her  broad-leav'd  {hade,  and  float  it  fair,  and  wide, 
Proud  to  be  call'd  an  inmate  of  the  foil.  1 20 

Let  England  prize  this  daughter  of  the  Eaft  * 
Beyond  that  Latian  plant,  of  kindred  name, 
That  wreath'd  the  head  of  Julius  ;  bafely  twin'd 
Its  flattering  foliage  on  the  traitor's  brow 
Who  crufh'd  his  country's  freedom.     Sacred  tree  125 

Ne'er  be  your  brighter  verdure  thus  debas'd  ! 
Far  happier  thou,  in  this  fequefter'd  bower, 
To  fhroud  thy  Poet,  who,  with  fofl'ring  hand, 
Here  bad  thee  flourifh,  and  with  grateful  ftrain 
Now  chaunts  the  praife  of  thy  maturer  bloom.  130 

And  happier  far  that  Poet,  if,  fecure 
His  Hearth  and  Altars  from  the  pilfering  flaves 


*  Our  common  laurel  was  firft  brought  into  the  low  countrys  A.  D.  1576, 
(together  with  the  horfe  chefnut)  from  Conftantinople,  as  a  prefent  from 
David  Ungnad,  the  imperial  Ambaflador  in  Turkey,  to  Clufius  the  famous 
Botanift.  It  was  fent  him  by -the  name  of  Trabifon-Curmafi,  or  the  Date  of 
Trebifond,  but  he  named  it  Lauro-Cerafus. 

Of 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  9 

Of  Power,  his  little  eve  of  lonely  life 

May  here  fleal  on,  blefl  with  the  heartfelt  calm 

That  competence  and  liberty  infpire.  135 

Nor  are  the  plants  which  England  calls  her  own 
Few,  or  unlovely,  that,  with  laurel  join'd, 
And  kindred  foliage  of  perennial  green, 
Will  form  a  clofe-knit  curtain.     Shrubs  there  are 
Of  bolder  growth,  that,  at  the  Spring's  firft  call,  140 

Burft  forth  in  bloflbm'd  fragrance.     Lilacs  rob'd 
In  fnow- white  innocence,  or  purple  pride, 
The  fweet  Syringa  yielding  but  in  fcent 
To  the  rich  Orange,  or  the  woodbine  wild 
That  loves  to  hang,  on  barren  boughs  remote  145 

Her  wreaths  of  flowery  perfume.  Thefe  befide 
Myriads,  that  here  the  Mufe  neglects  to  name, 
Will  add  a  vernal  luflre  to  thy  veil. 

And  what  if  chance  collects  the  varied  tribes,  ' 
Yet  fear  not  thou  but  unexpected  charms  150 

B  Will 


io  THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN. 

Will  from  their  union  ftart.     But  if  our  fong 

Supply  one  precept  here,  it  bids  retire 

Each  leaf  of  deeper  dye,  and  lift  in  front 

Foliage  of  paler  verdure,  fo  to  fpread 

A  canvas,  which  when  touch'd  by  Autumn's  hand  151 

Shall  gleam  with  dufky-gold,  or  ruflet  rays. 

But  why  prepare  for  her  funereal  hand 

That  canvas  ?  fhe  but  comes  to  drefs  thy  (hades, 

As  lovelier  victims  for  their  wintry  tomb; 

Rather  to  flowery  fpring,  to  fummer  bright,  160 

Thy  labours  confecrate  ;  their  laughing  reign, 

The  youth,  the  manhood  of  the  growing  year> 

Deferves  thy  labour,  and  rewards  it's  pain. 

Yet,  heedful  ever  of  that  ruthlefs  time 

When  Winter  {hakes  their  items,  preferve  a  file  165 

With  everduring  leaf  to  brave  his  arm 

And  deepening  fpread  their  undiminifh'd  gloom. 

But,  if  the  tall  defect  demands  a  fcreen 
Of  foreil  made  high-tow'ring,  fome  broad  roof 

Per- 


THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN.  n 

Perchance  of  glaring  tile  that  guards  the  ftores  170 

Of  Ceres,  or  the  patch'd  disjointed  choir 

Of  fome  old  Fane,  whoffe  fleeple's  Gothic  pride 

Or  pinnacled,  or  fpir'd,  would  bolder  rife 

"  In  tufted  trees  high  bofom'd."     Here  allot 

Convenient  fpace  to  plant  that  lofty  tribe  175 

Behind  thy  underwood,  left,  o'er  it's  head 

The  foreft  tyrants  fhake  their  lordly  arms, 

And  flied  their  baleful  dew.     Each  plant  that  fprings 

Holds,  like  the  people  of  fome  freeborn  ftate, 

Its  rights  fair  franchis'd ;  rooted  to  a  fpot  I  80 

It  yet  has  claim  to  air ;  from  liberal  heav'n 

It  yet  has  claim  to  funfhine,  and  to  fhowers  : 

Air,  fhowers,  and  funfliine  are  it's  liberty. 

That  liberty  fecur'd,  a  general  fhade 

Denfe,  and  impervious  to  thy  wifri  fhall  rife  185 

To  hide  each  form  uncouth ;  and,  this  obtain'd, 
All  elfe  we  from  the  Dryad  race  implore 
Is  Grace,  is  Ornament.     For  fee  our  lawn 

B  2  Though 


12  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN, 

Though  cloath'd  with  fofteft  verdure,  though  reliev'd 

By  many  a  gentle  fall  and  eafy  fwell,  190 

Expects  that  harmony  of  light,  and  (hade, 

Which  foliage  only  gives.     Come  then,  ye  plants  ! 

That,  like  the  village  troop  when  Maia  dawns, 

Delight  to  mingle  focial ;  to  the  creft 

Of  yonder  brow  we  fafely  may  conduct  195 

Your  numerous  train,  no  eye  obflrucled  there 

Will  blame  your  interpos'd  fociety  •> 

But,  on  the  plain  below,  in  lingle  Hems 

Difparted,  or  in  fparing  groups  diftinft, 

Wide  muft  ye  Hand,,  in  wild,  diforder'd  mood,  200 

A 

As  if  the  feeds  from  which  your  fcyons  fprang 

Had  there  been  fcatter'd  from  the  affrighted  beak 

Of  fome  maternal  bird  whom  the  fierce  Hawk 

Purfued  with  felon  claw.     Her  young  meanwhile 

Callow,  and  cold,  from  their  mofs-woven  nefi  205 

Peep  forth  j  they  ftretch  their  little  eager  throats 

Broad  to  the  wind,  and  plead  to  the  lone  fpray 

Their  famifh'd  plaint  importunately  fhrill. 

Yet 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  13 

Yet  in  this  wild  diforder  Art  prefides, 

Defigns,  correcls,.  and  regulates  the  whole,  210 

Herfelf  the  while  unfeea.     No  cedar  broad 
Drops  his  dark  curtain  where  a  diflant  fcene 
Demands  diftin&ion.     Here  the  thin  abele 
Of  lofty  bole,  and  bare ;.  the  fmooth-ftem'd  beech, 
Or  (lender  alder  give  our  eye  free  fpace  21^5 

Beneath  their  boughs  to  catch  each  leflening  charm 
Ev'n  to  the  far  horizon's  azure  bound.. 

Nor  will  that  fov'reign  Arbitrefs  admit, 
Where'er  her  nod  decrees  a.  mafs  of  fhade, 
Plants  of  difcordant  fort,  unequal  fize,  220 

Or  rul'd  by  Foliation's  different  law  y 
Studious,  with  juft  feleclion,  thofe  to  join 
That  earlieft  flourifh,  and  that  lateft  fade.. 

Nor  will  that  fov'reign  Arbitrefs  devote 

To  ftrange,  and  alien  foils,  her  feedling  ftems  ;  223 

Fix  the  dank  fallow  on  the  mountain's  brow, 

Or, 


i4  THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN. 

Or,  to  the  mofs-grown  margin  of  the  lake, 
Bid  the  dry  pine  defcend.     From  Nature's  laws 
She  draws  her  own :  Nature  and  fhe  are  one. 

Nor  will  that  fovereign  Arbitrefs  felect,  230 

For  objects  interpos'd,  the  pigmy  race 
Of  fhrubs,  or  fcatter  with  unmeaning  hand 
Their  offspring  o'er  the  lawn,  fcorning  to  patch 
With  many  a  meagre  and  disjointed  tuft 

Its  fober  furface:  fidelong  to  her  path  235 

And  polifh'd  foreground  fhe  confines  their  growth 
Where  o'er  their  heads  the  liberal  eye  may  range. 

Nor  will  that  fov'reign  arbitrefs,  intent 
To  form  one  perfect  whole,  forego  that  aim 
To  give  exotic  wonders  to  our  gaze.  240 

She  knows  and  trufts  not  in  die  faithlefs  train  : 
Sagely  fhe  calls  on  thofe  of  hardy  clafs 
Indigenous,  who,  patient  of  the  change 
From  heat  to  cold  which  Albion  hourly  feels, 

Are 


THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN.  15 

Are  brac'd  with  ftrength  to  brave  it.     Thefe  alone  245 

She  plants,  and  prunes,  nor  grieves  if  nicer  eyes 
Pronounce  them  vulgar.     Thefe  fhe  calls  her  friends, 
That  veteran  troop  who  will  not  for  a  blaft 
Of  nipping  air  like  cowards  quit  the  field. 

Far  to  the  north  of  thy  imperial  tower*  250 

Augufta ;  in  that  wild  and  Alpine  vale 
Through  which  the  Swale  by  mountain-torrents  fwelFd 
Flings  his  redundant  ftream,  there  liv'd  a  youth    , 
Of  poliuYd  manners  5  ample  his  domain, 
And  fair  the  fcite  of  his  paternal  dome.  255 

He  lov'd  the  art  I  fing,  a  deep  adept 
In  Nature's  fiery,  well  he  knew  the  names 
Of  all  her  verdant  lineage,  yet  that  fkill 
Mifled  his  tafle  j  fcornful  of  every  bloom 

* 

That  fpread  fpontaneous,  from  remoteft  Ind  260 

He  brought  his  foliage  j  carelefs  of  its  cofr, 

Ev'n  of  its  beauty  carelefs ;  it  was  rare, 

And  therefore  beauteous.     Now  his  laurel  fcreen, 

With 


i6  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

With  rofe  and  woodbine  negligently  wove, 

Sows  to  the  ax  j  the  rich  Magnolias  claim  265 

The  (ration  -,  now  Herculean  Beeches  fell'd 

Refign  their  rights,  and  warm  Virginia  fends 

Her  cedars  to  ufurp  them  -,  the  proud  Oak 

Himfelf,  ev'n  He  the  fov'reign  of  the  fhade, 

Yields  to  the  Fir  that  drips  with  Gilead's  balm.  270 

Now  Albion  gaze  at  glorys  not  thy  own  ! 

Paufe  rapid  Swale  !  and  fee  thy  margin  crown'd 

With  all  the  pride  of  Ganges  :  vernal  fhowers 

Have  fix'd  their  roots,  nutricious  fummer  funs 

Favor'd  their  growth,  and  mildeft  autumn  fmil'd  275 

Benignant  o'er  them ;  vigorous,  fair,  and  tall, 

They  waft  a  gale  of  fpices  o'er  the  plain. 

But  Winter  comes,  and  with  him  watry  Jove, 

And  with  him  Boreas  in  his  frozen  fhroud : 

The  favage  fpirit  of  old  Swale  is  rous'd  ;  280 

He  howls  amid  his  foam.     At  the  dread  fight 

The  Aliens  ftand  aghaft  j  they  bow  their  heads  3 

In  vain  the  glafly  penthoufe  is  fupply'd, 

The 


THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN.  17 

The  pelting  ftorm  with  icy  bullets  breaks 

Its  fragile  barrier,  fee,  they  fade,  they  die.  285 

Warn'd  by  his  error,  let  the  Planter  flight 
Thefe  fhiv'ring  rarities,  or  if,  to  pleafe 
Faftidious  Fafhion,  he  muft  needs  allot- 
Some  fpace  for  foreign  foliage,  let  him  chufe 
A  fidelong  glade,  fhelter'd  from  eaft  and  north,  29© 

And  free  to  fouthern  and  to  weftern  gales ; 
There  let  him  fix  their  ftation,  thither  wind 
Some  devious  path,  that,  from  the  general  whole 
Detach'd,  may  lead  to  where  they  fafely  bloom. 
So  in  the  web  of  epic  fong  fublime  295 

The  Bard  Maeonian  interweaves  the  charm 
Of  gentle  epifode,  yet  leaves  unbroke 
The  golden  thread  of  his  majeftic  theme. 

What  elfe  to  (him  of  formal,  falfe,  or  vain, 
Of  long-lin'd  Viftas,  or  plantations  quaint  300 

Our  former  ftrains  have  taught :  Inftru&ion  now 

C 


1-8  THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN. 

Withdraws ;  fhe  knows  her  limits ;  knows  that  Grace 

Is  caught  by  ftrong  perception,  not  from  rules ; 

That  undreft  Nature  claims  for  all  her  limbs 

Some  fimple  garb  peculiar,  which,  howe'er  305 

Diftant  their  fize  and  fhape,  is  fimple  ftill : 

This  garb  to  chufe,  with  clothing  denfe,  or  thin, 

A  part  to  hide,  another  to  adorn, 

Is  Tafte's  important  tafk ;  preceptive  fong 

From  error  in  the  choice  can  only  warn.  310 

But  vain  that  warning  voice ;  vain  ev'ry  aid 
Of  Genius,  Judgment,  Fancy  to  fecure 
The  Planter's  lafting  fame.     There  is  a  power, 
A  hidden  power,  at  once  his  friend,  and  foe, 
Tis  Vegetation.     Gradual  to  his  groves  315 

She  gives  their  wifh'd  effect.     O  !  for  an  arm 
Supernal  there  to  check  her — impious  wifh ! 
She  is  high  heaven's  Vicegerent ;  fhe  muft  fhape, 
Muft  fhoot,  muft  fwell  each  fibre  as  fhe  lifts, 
Muft  reign  in  wild  luxuriance.     Happier  far  320 

Are 


THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN.  19 

Are  you,  ye  fons  of  CLAUDE  !  who  from  the  mine, 
The  earth,  or  juice  of  herb  or  flower  concrete, 
Mingle  the  mafs  whence  your  Arcadia's  fpring ; 
The  graceful  outline  of  your  piclur'd  trees 
Still  keeps  the  bound  you  gave  it ;  Time  that  pales  325 

Your  vivid  hues,  refpefts  your  pleafing  forms. 
Not  fo  our  Landfcapes  ;  though  we  paint  like  you, 
We  paint  with  growing  colours ;  ev'ry  year, 
O'erpafTmg  that  which  gives  the  breadth  of  fhade 
We  fought,  by  rude  addition,  mars  our  fcene.  330 

Roufe  then,  ye  Hinds  I  e'er  yet  yon  clofmg  boughs 
Blot  out  the  purple  diflance,  roufe  ye  foon, 
Prevent  the  fpreading  evil.     Thin  the  glades, 
While  yet  of  flender  fize  each  item  will  thrive 
Tranfplanted.     Twice  repeat  the  annual  toil i  335 

Nor  let  the  ax  its  beak,  the  faw  its  tooth 
Refrain,  whene'er  fome  random  branch  has  ftray'd 
Beyond  the  bounds  of  beauty ;  elfe  full  foon, 

Ev'n 


20  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

> 

Ev'n  e'er  the  Planter's  life  has  paft  its  prime, 

Will  Albion's  garden  frown  an  Indian  wild.  340 

Forboding  Fears  avaunt !  be  ours  to  urge 
Each  prefent  purpofe  by  what  favoring  means 
May  work  its  end  defign'd.     Why  deprecate 
The  change  that  waits  on  fublunary  things, 
Sad  lot  of  their  exiftence  ?  fhall  we  paufe  345 

To  give  the  charm  of  Water  to  our  fcene, 
Becaufe  the  congregated  rains  may  fwell 
Its  tide  into  a  flood  ?  becaufe  yon  Sun 
Now  mounts  the  Lion  -y  to  his  burning  noon 
Impells  him  j  fhaking  from  his  fiery  mane  3  50 

A  heat  may  parch  its  channel;  O,  ye  caves, 
Deepen  your  dripping  roofs  !  this  feverifh  hour  * 
Claims  all  your  coolnefs.     In  your  humid  cells 
Permit  me  to  forget  the  Planter's  toil  3 


*  Thefe  lines  were,  written  in  June,  1778,  when  it  wa§  remarkably  hot 
weather. 

And, 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  21 

And,  while  I  woo  your  Naiads  to  my  aid,  355 

Involve  me  in  impenetrable  gloom. 

Bleft  be  the  Man  (if  blifs  be  human  boaft) 
Whofe  fertile  foil  is  wafli'd  with  frequent  ftreams, 
And  fp rings  falubrious.     He  difdains  to  tofs 
In  rainbow  dews  their  chryftal  to  the  fun ;  360 

Or  fink,  in  fubterranean  cifterns  deep  -y 
That  fo,  through  leaden  fyphons  upward  drawn, 
Thofe  ftreams  may  leap  fantaftic.     He  his  ear 
Shuts  to  the  tuneful  trifling  of  the  Bard,  * 
Who  trick'd  a  gothic  theme  with  claflic  flowers,  365 

And  fung  of  Fountains  burfting  from  the  fhells 
Of  brazen  Tritons,  fpouting  through  the  jaws 
"  Of  Gorgons,  Hydras,  and  Chimaeras  dire." 


*  Rene  Rapin,  a  learned  Jefuit  of  the  laft  century,  who  writ  a^  didactic 
Latin  Poem  on  Gardens,  in  four  books,  by  way  of  fupplement  to  Virgil's 
Georgics.  The  third  book  treats  the  fubjec'l  of  water,  or  mere  properly  of 
waterworks,  for  it  is  entirely  made  up  of  defcriptions  of  Jet  d'eaux,  and  fuch 
fort  of  artificial  baubles. 

Peace 


22  THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN. 

Peace  to  his  Manes !  let  the  Nymphs  of  Seine 
Cherifh  his  fame.     Thy  Poet,  Albion,  fcorns,  370 

Ev'n  for  a  cold  unconfcious  element, 
To  forge  the  fetters  he  would  fcorn  to  wear. 
His  fong  fhall  reprobate  each  effort  vile, 
That  aims  to  force  the  Genius  of  the  ftream 
Beyond  his  native  levels  this  firft  law,  375 

That  Nature  to  her  world  of  waters  gave, 
Let  Art  revere,  as  does  impartial  Heaven  ; 
The  poize  of  Juftice  -,  let  her  fcorn  to  prefs, 
Above  that  deftin'd  line,  the  balanc'd  wave. 

Is  there  within  the  circle  of  thy  view  380 

Some  fedgy  flat,  where  the  late-ripen'd  (heaves 
Stand  brown  with  unbleft  mildew  ?  tis  the  bed 
On  which  an  ample  lake  in  chryftal  peace 
Might  fleep  majeftic.     Paufe  we  yet ;  perchance 
Some  midway  channel,  where  the  foil  declines,  385 

Might  there  be  delv'd,  by  levels  duly  led 
In  bold  and  broken  curves :  (for  water  loves 

A  wilder 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  23 

A  wilder  outline  than  the  woodland  path, 

Ev'n  to  acute  extreams.)  *     To  drain  the  reft 

The  fhelving  fpade  may  toil,  till  wintry  fliowers  390 

Find  their  free  courfe  down  each  declining  bank. 

Quit  then  the  thought;  a. River's  winding  form, 

With  many  a  fmuous  bay,  and  Ifland  green, 

At  lefs  expence  of  labour  and  of  land, 

Will  give  thee  equal  beauty  ;  feldom  art  395 

Can  emulate  that  magnitude  fublime 

Which  fpreads  the  native  Lake,  and,  failing  there, 

Her  works  betray  their  character,  and  name, 

And  dwindle  into  pools.     Not  that  our  {train 

Faftidious,  fhall  difdain  a  fmall  expanfe  400 

Of  flagnant  fluid,  in  fome  fcene  confin'd, 

Circled  with  varied  fhade,  where,  through  the  leaves, 

The  half-admitted  funbeam  trembling  plays 


*  See  Book  the  fecond,  ver.  50  to  ver.  78,  where  the  curve  of  beauty,  or 
a  line  waving  very  gently,  is  faid  not  only  to  prevail  in  natural  pathways,  but 
in  the  courfe  of  rivulets  and  the  outline  of  lakes.  It  generally  does  fo  ;  yet  in 
the  latter  it  is  fometimes  found  more  abrupt  :  in  artificial  pieces  of  water, 
therefore,  bolder  curves  may  be  employed,  than  in  the  formation  of  the  fand 
or  gravel  walk. 

On 


24  THE    ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

On  its  clear  bofom  j  where  aquatic  fowl 

Of  varied  tribe,  and  varied  feather  fail  >  405 

And  where  the  finny  race  their  glittering  fcales 

Unwillingly  reveal.     There,  there  alone, 

Where  burfts  the  general  profpecl:  on  our  eye, 

We  fcorn  thefe  wat'ry  patches  ;  Thames  himfelf, 

Seen  in  disjointed  fpots,  where  Sallows  hide  410 

His  firft  bold  prefence,  feems  a  firing  of  pools, 

A  chart  and  compafs  muil  explain  his  courfe. 

He,  who  would  feize  the  River's  fov'reign  charm, 
Muft  wind  the  moving  mirror  through  his  lawn 
Ev'n  to  remoter!:  diftance  ;  deep  muft  delve  415 

The  gravelly  channel  that  prefcribes  its  courfe  j 
Clofely  conceal  each  terminating  bound 
By  hill  or  fhade  oppos'd  j  and  to  its  bank 
Lift  the  true  level  of  the  equal  ftream, 

In  fparkling  plenitude.     But,  if  thy  fprings  420 

Refufe  this  large  fupply,  Jfteel  thy  firm  foul 

With 


THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN.  25 

With  ftoic  pride,  imperfect  charms  defpife, 
Beauty,  like  Virtue,  knows  no  groveling  mean. 

Who,  but  muft  pity  that  penurious  tafte, 
Which  down  the  quick-defcending  vale  prolongs,  425 

Slope  below  flope,  a  ftiff  and  unlink'd  chain 
Of  flat  canals ;  then  leads  the  Granger's  eye 
To  fome  predeftin'd  flation,  there  to  catch 
Their  feeming  union/  and  the  fraud  approve  ? 
Who  but  muft  change  that  pity  into  fcorn,  430 

If  down  each  verdant  flope  a  narrow  flight 
Of  central  fteps  decline,  where  the  fpare  ftream 
Steals  trickling  j  or,  withheld  by  cunning  {kill, 
Hoards  its  fcant  treafures,  till  the  mafter's  nod 
Decree  its  fall.     Then  down  the  formal  flairs  435 

It  leaps  with  fhort-liv'd  fury  j  wafting  there, 
Poor  prodigal  I  what  many  a  fummer's  rain, 
And  many  a  Winter's  mow  mail  late  reftore. 

Learn,  that  whene'er  in  fome  fublimer  fcene 
Imperial  Nature  of  her  headlong  floods  440 

D  Permits 


26  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

Permits  our  imitation,  ihe  herfelf 

Prepares  their  refervoir ;  conceal'd  perchance 

In  neighbring  hills,  where  fail  it  well  behoves 

Our  toil  to  fearch,  and  fludioufly  augment 

With  fidelong  fprings  and  fluices  frequent  drawn  445 

From  pools,  that  on  the  heath  drink  up  the  rain. 

Be  thefe  collected,  like  the  Mifer's  gold, 

In  one  increafing  fund,  nor  dare  to  pour 

Down  thy  impending  mound  the  bright  cafcade 

Till  richly  fure  of  its  redundant  fall.  450 

That  mound  to  raife  alike  demands  thy  toil, 
Ere  Art  adorn  it's  furface.     Here  adopt 
That  facile  mode  which  His  inventive  powers  * 
Firft  plann'd,  who  led  to  rich  Mancunium's  mart 
His  long-drawn  line  of  navigated  ftream.  455 

Stupendous  talk !  in  vain  flood  towering  hills 
Oppos'd,  in  vain  did  ample  Irwell  pour 


*  Mr.  Brindley,  who  executed  the  Duke  of  Bridgewater's  canal,  and  in- 
vented a  method  of  making  dams  to  hold  water,  without  clay,  ufing  for  this 
purpofe  any  fort  of  earth  duly  temper'd  with  water. 

Her 


THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN.  27 

Her  Tide  tranfverfe  $  he  pierc'd  the  towering  hill, 

He  bridg'd  the  ample  tide,  and  high  in  air, 

And  deep  through  earth,  his  freighted  barge  he  bore.         460 

This  mode  fhall  temper  ev'n  the  lighteft  foil 

To  thy  firm  purpofe ;  then  let  tafte  feleft 

The  unhewn  fragments,  that  may  give  its  front 

A  rocky  rudenefs  ;  pointed  fome,  that  there 

The  frothy  fpouts  may  break  ;  fome  flaunting  fmooth,        465 

That  there  in  filver  fheet  the  wave  may  flide. 

Here  too  infix  fome  mofT-grown  trunks  of  oak 

Romantic,  turn'd  by  gelid  lakes  to  flone, 

Yet  fo  difpos'd  as  if  they  owed  their  change 

To  what  they  now  controul.     Then  open  wide  470 

Thy  flood-gates :  then  let  down  thy  torrent :   then 

Rejoice ;  as  if  the  thund'ring  Tees  *  himfelf 

Reign'd  there  amid  his  cataracts  fublime. 

And  thou  haft  caufe  for  triumph  !  Kings  themfelves,. 
With  all  a  nation's  wealth,  an  army's  toil,  475 


*  The  fall  of  the  Tees,  near  Middleton,  is  efteemed  one  of  the  greateft 
in  England. 

D    2  If 


28  THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN. 

If  Nature  frown  averfe,  fhall  ne'er  atchieve 

Such  wonders.     Nature's  was  the  glorious  gift  j 

Thy  art  her  menial  handmaid.     Liflening  youths ! 

To  whofe  ingenuous  hearts  I  ftill  addrefs 

The  friendly  ftrain,  from  fuch  fevere  attempt  480 

Let  Prudence  warn  you.     Turn  to  this  clear  rill, 

Which,  while  I  bid  your  bold  ambition  ceafe, 

Runs  murmuring  at  my  fide.     O'er  many  a  rood 

Your  fkill  may  lead  the  wanderer :  many  a  mound 

Of  pebbles  raife,  to  fret  her  in  her  courfe  485 

Impatient :  louder  then  will  be  her  fong : 

For  (he  will  'plain,  and  gurgle,  as  (he  goes, 

As  does  the  widow'd  ring-dove.     Take,  vain  Pomp  ! 

Thy  lakes,  thy  long  canals,  thy  trim  cafcades, 

Beyond  them  all  true  tafte  will  dearly  prize  490 

This  little  dimpling  treafure.     Mark  the  cleft, 

Through  which  {he  burfts  to  day.     Behind  that  rock 

A  Naiad  dwells :  Ligea  is  her  name  j 

And  (lie  has  fitters  in  contiguous  cells, 

Who  never  faw  the  fun.     Fond  Fancy's  eye,  495 

That  loves  to  give  locality  and  form 

To 


THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN.  29 

To  what  fhe  prizes  beft,  full  oft  pervades 

Thofe  hidden  caverns,  where  pale  chryfolites, 

And  glittering  fpars  dart  a  myfterious  gleam 

Of  inborn  luflre,  from  the  garifh  day  500 

Unborrow'd.     There,  by  the  wild  Goddefs  led, 

Oft  have  I  feen  them  bending  o'er  their  urn  s, 

Chaunting  alternate  airs  of  Dorian  mood, 

While  fmooth  they  comb'd  their  rrioift  cerulean  locks 

With  (hells  of  living  pearl.     Yes,  let  me  own,  505 

To  thefe,  or  claffic  deities,  like  thefe, 

From  very  childhood  was  I  prone  to  pay 

Harmlefs  idolatry.     My  infant  eyes 

Firft  open'd  on  that  bleak  and  boift'rous  more, 

Where  Humber  weds  the  nymphs  of  Trent  and  Oufe,       510 

To  His,  and  Ocean's  Tritons :  thence  full  foon 

My  youth  retir'd,  and  left  the  bufy  ftrand 

To  Commerce  and  to  Care.     In  Margaret's  grove,  * 

Beneath  whofe  time-worn  made  old  Camus  ileeps, 

Was  next  my  tranquil  ftation  :  Science  there  515 

*  St.  John's  College  in  Cambridge  founded  by  Margaret  Countefs  of  Rich- 
mond, mother  of  Henry  the  Seventh. 

Sat 


30  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

Sate  mufmg  j  and  to  thofe  that  lov'd  the  lare 

Pointed,  with  myftic  wand,  to  truths  involv'd 

In  geometric  fymbols,  fcorning  thofe, 

Perchance  too  much,  who  woo'd  the  thriftlefs  mufe. 

Here  though  in  warbling  whifper  oft  I  breath'd  520 

The  lay,  were  wanting,  what  young  Fancy  deems 

The  life-fprings  of  her  being,  rocks,  and  caves, 

And  huddling  brooks,  and  torrent- falls  divine. 

In  queft  of  thefe,  at  fummer's  vacant  hour, 

Pleas'd  would  I  ftray,  when  in  a  northern  vale  525 

(So  chance  ordain'd)  a  Naiad  fad  I  found 

Robb'd  of  her  filver  vafe;  I  footh'd  the  nymph 

With  fong  of  fympathy,  and  curft  the  fiend, 

Who  ftole  the  gift  of  Thetis.  *     Hence  the  caufe,    . 

Why,  favoured  by  the  blue-ey'd  fifterhood,  530 

They  footh  with  fongs  my  folitary  ear. 

Nor  is  Ligea  filent — "  Long,"  fhe  cries, 
"  Too  long  has  Man  wag'd  facrilegious  war 

*  Alluding  to  the  Ode  to  a  Water  Nymph,  which  the  author  writ  a  year 
or  two  after  his  admiffion  into  the  univerfity.     See  his  poems,  Ode  II. 

With 


THE  ENGLISH  GARDEN.          3r 

"  With  the  vext  elements,  and  chief  with  that, 
<c  Whom  elder  Thales,  and  the  Bard  of  Thebes  535 

"  Held  firft  of  things  terreflrial ;  nor  mifdeem'd  : 
"  For,  when  the  Spirit  creative  deign'd  to  move, 
tc  He  mov'd  upon  the  waters.     O  revere 
<L  Our  power :  for  was  its  vital  force  withheld, 
<l  Where  then  were  Vegetation's  vernal  bloom,  540 

"  Where  its  autumnal  Wealth  ?  but  we  are  kind, 
"  As  powerful ;  O  let  reverence  lead  to  love, 
"  And  both  to  emulation !   Not  a  rill, 
"  That  winds  its  fparkling  current  o'er  the  plain, 
"  Reflecting  to  the  Sun  bright  recompenfe  545 

"  For  ev'ry  beam  he  lends,  but  reads  thy  foul 
"  A  generous  lecture.     Not  a  panfy  pale, 
"  That  drinks  its  daily  nurture  from  that  rill, 
"  But  breaths  in  fragrant  accents  to  thy  foul; 
"  So  fhould'fl  thou  feed  the  poor."     Whoe'er  beheld          550 
ct  Our  humble  train  forfake  their  native  mead 
"  To  climb  the  haughty  hill  ?  Ambition,  fpeak. 
"  — He  blufhes,  and  is  mute.     When  did  our  flreams, 

By 


32  THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN. 

"  By  force  unpent,  in  dull  ilagnation  fleep  ? 

"  Let  Sloth  unfold  his  arms  and  tell  the  time.  555 

"  Or,  if  the  tyranny  of  Art  infring'd 

"  Our  rights,  when  did  our  patient  floods  fubmit 

<{  Without  recoil  ?  Servility  retires, 

"  And  clinks  his  gilded  chain.     O,  learn  from  us, 

<l  And  tell  it  to  thy  nation,  Britifh  Bard  !  560 

ct  Ambition,  Sloth,  and  flav'ry  are  the  fiends, 

tf  That  pull  down  mighty  empires »     If  they  fcorn 

"  The  awful  truth,  be  thine  to  hold  it  dear. 

i 

'£  So,  through  the  vale  of  life,  thy  flowing  hours 

"  Shall  glide  ferene ;  and,  like  Ligea's  rill,  565 

"  Their  free,  yet  not  licentious  courfe  fulfill'd, 

"  Sink  in  the  ocean  of  Eternity." 

END    OF    THE    THIRD   BOOK. 


THE 


ENGLISH     GARDEN: 

A 

P       O       EM. 

IN    FOUR    BOOKS. 

B    Y 

W.       MASON,       M.  A. 


A  GARDEN  13  THE  PUREST  OF  HUMAN  PLEASURES,  JT  IS  THE  GREATEST 
REFRESHMENT  TO  THE  SPIRITS  OF  MAN;  WITHOUT  WHICH  BUILDINGS 
AND  PALACES  ARE  BUT  GROSS  HANDY-WORKS.  AND  A  MAN  SHALL  EVER 
SEE,  THAT  WHEN  AGES  GROW  TO  CIVILITY  AND  ELEGANCY,  MEN  COME 
TO  BUILD  STATELY,  SOONER  THAN  TO  GARDEN  FINELY:  AS  IF  GAR- 
DENING WERE  THE  GREATER  PERFECTION. 

V  E  R  U  L  A  M. 


YORK     PRINTED    BY     A.     WARD: 

And  fold  by  J.  DODSLEY,  Pal  1- Mall ;  T.  CAD  ELL,  in  the  Strand;  and 
R.  FAULDER,  in  New  Bond- Street,  London:  And  J.  TODD,  in  York. 

M.DCC.LXXXL 


THE 


ENGLISH     GARDENS 


P       O       E       ML 

BOOK    THE    FOURTH. 

B   Y 

W>       MASON,      Ml   A. 


YORK    PRINTED    BY    A.    WARD: 

And  fold  by  J.  DODSLEY,  Pall  -  Mall ;  T.  CAD  ELL,  in  the  Strand;  and 
R.  FAULDER,  in  New  Bond- Street,  London}  and  J.  TOD D,  in  York. 

M.DCCXXXXI, 


THE 


ENGLISH      GARDEN, 


BOOK    THE    FOURTH. 

NO  R  yet  withdraw  thy  aid,  thou  NYMPH  divine  !  * 
That  aid  aufpicious,  which,  in  Art's  domain, 
Already  has  reform'd  whate'er  prevail'd 
Of  foreign,  or  of  falfe ;  has  led  the  curve 
That  Nature  loves  thro'  all  her  fylvan  haunts  j  5 

Has  ftol'n  the  fence  unnotic'd  that  arrefts 
Her  vagrant  herds  ;  giv'n  luftre  to  her  lawns, 
Gloom  to  her  groves,  and,  in  expanfe  ferene, 
Devolv'd  that  wat'ry  mirror  at  her  foot, 
O'er  which  flie  loves  to  bend  and  view  her  charms.  10 

B  And 


*  SIMPLICITY.  See  the  beginning  of  the  Poem.  The  following  lines  recapitulate  the 
fubjeft  of  the  three  preceding  Bocks.  The  id  to  the  paufe  in  ver.  4th;  the  zd  from 
thence  to  that  in  ver.  7th ;  and  the  third  finilhes  with  the  paragraph. 


2  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

And  tell  me  Thou,  whoe'er  haft  new-arrang'd 
By  her  chafte  rules  thy  garden,  if  thy  heart 
Feels  not  the  warm,  the  felf- dilating  glow 
Of  true  Benevolence.     Thy  flocks,  thy  herds^ 
That  browze  luxurious  o'er  thofe  very  plots  15 

Which  once  were  barren,  blefs  thee  for  the  change  $ 
The  birds  of  Air  (which  thy  funereal  Yews 
Of  fhapc  uncouth,  and  leaden  Sons  of  Earth, 
Antaeus  and  Enceladus,  with  clubs 

Uplifted,  long  had  frighted  from  the  fccne)  20 

Now  pleas'd  return,  they  perch  on  ev'ry  fpray, 
And  fwell  their  little  throats,  and  warble  wild 
Their  vernal  minftrelfy  j  to  Heav'n  and  Thee 
It  is  a  hymn  of  thanks :  do  thou,  like  Heav'n, 
With  tutelary  care  reward  their  fong.  25 

Ere- while  the  Mufe,  induftrious  to  combine 
Nature's  own  charms,  with  thefe  alone  adorn 'd 
The  Genius  of  the  Scene;  but  other  gifts 
She  has  in  ilore,  which  gladly  now  (lie  brings, 
And  he  mall  proudly  wear.     Know,  when  me  broke  iO 

The 


THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN.  3 

The  fpells  of  Fafhion,  from  the  crumbling  wreck 

Of  her  enchantments  fagely  did  fhe  cull 

Thofe  reliques  rich  of  old  Vitruvian  {kill, 

With  what  the  Sculptor's  hand  in  claflic  days 

Made  breathe  in  Brafs  or  Marble ;  thefe  theHag  35 

Had  purloin'd,  and  difpos'd  in  Folly's  fane  ; 

To  him  thefe  trophies  of  her  victory 

She  bears ;  and  where  his  awful  nod  ordains 

Confpicuous  means  to  place.     He  {hall  direct 

Her  dubious  judgment,  from  the  various  hoard  4© 

Of  ornamental  treafures,  how  to  chufe 

The  fmipleft  and  the  beft ;  on  thefe  his  feal 

Shall  ftamp  great  Nature's  image  and  his  own, 

To  charm  for  unborn  ages. — Fling  the  reft 

Back  to  the  Beldame,  bid  her  whirl  them  all  4^ 

In  her  vain  vortex,  lift  them  now  to  day, 

Now  plunge  in  night,  as,  thro*  the  humid  rack 

Of  April  cloud,  fwift  flits  the  trembling  beam. 

But  precepts  tire,  and  this  faftidious  Age 
Rejects  the  flrain  didactic  :  Try  we  then  50 

B  2  In 


4  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

In  livelier  Narrative  the  truths  to  veil 

We  dare  not  didlate.     Sons  of  Albion,  hear  * 

The  tale  I  tell  is  full  of  ftrange  event, 

And  piteous  circumftance ;  yet  deem  not  ye, 

If  names  I  feign,  that  therefore  fa&s  are  feign'd :  55 

Nor  hence  refufe  (what  moft  augments  the  charm 

Of  ftoried  woe)  that  fond  credulity 

Which  binds  th' attentive  foul  in  clofer  chains.. 

At  manhood's  prime  ALCANDER'S  duteous  tear 
Fell  on  his  Father's  grave.     The  fair  Domain,  60 

Which  then  became  his  ample  heritage, 
That  Father  had  reform'd ;  each  line  deftroy'd 
Which  Belgic  dulnefs  ptann'd  j  and  Nature's  felf 
Reflor'd  to  all  the  rights  me  wim'd  to  claim. 

Crowning  a  gradual  hill  his  Manfion  rofe  6-5 

In  antient  Englim  grandeur :  Turrets,  Spires, 
And  Windows,  climbing  high  from  bafe  to  roof 
In  wide  and  radiant  rows,  befpoke  its  birth 
Coeval  with  thofe  rich  cathedral  fanes, 

(Gothic 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  5 

(Gothic  ill-nam'd)  where  harmony  refults  70 

From  difunited  parts;  and  fhapes  minute,. 

At  once  diftincl:  and  blended,   boldly  form 

One  vaft  majeftic  whole.     No  modern  art 

Had  marr'd  with  mifplac'd  fymmetry  the.  Pile. 

ALCANDER  held  it  facred  :  On,  a  height,.  75 

Which  weftering  to  its  fite.  the  front  furvey'd,, 

He  firfl  his  tafte  employ'd :  for  there  a  line 

Of  thinly  fcatter'd  Beech  too  tamely  broke 

The  blank  Horizon.     "  Draw  we  round  yon  knowl," 

ALCANDER  cry'd,.  "  ia  flately  Norman  mode,.  80 

"  A  wall  embattled ;  and  within  its  guard, 

*'  Let  every  flruclure  needful  for  a  Farm 

"  Arife  in  Caftle-femblance ;  the  huge  Barn 

*'  Shall  with  a  mock  Portcullis  arm  the  gate* 

'*  Where  Ceres  entering,  o'er  the  flail-proof  floor  85 

"  In  golden  triumph  rides ;..  fome  Tower  rotund 

"  Shall  to  the  Pigeons  and  their,  callow  young 

"  Safe  rooft  afford ;  and  ev'ry  buttrefs  broad, 

«•  Whofe  proud  projection  feems  a  mafs  of  ftone,,, 

B  3  Give 


6  THE    ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

"  Give  fpace  to  ftall  the  heifer,  and  the  fteed.  90 

"  So  fhall  each  part,  tho'  turn'd  to  rural  ufe, 
*'  Deceive  the  eye  with  thofe  bold  feudal  forms 
•"  That  Fancy  loves  to  gaze  on."     This  achiev'd, 
Now  nearer  home  he  calls  returning  Art 
To  hide  the  ftrudlure  rude  where  Winter  pounds  95 

In  conic  pit  his  congelations  hoar, 
That  Summer  may  his  tepid  beverage  cool 
With  the  chill  luxury;  his  Dairy  too 
There  {lands  of  form  unfightly :  both  to  veil, 
He  builds  of  old  disjointed  mofs- grown  ftone  10© 

A  time-  {truck  Abbey  *.     An  impending  grove 
Screens  it  behind  with  reverential  (hade ; 
While  bright  in  front  the  ftream  reflecting  fpreads, 
Which  winds  a  mimic  River  o'er  his  Lawn. 
The  Faae  conventual  there  is  dimly  feen,  105 

The 

*  It  was  fald  in  the  firft  Book,  ver.  384,  that  of  thofe  -architectural  Objefts  which 
improved  a  fine  natural  Englijb  profpeft,  the  two  principal  ones  were  a  Caftle  and  an 
Abbey,  In  conformity  with  this  Idea,  ALCANDE*.  &rft  begins  to  exercife  his  tafte,  by  form* 
ing  a  refemblance  of  thofe  two  capital  artificial  features,  uniting  them,  however,  *witb 
utility.  The  precept  is  here  meant  *o  be  conveyed  by  defcription,  which  had  before 
been  £iven  more  diredly  in  Book  If.  yer.  zi. 

Beauty  Icorns  to  dwell 
Where  U/e  is  ejdl'd. 


THE-   ENGLISH     GARDEN.  7 

The  mitred  Window,  and  the  Cloifter  pale, 
With  many  a  mouldering  Column ;  Ivy  foon 
Round  the  rude  chinks  her  net  of  foliage  fpreads  ^ 
Its  verdant  mefhes  feem  to  prop  the  wall. 

One  native  Glory,  more  than  all  fublime,.  no 

AL GANDER'S  fcene  pofleft  :   'Twas  Ocean's  felf 
He,  boift'rous  King,  agalnil  the  eaitern  cliffs 
Dafh'd  his  white  foam ;  a  verdant  vale  between. 
Gave  fplendid  ingrefs  to  his  world  of  waves. 
Slaunting  this  vale  the  mound  of  that  clear  ftream  115 

Lay  hid  in  (hadey,  which  flowly  lav'd  his  Lawn  i 
But  there  fet  free,  the  rill  refum'd  its  pace, 
And  hurried  to  the  Main.     The  dell  it  paft 
Was  rocky  and  retir'd  :  Here  Art  with  eafe 
Might  lead  it  o'er  a  Grot,  and  filter'd  there>  120 

Teach  it  to  fparkle  down  its  craggy  fides3. 
And  fall  and  tinkle  on  its-  pebbled  floort 
Here  then  that  Grot  he  builds,  and  conclis  with  fpars,, 
Mofs  petrified  with  branching  corallines 
In  mingled  mode  arranges :  All  found  here  125 

Propriety 


3  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

Propriety  of  place ;  what  view'd  the  Main 

Might  well  the  ftielly  gifts  of  Thetis  bear. 

Not  fo  the  inland  cave :  with  richer  ftore 

Than  thofe  the  neighboring  mines  and  mountains  yield 

To  hang  its  roof,  would  feem  incongruous  Pride,  130 

And  fright  the  local  G.enius  from  the  fcene  *. 

One  vernal  morn,  as  urging  here  the  work 
Surrounded  by  his  hinds,  from  mild  to  cold 
The  Seafon  chang'd,  from  cold  to  fudden  ftorm, 
From  florm  to  whirlwind.     To  the  angry  main  135 

Swiftly  he  turns  and  fees  a  laden  Ship 
Difmafted  by  its  rage.     *'  Hie,  hie  we  all," 
ALCANDER  cry'd,  "  quick  to  the  neighb'ring  beach." 
They  flew ;  they  came,  but  only  to  behold* 
Tremendous  fight!  the  VefTel  dafh  its  poop  140 

Amid  the  boiling  breakers.     Need  I  tell 
What  ftrenuous  Arts  were  us'd,  when  all  were  us'd, 
*To  fave  the  finking  Crew  ?  One  tender  Maid 

Alone 

•*  A  precept  is  here  rather  more  than  hinted  at ;  but  It  appeared  to  be  fo  we'll  founded 
and  yet  fo  feldom;.attended  to  by  the  fabricators  of  Grottos,  that  it  feemed  neceflary  to 
Jlide  back  a  litUc'from  the  narrative  into  the  didadlic  to  inculcate  it  the  more  ftrongly. 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  9 

Alone  efcap'd,  fav'd  by  ALCANDER'S  arm, 
Who  boldly  fwam  to  fnatch  her  from  the  plank  145 

To  which  flie  feebly  clung;  fwiftly  to  more, 
And  fwifter  to  his  home  the  youth  convey 'd 
His  clay-cold  prize,  who  at  his  portal  firft 
By  one  deep  figh  a  fign  of  Life  betray'd. 

A  Maid  fo  fav'd,  if  but  by  nature  bled  150 

With  common  charms,  had  foon  awak'd  a  flame 
More  ftrong  than  Pity,  in  that  melting  heart 
Which  Pity  vvarm'd  before.     But  (he  was  fair 
As  Poets  picture  Hebe,  or  the  Spring ; 

Graceful  withal,  as  if  each  limb  were  caft  155 

In  that  ideal  mould  whence  RAPHAEL  drew 
His  Galatea*:  Yes,  th' impaflion'd  Youth 
Felt  more  than  pity  when  he  view'd  her  charms. 
Yet  {he,  (ah,  Grange  to  tell)  tho'  much  he  lov'd, 
Suppreft  as  much  that  fympathetic  flame  160 

C  Which 

*  Alluding  to  a  Letter  of  that  famous  Painter,  written  to  his  Friend  Count  Baltafer 
Caftiglione,  when  he  was  painting  his  celebrated  piclure  of  Galatea,  in  which  he  tells 
him,  "  eflendo  careftia  di  belle  donne,  io  mi  fervo  di  certa  idea  che  viene  alia  mente." 
See  Bellori  Difcriz,  delle  imagini  dipintt  da  Raffaello  d*  Urbino,  or  the  Life  of  B.  CaiH. 
glione,  prefixt  to  the  London  Edition  of  his  Book  entitled,  77  Cortegiaito, 


io  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

Which  Love  like  his  mould  kindle  :   Did  he  kneel 

In  rapture  at  her  feet?  me  bow'd  the  head, 

And  coldly  bad  him  rife  ;  or  did  he  plead, 

In  terms  of  pureft  paffion,  for  a  fmile  ? 

She  gave  him  but  a  tear  :  his  manly  form,  165 

His  virtues,  ev  ji  the  courage  that  preferv'd 

Her  life,  befeem'd  no  fentiment  to  wake 

Warmer  than  gratitude ;  and  yet  the  love 

Withheld  from  him  me  freely  gave  his  fcenes ; 

On  all  their  charms  a  juft  applaufe  beftow'df  j^o 

And,  if  me  e'er  was  happy,  only  then 

When  wand'ring  where  thofe  charms  were  mofl  difplay*d. 

As  thro'  a  neighb'ring  Grove,  where  antient  beech 
Their  awful  foliage  flung,  ALCANDER  led 
The  penfive  maid  along,  "  Tell  me,"  me  cry'd,  175 

"  Why,  on  thefe  foreft  features  all-intent, 
"  Forbears  my  friend  fome  fcene  diftindl  to  give 
"  To  Flora  and  her  fragrance  ?  Well  I  know 
"  That  in  the  general  Landfcape's  broad  expanfe 

"  Their 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  n 

"  Their  little  blooms  are  loft ;  but  here  are  glades,  180 

"  "Circled  with  made,  yet  pervious  to  the  fun, 

"  Where,  if  enamell'd  with  their  rainbow-hues, 

"  The  eye  would  catch  their  fplendor :  turn  thy  Tafte, 

"  Ev'n  in  this  grafTy  circle  where  we  ftand, 

"  To  form  their  plots;  there  weave  a  woodbine  Bower,     185 

"  And  call  that  Bower  NERINA'S."     At  the  word 

ALCANDER  fmil'd  ;  his  fancy  inftant  form'd 

The  fragrant  fcene  me  wiQi'd  -,  and  Love,  with  Art 

Uniting,  foon  produc'd  the  finim'd  whole. 

Down  to  the  South  the  glade  by  Nature  lean'd ;  190 

Art  form'd  the  flope  ftill  fofter,  opening  there 
Its  foliage,  and  to  each  Eteiian  gale 
Admittance  free  difpenfing ;  thickeft  fhade 
Guarded  the  reft. — His  tafte  will  beft  conceive 
The  new  arrangement,  whofe  free  footfteps,  us'd  195 

To  foreft  haunts,  have  pierc'd  their  opening  dells, 
Where  frequent  tufts  of  fweetbriar,  box,  or  thorn, 
Steal  on  the  green  fward,  but  admit  fair  fpace 
For  many  a  mofTy  maze  to  wind  between. 

C  2  So 


12  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

So  here  did  Art  arrange  her  flow'ry  groups  200 

Irregular,  yet  not  in  patches  quaint  *, 

But  interpos'd  between  the  wand'ring  lines 

Of  fhaven  turf  which  twitted  to  the  path, 

Gravel  or  fand,  that  in  as  wild  a  wave 

Stole  round  the  verdant  limits  of  the  fcene;  205 

Leading  the  Eye  to  many  a  fculptur'd  bufl 

On  fhapely  pedeftal,  of  Sage,  or  Bard, 

Bright  heirs  of  fame,  who  living  lov'd  the  haunts 

So  fragrant,  fo  fequefter'd.     Many  an  Urn 

There  too  had  place,  with  votive  lay  infcrib'd  210 

To  Freedom,  Friendmip,  Solitude,  or  Love. 

And  now  each  flow'r  that  bears  tranfplanting  change,.. 
Or  blooms  indigenous,  adorn'd  the  fcene: 

Only 

*  There  is  nothing  in  pidurefque  Gardening  which  fhould  not  have  its  archetype  in 
unadorned  Nature.  Now,  as  we  never  fee  any  of  her  plains  dotted  with  diiTevered  patches 
of  any  fort  of  vegetables,  except,  perhaps,  fome  of  her  more  barren  heaths,  where  even. 
Furze  can  grow  but  fparingly,  and  which  form  the  moft  difagreeable  of  her  fcenes,  there- 
fore the  prefent  common  mode  of  dotting  clumps  of  flowers,  or  ihrubs  on  a  grafs-plat, 
without  union,  and  without  other  meaning  than  that  of  appearing  irregular,  ought  to 
be  avoided.  It  is  the  form  and  eafy  flow  of  the  grafly  interilices  (if  I  may  fo  call  them) 
that  the  defigner  ought  firfl  to  have  a  regard  to  ;  and  if  thefe  be  well  formed,  the  fpacea 
for  flowers  or  fhrubbery  will  be  at  the  fame  time  afcertamed. 


THE    ENGLISH     GARDEN.  13 

Only  NERINA'S  wifh,  her  woodbine  bower, 

Remain'd  to  crown  the  whole.     Here,  far  beyond  215 

That  humble  wifh,  her  Lover's  Genius  form'd 

A  glittering  Fane,  where  rare  and  alien  plants 

Might  fafely  flourifti*;  where  the  Citron  fvveet, 

And  fragrant  Orange,  rich  in  fruit  and  flowers, 

Might  hang  their  filver  ftars-,  their  golden  globes,.  220 

On  the  fame  odorous  flem  :  Yet  feorning  there 

The  glaify  penthoufe  of  ignoble  form, 

High  on  Ionic  fhafts  he  bad  it  tower 

A  proud  Rotunda ;  to  its  fides  conjoin'd- 

Two  broad  Piazzas  in  theatric  curve*  225 

Ending  in  equal  Porticos  fublime. 

Glafs  rooft  the  whole,  and  fidelong  to  the  South 

'Twixt  ev'ry  fluted  Column,  lightly  rear'd 

Its  wall  pellucid-.     All  within  was  day,, 

C  3.  Was 


*  M,  Le  Glradtn,  in  an  elegant  French  EfTay,  written  on  the  fame  fubje£tr  and  formed 
on  the  fame  principles,  with  this  Poem,  is  the  only  writer  that  I  have  feen  (or  at  lead 
recollecl)  who  has  attempted  to  give  a  ftove  or  hot-houfe  a  piftijrefque  effect,  It  is  his. 
hint,  purfued  and  confiderably  dilated,  which  forms  the  defcription  of  ALCANDER.** 
Confervatory.  See  his  Eflay,  De  la  composition  des  Payfages.  Geneva,  1777. 


i4  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

Was  genial  Summer's  day,  for  fecret  floves  230 

Thro'  all  the  pile  folflitial  warmth  convey'd. 

Thefe  led  thro*  ifles  of  Fragrance  to  the  Dome, 
Each  way  in  circling  quadrant.     That  bright  fpace 
Guarded  the  fpicy  tribes  from  Afric's  Ihore, 
Or  Ind,  or  Araby,  Sabaean  Plants  235 

Weeping  with  nard,  and  balfam.     In  the  midft 
A  Statue  flood,  the  work  of  Attic  Art ; 
Its  thin  light  drapery,   caft  in  fluid  folds, 
Proclaim'd  its  antientry  5  all  fave  the  head, 
Which  flole  (for  Love  is  prone  to  gentle  thefts)  240 

The  features  of  N  ERIN  A  ;  yet  that  head, 
So  perfect  in  refemblance;  all  its  air 
So  tenderly  impaffion'd  j  to  the  trunk, 
Which  Grecian  fkill  had  form'd,  fo  aptly  join'd, 
PHIDIAS  himfelf  might  feem  to  have  infpir'd  24" 

The  chiflel,  brib'd  to  do  the  am'rous  fraud. 
One  graceful  hand  held  forth  a  flow'ry  wreath, 
The  other  preft  her  zone  ;  while  round  the  bafe 
Dolphins,  and  Triton  (hells*  and  plants  marine 

Proclaim'd, 


THE    ENGLISH     GARDEN.  15 

Proclaim'd,  that  Venus,  rifing  from  the  fea,  250 

Had  veil'd  in  Flora's  modeft  veil  her  charms. 

Such  was  the  Fane,  and  fuch  the  Deity 
Who  feem'd,  with  fmile  aufpicious,  to  inhale 
That  incenfe  which  a  tributary  world 

From  all  its  regions  round  her  altar  breath'd  ;.  255 

And  yet,  when  to  the  fhrine  ALCANDER,  led 
His  living  Goddefs,  only  with  a  figh, 
And  ftarting  tear,  the  ftatue  and  the  dome 
Reluctantly  me  view'd.-    And  "  why,"  me  cry'd, 
"  Why  would,  my  beft  Prefer  ver  here  erect,,  260 

"  With  all  the  fond  idolatry  of  Love,, 
"  A  Wretch's  image  whom  his  Pride  mould  fcorn,. 
**  (For  fo  his  Country  bids  him).     Drive  me  hence,, 
"  Tranfport  me  quick  to  Gallia's  hoftile  fhore, 
**  Hoftile  to  thee,  yet  not,  alas  !  to  her  265 

"  Who  there  was  meant  to  fojourn  :  there,  perchance, 
"  My  Father,  wafted  by  more  profp'rous  gales, 
"  Now  mourns  his  Daughter  loft  ;  my  Brother  there 
"  Perhaps  now  fooths  that  venerable  age 

"He 


56  THE    ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

*'  He  mould  not  footh  alone.     Vain  thought !  perchance  270 

"  Both  perifh'd  at  Efopus — do  not  blufh, 

*'  It  was  not  thou  that  lit  the  ruthlefs  flame; 

"  It  was  not  thou,  that,  like  remorfelefs  Cain, 

"  Thirfted  for  Brother's  blood  :  thy  heart  difdains 

"  The  favage  imputation.     Reft  thee  there,  275 

**  And,  tho'  thoii  pitieft,  yet  forbear  to  grace, 

"  A  wretched  Alien,  and  a  Rebel  deem'd,, 

"  With  honors  ill-befeeming  her  to  claim. 

"  My  wim,  thou  know'ft,  was  humble  as  my  flate ; 

"  I  only  begg'd  a  little  woodbine  bower,  280 

"  Where  I  might  fit  and  weep,  w'hfle  all  around 

"  The  lilies  and  the  blue  bells  hung  their  heads 

"  In  feeming  fympathy."     "  Does  then  the  fcene 

"  Difpleafe  ?"  the  difappointed  lover  cry'd  ; 

"  Alas  !   too  much  it  pleafes,"  figh'd  the  fair ;  285 

ic  Too  ftrongly  paints  the  paflion  which  flern  Fate 

"  Forbids  me  to  return ;"  '*  Doft  thou  then  love 

"  Some  happier  youth  ?"  ."  No,   tell  thy  generous  foul 

-*•'  Indeed  I  do  not.*'     More  ihe  would  have  faid, 

But 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN,  17 

But  gufhing  grief  prevented.     From  the  Fane  2.90 

Silent  he  led  her  j  as  from  Eden's  bower 
The  Sire  of  Men  his  weeping  Partner  led* 
Lefs  lovely,  and  lefs  innocent  than  (he. 

Yet  ftill  ALCANDER  hop'd  what  laft  me  figh'd 
Spoke  more  than  gratitude ;  the  War  might  end ;  295 

Her  Father  might  confent ;  for  that  alone 
Now  feem'd  the  duteous  barrier  to  his  blifs* 
Already  had  he  fent  a  faithful  friend 
To  learn  if  France  the  reverend  Exile  held : 
That  friend  return'd  not.     Mean-while  ev'ry  fun  300 

Which  now  (a  year  elaps'd)  diurnal  rofe 
Beheld  her  flill  more  penfive  $  inward  Pangs, 
From  grief's  concealment,  hourly  feem'd  to  force 
Health  from  her  cheek,  and  Quiet  from  her  foul. 
ALCANDER  mourn'd  the  change,  yet  ftill  he  hop'd  -,  305 

For  Love  to  Hope  his  flickering  taper  lends, 
When  Reafon  with  his  fteady  torch  retires : 
Hence  did  he  try  by  ever-varying  arts, 
And  fcenes  of  novel  charm  her  grief  to  calm. 

D  Nor 


i8  THE    ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

Nor  did  he  not  employ  the  Syren  Powers  310 

Of  Mufic  and  of  Song  ;  or  Painting,   thine, 
-Sweet  fource  of  pure  delight !  But  I  record 
Thofe  arts  alone,  which  form  my  fylvan  theme. 

At  ftated  hours,  full  oft  had  he  obferv'd, 
She  fed  with  welcome  grain  the  houfehold  fowl  315 

That  trefpaft  on  his  lawn  ->  this  wak'd  a  wifh 
To  give  her  feather'd  fav'rites  fpace  of  land, 
And  lake  appropriate  :  in  a  neighb'ring  copfe 
He  plann'd  the  fcene ;  for  there  the  cryftal  fpring, 
Thatform'd  his  river,  from  a  rocky  cleft  320 

Firft  bubbling  broke  to  day  -y  and  fpreading  there 
Slept  on  its  rumes.     "  Here  my  delving  hinds," 
He  cry'd,  *'  fhall  foon  the  marfhy  foil  remove, 
"  And  fpread,  in  brief  extent,  a  glittering  Lake 
4t  Chequer'd  with  ifles  of  verdure;  on  yon  Rock  325 

"  A  fculptur'd  River-God  (hall  reft  his  urn  ; 
"  And  thro'  that  urn  the  native  fountain  flow. 
•*'  Thy  wifh'd-for  bower,  NERINA,  fhall  adorn 
jr<  The  fouthern  bank  j  the  downy  race,  that  iwim 

"The 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  19 

"  The  lake,  or  pace  the  more,  with  livelier  charms,          330 

*'  Yet  no  lefs  rural,  here  will  meet  thy  glance, 

*'  Than  flowers  inanimate."     Full  loon  was  fcoopt 

The  wat'ry  bed,  and  foon,  by  margin  green, 

And  riling  banks,  inclos'd ;  the  higheft  gave 

Site  to  a  ruftic  fabric,  fhelving  deep  335 

Within  the  thicket,  and  in  front  compos'd 

Of  three  unequal  arches,  lowly  all 

The  furer  to  expel  the  noontide  glare, 

Yet  yielding  liberal  inlet  to  the  fcene ; 

Woodbine  with  jafmine  carelefsly  entwin'd  340 

Conceal'd  the  needful  mafonry,  and  hung 

In  free  feftoons,  and  veiled  all  the  cell. 

Hence  did  the  lake,  the  iflands,  and  the  rock, 

A  living  landfcape  fpread ;  the  feather'd  fleet, 

Led  by  two  mantling  fwans,  at  ev'ry  creek  34.5 

Now  touch'd,  and  now  unmoor'd ;  now  on  full  fail,. 

With  pennons  fpread  and  oary  feet  they  ply'd 

Their  vagrant  voyage  -,  and  now,  as  if  becalm'd, 

'Tween  more  and  (hore  at  anchor  feem'd  to  fleep. 

D  a  Around 


20  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

Around  thofe  mores  the  Fowl  that  fear  the  ftream  35© 

At  random  rove  :  hither  hot  Guinea  fends 

Her  gadding  troop  ;  here  midft  his  fpeckled  Dames 

The  pigmy  Chanticleer  of  Bantam  winds 

His  clarion  ;  while,  fuprerne  .in  glittering  ftate, 

The  Peacock  fpreads  his  rainbow  train,  with  eyes  355 

Of  fapphire  bright,  irradiate  each  with  gold. 

Mean-while  from  ev'ry  fpray  the  Ringdoves  coo, 

The  Linnets  warble,  captive  none  *,   but  lur'd 

By  food  to  haunt  the  umbrage  :  all  the  Glade 

Js  .Life,  is  Mufic,  Liberty,  and  Love.  ^60 

And  is  there  now  to  Pleafure  or  to  Ufe 
One  fcene  devoted  in  the  wide  domain 
Its  Mafter  has  not  polim'd  ?   Rumour  fpreads 
Its  praifes  far,  and  many  a  ftranger  flops 
With  curious  eye  to  cenfure  or  admire,  365 

To 

*  See  RoufTeau's  Charming  defcription  of  the  Garden  of  Julie,  Nouvelle  Eloife,  4  par- 
tie.  Lett.  \\th.  In  confequence  of  purfuing  his  idea,  no  birds  are  introduced  into  AL- 
, GANDER'S  Menagerie,  butfuch  as  are  either  domeflicated,  or  chufe  to  vifit  it  for  the 
fecurity  and  food  they  find  there.  If  any  of  my  more  delicate  readers  wifli  to  have  theirs 
ibcked  with  rarer  kind  of  fowls,  they  muft  invent  a  pi&urefque  Bird-cage  for  themfelves. 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  21 

To  all  his  Lawns  are  pervious ;  oft  himfelf 

With  courteous  greeting  will  the  critic  hail, 

And  join  him  in  the  circuit.     Give  we  here 

(If  Candour  will  with  patient  ear  attend) 

The  focial  dialogue  AL GANDER  held  37© 

With  one,  a  Youth  of  mild  yet  manly  mein, 

Who  feem'd  to  tafte  the  beauties  he  furvey'd. 

"  Little,  I  fear  me,  will  a  ftranger's  eye 
ee  Find  here  to  praife,  where  rich  Vitruvian  Art 
M  Has  rear'd  no  temples,  no  triumphal  arcs ;  375 

"  Where  no  Palladian  bridges  fpan  the  ftream, 
"  But  all  is  homebred  Fancy."     "  For  that  caufe, 
"  And  chiefly  that,"  the  polifh'd  Youth  reply'd, 
"  I  view  each  part  with  rapture.     Ornament, 
"  When  foreign  or  fantaftic,  never  charm'd  380 

"  My  judgment;  here  I  tread  on  Britifh  ground; 
"  With  Britim  annals  all  I  view  accords. 
«'  Some  Yorkift,  or  Lancaftrian  Baron  bold, 
"  To  awe  his  vafTals,  or  to  ftem  his  foes, 
"  Yon  mafly  bulwark  built ;  on  yonder  pile,  385 

03  "  In 


22  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN, 

"  In  ruin  beauteous,  I  diftinctly  mark 

"  The  ruthlefs  traces  of  flern  HENRY'S  hand. 


"  Yet,"  cry'd  ALCANDER,  (interrupting  mild 
The  Granger's  fpeech)  "  if  fo  yon  antient  feat, 
"  Pride  of  my  anceflors,  had  mock'd  repair,  390 

"  And  by  Proportion's  Greek  or  Roman  laws 
"  That  pile  had  been  rebuilt,  thou  wouldft  not  then, 
"  I  truft,  have  blam'd,  if,  there  on  Doric  fhafts 
"  A  temple  rofej  if  fome  tall  obelifk 

"  O'ertopt  yon  grove,  or  bold  triumphal  arch  395 

"  Ufurpt  my  Cattle's  flation." — "  Spare  me  yet 
"  Yon  folemn  Ruin,"  the  quick  youth  return'd, 
"  No  mould'ring  aqueduct,  no  yawning  crypt 
"  Sepulchral,  will  confole  me  for  its  fate." 

"  I  mean  not  that,"  the  Mafter  of  the  fcene  400 

Reply'd  j  "  tho'  claflic  rules  to  modern  piles 
"  Should  give  the  jufl  arrangement,  fhun  we  here 
*«  By  thofc  to  form  our  Ruins  -,  much  we  own 

"  They 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  23 

"  They  pleafe,  when,  by  PANINI'S  pencil  drawn, 

"  Or  darkly  grav'd  by  PIRANESI'S  hand,  405 

"  And  fitly  might  fome  Tufcan  garden  grace ; 

"  But  Time's  rude  mace  has  here  all  Roman  piles 

"  Levell'd  fo  low,  that  who,  on  Britim  ground 

."  Attempts  the  tafk,  builds  but  a  fplendid  lye 

"  Which  mocks  hiftoric  credence.     Hence  the  caufe         410 

"  Why  Saxon  piles  or  Norman  here  prevail : 

"  Form  they  a  rude,  'tis  yet  an  Englifh  whole." 

<f  And  much  I  praife  thy  choice,"  the  ftranger  cry'd ; 
*'  Such  chafle  felection  mames  the  common  mode, 
*'  Which,  mingling  ftrudures  of  far  diftant  times,  41  £ 

*'  Far  diftant  regions,  here,  perchance,  eredls 
"  A  fane  to  Freedom,  where  her  BRUTUS  ilands 
* (  In  aft  to  ftrike  the  tyrant ;  there  a  Tent, 
"  With  crefcent  crown'd,  with  fcymitars  adorn'd, 
"  Meet  for  fome  BAJAZET;  northward  we  turn,  420 

*'  And  lo  !  a  pigmy  Pyramid  pretends 
"  We  tread  the  realms  of  PHARAOH;  quickly  thence 
"  Our  fcuthern  ftep  prefents  us  heaps  of  flone 

"  Rang'd  ia  a  DRUID  circle.     Thus  from  aga 

"  To 


24  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

"  To  age,  from  clime  to  clime  incelTant  borne,  425 

"  Imagination  flounders  headlong  on, 

*'  Till,  like  fatigu'd  VILLARIO  *,  foon  we  find 

"  We  better  like  a  fiekl."     "  Nicely  thy  hand 

"  The  childim  landfcape  touches,"  cries  his  hoft, 

"  For  Fafhion  ever  is  a  wayward  child  j  43® 

"  Yet  fure  we  might  forgive  Her  faults  like  thefe, 

"  If  but  in  feparate  or  in  fingle  fcenes 

"  She  thus  with  Fancy  wanton'd  :  Should  I  lead 

"  Thy  ftep,  my  Friend,   (for  our  accordant  taftes 

"  Prompt  me  to  give  thee  that  familiar  name)  435 

"  Behind  this  fcreen  of  Elm,  thou  there  might'fl:  find 

'"  I  too  had  idly  play'd  the  truant's  part, 

"  And  broke  the  bounds  of  judgment."     "  Lead  me  there," 

Briikly  the  Youth  return'd,  "  for  having  prov'd 

"  Thy  Epic  Genius  here,  why  not  perufe  440 

"  Thy  lighter  Ode  or  Eclogue  ?"  Smiling  thence 

ALCANDER  led  him  to  the  Woodbine  bower 

Which  laft  our  Song  defcrib'd,  who  feated  there, 

In  filent  tranfport  view'd  the  lively  fcene, 

JC 

'*  See  Dope's  EpiHle  to  Lord  -Burlington,  ver.  8S, 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  25 

"  I  fee,"  his  hofl  refum'd,  "  my  fportive  art  445 

*(  Finds  pardon  here;  not  ev'n  yon  claffic  form, 
"  Pouring  his  liquid  treafures  from  his  vafe, 
"  Tho'  foreign  from  the  foil,  provokes  thy  frown.    * 
"  Try  we  thy  candor  further :  higher  art, 
"  And  more  luxurious,  haply  too  more  vain,  450 

"  Adorns  yon  fouthern  coppice."     On  they  paft 
Thro'  a  wild  thicket,  till  the  perfum'd  air 
Gave  to  another  fenfe  its  prelude  rich 
On  what  the  eye  fhould  feaft.     But  now  the  grove 
Expands ;  and  now  the  Rofe,  the  garden's  Queen,  455 

Amidft  her  blooming  fubjeclis'  humbler  charms, 
On  ev'ry  plot  her  crimfon  pomp  difplays. 
"  Oh  Paradife  !"  the  ent'ring  youth  exclaim'd, 
*'  Groves  whofe  rich  trees  weep  odorous  gums  and  balm, 
*'  Others  whofe  fruit,  burnifh'd  with  golden  rind,  460 

E  "  Hang 

*  It  is  hoped  that,  from  the  petition  of  this  River-God  in  the  menagerie ;  from  the 
fituation  of  the  bufls  and  vafes  in  the  flower-garden ;  and  that  of  the  ftatue  in  the  con- 
fervatory,  the  reader  will  deduce  the  following  general  precept,  "  that  all  adventitious 
ornaments  of  fculpture  ought  either  to  be  accompanied  with  a  proper  back-ground,  (as 
the  Painters  term  it)  or  introduced  as  a  part  of  architectural  fcenery  ;  and  that  when, 
on  the  contrary,  they  are  placed  in  open  lawns  or  parterres,  according  to  the  old  mode, 
they  become,  like  Antaeus  and  Enceladus,  mentioned  in  the  beginning  of  this  book, 
mere  /care-crows." 


26  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

"  Hang  amiable,  Hefperian  fables  true, 

"  If  true,  here  only  *."     Thus,  in  Milton's  phrafe 

Sublime,  the  youth  his  admiration  pour'd, 

While  paffing  to  the  dome ;  his  next  fhort  flep 

Unveil'd  the  central  ftatue  :   "  Heav'ns  !  juft  Heav'ns,"      465 

He  cry'd,  "  tis  my  NERINA."     "  Thine,  mad  Youth  ? 

"  Forego  the  word,"  ALCANDER  faid,  and  paus'd; 

His  utterance  fail'd ;  a  thoufand  cluft'ring  thoughts, 

And  all  of  blackeft  omen  to  his  peace, 

Recoil'd  upon  his  brain,  deaden'd  all  fenfe,  470 

And  at  the  ftatue's  baft  him  headlong  caft, 

A  lifelefs  load  of  being. — Ye,  whofe  hearts 

Are  ready  at  Humanity's  foft  call 

To  drop  the  tear,  I  charge  you  weep  not  yet, 

But  fearfully  fufpend  the  bunding  woe  :  475 

NERINA'S  felf  appears;  the  further  ifle 

She,  fate-dire&ed,  treads.     Does  me  too  faint  ? 

Would  Heav'n  me  could !  it  were  a  happy  fwoon 

Might  foften  her  fixt  form,  more  rigid  now 

Thaa 

•  See  Milton's  Paradife  Loft,  book  iv.  ver.  248*  &c. 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  27 

Than  is  her  marble  femblance.     One  ftiff  hand  480 

Lies  leaden  on  her  breaft  ;  the  other  rais'd 

To  heav'n,  and  half-way  clench'd ;  ftedfafl  her  eyes, 

Yet  viewlefs  ;  and  her  lips,  which  op'd  to  fhriek, 

Can  neither  fhriek  nor  clofe  :  So  might  me  Hand 

For  ever  :  He,  whofe  fight  caus'd  the  dread  change,  485 

Tho'  now  he  clafps  her  in  his  anxious  arms, 

Fails  to  unbend  one  fmew  of  her  frame; 

'Tis  ice;  'tis  fleel.     But  fee,  ALCANDER  wakes; 

And  waking,  as  by  magic  fympathy, 

NERINA  whifpers,  "  All  is  well,  my  friend;  490 

"  'Twas  but  a  viiion ;  I  may  yet  revive — — 

"  But  ftill  his  arm  fupports  me;  aid  him,  friend, 

"  And  bear  me  fwiftly  to  my  woodbine  bower; 

*'  For  there  indeed  I  wifh  to  breathe  my  laft." 

So  faying,  her  cold  cheek,  and  parched  brow,  495 

Turn'd  to  a  livid  palenefs ;  her  dim  eyes 
Sunk  in  their  fockets ;  fharp  contraction  preft 
Her  temples,  ears,  and  noflrils :  figns  well  known 

E  2  Ta 


28  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

To  thofe  that   tend  the  dying.  *     Both  the  youths 

Perceiv'd  the  change ;  and  had  ftern  Death  himfelf  500 

Wav'd  his  black  banner  vifual  o'er  their  heads, 

It  could  not  more  appall.     With  trembling  flep, 

And  filent,  both  convey'd  her  to  the  bower^ 

Her  languid  limbs  there  decently  compos'd, 
She  thus  her  fpeech  refum'd  :   "  Attend  my  words  505 

"  Brave  CLEON  I  dear  ALCANDER  !  generous  Pair: 
"  For  both  have  tender  intereft  in  this  heart 
"  Which  foon  {hall  beat  no  more.     That  I  am  thine 
*'  By  a  dear  Father's  juft  commands  I  own,, 
"  Much  honour'd  CLEON  !  take  the  hand  he  gave,  510 

"  And  with  it,  Oh,  if  I  could  give  my  heart, 
"  Thou  wert  its  worthy  owner.     All  I  can, 
"  (And  that  preferv'd  with  chafteft  fealty) 
"  Duteous  I  give  thee,  CLEON  it  is  thine  ^ 

"  Not 

*  Thefe  lines  are  taken  from  the  famous  paflage  in  Hippocrates  in  his  book  of  Prog- 
noftics,  which  has  been  held  fo  accurately  defcriptive,  that  dying  perfons  are,  from 
hence,  ufually  faid  to  have  the  fades  Hippocratica.  The  paflage  is  as  follows :  P<f 
•4>r<*,  opSaty/oJ  xotXo»,  xfoTa^ot  ^/*>nrtOTlwxoTf?,  uta.  4'^pa  xj  |t;»6ra^/*e>a,  »ej  o  Ac'foi  rut 
vrut  dirirfatpiAitot,  xj  TO  teppx  rtt  Tregl  TO  /*/]<y«70»,  crxA^poV  Tt  xj  iti^.a.^ 
*tr,  xj  TO  Xgw^a  TB  &(Ht*fo'  v^ffutffV  p^Xwgoy  re  y  »£  ^<n»  tin  x}  TTtAisv  ^ 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  29 

<*  Not  ev'n  this  dear  preferver,  e'er  could  gain  515- 

"  More  from  my  foul  than  Friendship — that  be  his; 

*'  Yet  let  me  own,  what,  dying,  fooths  the  pang,- 

"  That,  had  thyfelf  and  duty  ne'er  been  known, 

"  He  muft  have  had  my  love."     She  paus'd;  and  dropt 

A  filent  tear ;  then  preft  the  Stranger's  hand  ;  520- 

Then  bow'd  her  head  upon  ALCANDER'S  breaft, 

And  "  blefs  them  both,  kind  Heav'n !"  fhe  pray'd  and  died, 

"  And  bleft  art  thou,"  cry'd  CLEON,  (in  a  voice- 
Struggling  with  grief  for  utterance)  bleft  to  die 
"  Ere  thou  hadft  queftion'd  me,  and  I  perforce  525" 

"  Had  told  a  tale  which  muft  have  fent  thy  foul 
"  In  horror  from  thy  bofom.     Now  it  leaves 
"  A  fmile  of  peace  upon  thofe  pallid  lips, 
"  That  fpeaks  its  parting  happy.     Go  fair  faint  \ 
"  Go  to  thy  palm-crown'd  father  1   thron'd  in  blifs,  530 

"  And  feated  by  his  fide,    thou  wilt  not  now 
"  Deplore  the  favage  ftroke  that  feal'd  his  doom ^ 
"  Go  hymn  the  Fount  of  Mercy,   who,  from  ill 
**  Educing  good,  makes  ev'n  a  death  like  his, 

E  3  "A 


5o  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

•"  A  life  furcharg'd  with  tender  woes  like  thine,  535 

"  The  road  to  Joys  eternal.     Maid,   farewell  ! 

"  I  leave  the  cafket  that  thy  virtues  held 

"  To  Him  whofe  breaft  fuflains  it ;  more  belov'd,   , 

*<  Perhaps  more  worthy,  yet  not  loving  more 

*'  Than  did  thy  wretched  CLEON."     At  the  word  540 

He  bath'd  in  tears  the  hand  me  dying  gave, 

Return'd  it  to  her  fide,   and  hafly  rofe. 

ALCANDER,   flatting  from  his  trance  of  grief, 

Cry'd  "  flay,  I  charge  thee  flay/'   "  and  mail  he  flay," 

CLEON  reply'd,  "  whofe  prefence  flabb'd  thy  peace  ?  545 

"  Hear  this  before  we  part :  That  breathlefs  Maid 

"  Was  daughter  to  a  venerable  Sage, 

"  Whom  Boflon,  when  with  peace  and  fafety  blefl^ 

"  In  rapture  heard  pour  from  his  hallow'd  tongue 

"  Religion's  pureft  dictates.     'Twas  my  chance,  $$Q 

"  In  early  period  of  our  civil  broils, 

"  To  fave  his  precious  life  :  And  hence  the  Sire 

"  Did  to  my  love  his  Daughter's  charms  confign  j 

**  But,  till  the  war  fhould  ceafe,    if  ever  ceafe, 

-"  Deferr'd 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  3* 

f{  Deferr'd  our  nuptials.     Whither  {he  was  fent  555 

"  In  fearch  of  fafety,  well,  I  truft,  thou  know'ft  ;, 

"  He  meant  to  follow ;   but  thofe  ruthlefs  flames, 

"  That  fpar'd  nor  friend  nor  foe,    nor  fex  nor  age,. 

"  Involv'd  the  village,  where  on  fickly  couch 

"  He  lay  confm'd,  and  whither  he  had  fled  560 

"  Awhile  to  fojourn.     There  (I  fee  thee  flirink) 

"  Was  he  that  gave  NERINA  being  burnt ! 

"  Burnt  by  thy  Countrymen  !  to  Afhes  burnt ! 

'*  Fraternal  hands  and  chriflian  lit  the  flame. -*- 

"  Oh  thou  haft  caufe  to  fhudder.     I  meanwhile.  565 

"  With  his  brave  fon  a  diftant  warfare  wag'd  ; 

"  And  him,  now  I  have  found  the  prize  I  fought, 

"  And  finding  loft,   I  haften  to  rejoin  ;. 

w  Vengeance  and  glory  call  me."     At  the  word,. 

Not  fiercer  does  the  Tigrefs  quit  her  cave  570 

To  feize  the  hinds  that  robb'd  her  of  her  young, 

Than  he  the  Bower.     "  Stay,   I  conjure  thee,  ftay," 

ALCANDER  cry'd,  but  ere  the  word  was  fpoke 

CLEON  was  feen  no  more.     "  Then  be  it  fo," 

The 


32  THE     ENGLISH    GARDEN. 

The  youth  continu'd,  clafping  to  his  heart  575 

The  heauteous  corfe,  and  fmiling  as  he  fpoke, 

(Yet  fuch  a  fmile  as  far  out-forrows  tears) 

"  Now  thou  art  mine  entirely — Now  no  more 

"  Shall  Duty  dare  difturb  us — Love  alone — 

«•'  -But  hark  !  he  comes  again — Away  vain  fear !  580 

"  'Twas  but  the  fluttering  of  thy  feather'd  flock. 

"  True  to  their  cuftom'd  hour,  behold  they  troop 

"  From  ifland,  grove,  and  lake.     Arife  my  Love, 

"  Extend  thy  hand — I  lift  it,  but  it  falls. 

"  Hence  then,   fond  fools,  and  pine  !  NERINA'S  hand       585 

"  Has  loft  the  power  to  feed  you.     Hence  and  die." 

Thus  plaining,  to  his  lips  the  icy  palm 
He  lifted,  and  with  ardent  paflion  kift, 
Then  cry'd  in  agony,  "  on  this  dear  hand, 
"  Once  tremblingly  alive  to  Love's  foft  touch,  590 

*'  I  hop'd  to  feal  my  faith :"  This  thought  awak'd 
Another  fad  foliloquy,  which  they, 
Whoe'er  have  lov'd,  will  from  their  hearts  fupply, 
And  they  who  have  not  will  but  hear  and  fmile. 

And 


THE    ENGLISH    GARDEN.  33 

And  let  them  fmile,  but  let  the  fcorners  learn  595 

There  is  a  folemn  luxury  in  grief 
Which  they  mall  never  tafte ;  well  known -to  thofe, 
And  only  thofe,  in  Solitude's  deep  gloom' 
Who  heave  the  figh  fmcerely :   Fancy  there 
Waits  the  fit  moment;  and,  when  Time  has  calm'd          6c<t> 
The  firft  o'erwhelming  tempeft  of  their  woe,. 
Piteous  me  fteals  upon  the  mourner's  breaft . 
Her  precious  balm  to  Hied  :  -Oh,  it  has  power, . 
Has  magic  power  to  foften  and  to  footh, 

Thus   duly   minifter'd.'     ALCANDER  felt  605 

The  charm,  yet  not  till  many  a  ling'ring  moon 
Had  hung  upon  heK  zenitli  o'er  his  couch,^ 
And  heard  his  midnight  wailings.     Does  he  ftray 
But  near  the  fated  temple,  or  the  bower  ? 
He  feels  a  chilly  monitor  within,.  610 

Who  bids  him  panfe.     Does  he  at  diftance  view 
His  grot?  'tis  darken'd  with  NERINA'S  ftorm 
Ev'n  at  the  blaze  of  noon.     Yet  there  are  walks 
The  loft  one  never  trodr  and  there  are  feats 

F.  Where 


34  THE    ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

Where  he  was  never  happy  by  her  fide,  615 

And  thefe  he  ftill  can  figh  in.     Here  at  length, 

As  if  by  chance,  kind  Fancy  brought  her  aid, 

When  wand'ring  thro'  a  grove  of  fable  yew, 

Rais'd  by  his  anceftors  ;  their  Sabbath-path 

Led  thro'  its  gloom,  what  time  too  dark  a  ftole  620 

Was  o'er  Religion's  decent  features  drawn 

By  Puritanic  zeal.  •    Long  had  their  boughs 

Forgot  the  fheers ;  the  fpire,  the  holy  ground 

They  banifh'd  by  their  umbrage.     "  What  if  here," 

Cry'd  the  fweet  Soother,  in  a  whifper  foft,  625 

"  Some  open  fpace  were  form'd,  where  other  fhades, 

"  Yet  all  of  folemn  fort,  Cyprefs  and  Bay 

"  Funereal,  penfive  Birch  its  languid  arms 

"  That  droops,  with  waving  Willows  deem'd  to  weep, 

"  And  miv'ring  Afpens  mixt  their  varied  green  ;  635 

"  What  if  yon  trunk,  (horn  of  its  murky  crefi:, 

"  Reveal'd  the  facred  Fane  ?"  ALCANDER  heard 

The  Charmer ;  ev'ry  accent  feem'd  his  own, 

.So  much  they  touch'd  his  heart's  fad  unifon, 

"  Yes, 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  35 

"  Yes,  yes,"  he  cry'd,  "  Why  not  behold  it  all  ?  635 

"  That  bough  remov'd  (hews  me  the  very  vault 

"  Where  my  NERINA  fleeps,  and  where,  when  Heav'n 

"  In  pity  to  my  plaint  the  mandate  feals, 

"  My  duft  with  her's  (hall  mingle."     Now  his  hinds, 

Call'd  to  the  tafk,  their  willing  axes  wield  ;  640 

Joyful  to  fee,  as  witlefs  of  the  caufe, 

Their  much-lov'd  Lord  his  fyivan  arts  refumc. 

And  next,  within  the  centre  of  the  gloom, 

A  med  of  twifting  roots  and  living  mofs, 

With  rumes  thatch'd,  with  wattled  oziers  lin'd,  645 

He  bids  them  raife  * :  it  feem'd  a  Hermit's  cell ;, 

F  2  Yet 


*  If  this  building  is  found  to  be  in  its  right  pofition,  ftru&ures  of  the  fame  kind 
will  be  thought  improperly  placed  when  fituated,  as  they  frequently  are,  on  an   emi- 
nence commanding  an  extenfive  profpeft.     I  have  either  feen  or  heard  of  one  of  this 
kind,  where  the  builder  feeined  to  be  fo  much  convinced  of  its  incongruity,  that  he 
endeavoured  to  atone  for  it  by  the  following  ingenious  motto: 
Defpicere  unde  queas  a!ios,  paflimquc  videre 
Errare,  arque  viam  palanteis  quaerere  vitae.     Luc.  lib.  it.  v.  9. 

But  it  may  be  faid,  that  ical  Hermitages  are  frequent  y  found  on  high  mountains.  Yet 
there  the  difficulty  of  accefs  gives  that  idea  of  retirement,  not  eafily  to  be  conveyed  by 
imitations  of  them  in  a  garden  fcene,  without  much  accompanving  ihade  and  that  low- 
nefs  of  fituation,  which  occafions  a  feclufion  from  all  gay  obje&s. 


36  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

Yet  void  of  hour-glafs, .  fcull,  and  maple  difli, 
.Its  mimic  garniture  :  ALCANDER'S  tafte 
Difdains  to.  trick  with  emblematic  toys 

The  place  where  He  and  Melancholy  mean  -6.50 

To  fix  NERINA'S  buft,  her  genuine  buft, 
^he  model  of  the  marble.     There  he  hides, 
Clofe  as  a  Mifer's  gold,  the  fculptur'd  clay ; 
And  but  at  early  morn  and  lateft  eve 

Unlocks  the  fimple  fhrine,  and  heaves  a  figh ;  .655 

Then  does  he  turn,  and  thro*  the  glimm'ring  glade 
Caft  a  long  glance,  upon  her  houfe  of  death ; 
Then  views  the  bufh  again,  and  drops  a  tear. 

Is  this  idolatry,  ye  fage  ones  fay  ? — 

Or,  if  ye  doubt,  go  view  the  num'rous  train  #60 

Of  poor  and  fatherlefs  his  .care  confoles  ; 

•The  fight  will  tell  thee,  he  that  dries  their  tears 

Has  unfeen  angels  hov'ring  o'er  his  head, 

leave  their  heav'n  to  fee  him  ftied  his  .own. 


Here 


THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN.  37 

Here  dole  we,  fweet  SIMPLICIY  !  the  tale,  665 

And  with  it  let  us  yield  to  youthful  bards 
That  Dorian  reed  we  but  awak'd  to  voice 
When  Fancy  prompted,  and  when  Leifure  fmil'd  ; 
Hopelefs  of  general  praife,  and  well  repaid, 
If  they  of  clailic  ear,  unpall'd  by  rhyme,  670 

Whom  changeful  paufe  can  pleafe,  and  numbers  free, 
Accept  our  fong  with  candour.     They  perchance, 
Led  by  the  Mufe  to  folitude  and  (hade, 
May  turn  that  Art  we  fiug  to  foothing  ufe, 
At  this  ill-omen'd  hour,  when  Rapine  rides  675 

In  titled  triumph ;  when  Corruption  waves 
Her  banners  broadly  in  the  face  of  day, 
And  mews  th'  indignant  world  the  hoft  of  flaves 
She  turns  from  Honour's  flandard.     Patient  there, 
Yet  not  defponding,  (hall  the  fons  of  Peace  680 

Await  the  day,  when,  fmarting  with  his  wrongs, 
Old  England's  Genius  wakes ;  when  with  him  wakes 
That  plain  Integrity,  Contempt  of  gold, 
Difdain  of  ilav'ry,  liberal  Awe  of  rule, 

F  3  Which 


38  THE     ENGLISH     GARDEN. 

Which  fixt  the  rights  of  People,  Peers,  and  Prince,         685 

And  on  them  founded  the  majeftic  pile 

Of  BRITISH  FREEDOM;  bad  fair  ALBION  rife 

The  fcourge  of  tyrants ,  fovereign  of  the  feas ; 

And  arbitrefs  of  empires.     Oh  return, 

Ye  long-loft  train  of  Virtues  !  fwift  return  690 

To  fave  ('tis  ALBION  prompts  your  Poet's  prayer) 

Her  Throne,,  her  Altars,  and  her  laureat  Bowers. 


• 

THE    END, 


GENERAL     POSTSCRIPT. 

FE  W  Poems,  in  the  courfe  of  their  compofition,  have 
been  laid  afide  and  relumed  more  cafually,  or,  in  con- 
fequence,  publimed  more  leifurely,  than  the  foregoing ;  on 
which  account,  while  it  does  not  pretend  to  the  Horatian  merit 
of  a  nine-years  fcrutiny  under  the  correcting  hand  of  its  Au- 
thor, it  will  not  thence,  he  may  perhaps  hope,  be  found  to 
have  that  demerit  which  arifes  from  ill-connected  parts  and 
an  indigefted  plan.  For,  as  a  fcheme  was  formed  for  the  whole 
four  books  before  even  the  firft  was  written;  and  as  that 
fcheme  has  fince  been  purfued  with  very  little,  if  any  devia- 
tion, it  is  prefumed  that  the  three  latter  books  will  be  found 
flrictly  confonant  with  the  general  principles  advanced  in  the 
former ;  which,  as  it  contained  the  principles,  and  ended 
epifodically  with  a  kind  of  hifloric  deduction  of  the  rife  and 
progrefs  of  the  Art,  might  have  been  confidered  in  the  light 
of  an  entire  work,  (as  the  advertifement  before  it  hinted)  had 
the  fucceeding  books  been  never  written. 

However,  as  the  whole  defign   is  at  length  completed,  it 
may  not  be  amifs  to  give  in  this  place  a  fliort  analyfis  of  the 

fevcral 


4o  GENERAL     POSTSCRIPT. 

feveral  books,  in  their  order,  to  fhew  their  connection  one 
with  another;  and  to  obviate  a  few  objections  which  have 
been  made  to  certain  parts  of  each,  by  fome  perfons  whofe 
opinions  I  highly  refpect  ;  objections  which  I  flatter  myfelf 
might  arife  from  their  having  examined  thofe  parts  feparately, 
as  the  feparate  publication  of  the  books  neceffarily  led  them  to* 
do  -,  and  which,  perhaps,  had  they  feen  the  whole  together,^ 
they  would  not  have  found  of  fo  much  importance. 


I.  The  firfl  book,  as  I  have  faid,  contains  the 
Principles  of  the  Art,  which  are  (hewn  to  be  no  other  than: 
thofe  which  conftitute  Beauty  in  the  lifter  art  of  Landfcape 
Painting;  Beauty  which  refults  from  a  well-chofen  variety  of 
curves,  in  contradiftinction  to  that  of  Architecture  which 
arifes  from  a  judicious  fymmetiy  of  right  lines,  and  which 
is  there  fhewn  to  have  afforded  the  principle  on  which  that- 
formal  difpofition  of  Garden  Ground,  which  our  ancestors- 
borrowed  from  the  French  and  Dutch,  proceeded.  A  principle 
never  adopted  by  Nature  herfelf,  and  therefore  conilantly  to 
be  avoided  by  thofe  whofe  bufinefs  it  is  to  embellifh  Nature* 


GENERAL     POSTSCRIPT.  41 

I  know  of  no  objection  that  has  been  made  to  any  thing 
that  I  have  afferted  on  this  head,  except  to  that  part  in  which 
I  have  exploded  Viftas  and  Avenues,  which,  it  has  been  faid, 
have  in  themfelves  a  confiderable  mare  of  intrinfic  beauty.  I 
am  myfelf  far  from  denying  this ;  1  only  affert  that  their 
beauty  is  not  picturefque  beauty ;  and  therefore,  that  it  is  to 
be  rejected  by  thofe  who  follow  picturefque  principles.  It  is 
architectural  beauty,  and  accords  only  with  architectural 
works.  Where  the  Artifl  follows  thofe  principles,  viftas 
,are  certainly  admiflible ;  and  the  French,  who  have  fo  long 
followed  them,  have  therefore  not  improperly  (though  one 
cannot  help  fmiling  at  the  title)  given  us  in  their  Dictionary 
of  Sciences,  an  article  of  Architecture  du  Jardinage.  But  did 
Gafpar  PoufTm,  or  Claude  Lorrain,  ever  copy  thefe  beauties 
on  their  canvas  ?  Or  would  they  have  produced  a  picturefque 
effect  by  their  means  if  they  had  ?  I  think  this  iingle  con- 
fideration  will  induce  every  perfon  of  common  tafte  to  allow 
that  thefe  two  principles  oppofe  one  another,  and  that,  when- 
ever they  appear  together,  they  offend  the  eye  of  the  beholder 
by  their  heterogeneous  beauty  :  If  therefore  viftas  are  ever  to 
be  admitted,  or  rather  to  be  retained,  it  is  only  where  they 
form  an  approach  to  fome  fuperb  manfion,  fo  fituated,  that 

G  the 


42  GENERAL     POSTSCRIPT. 

the  principal  profpect  and  ground  allotted  to  piclurefque  im- 
provement lie  entirely  on  the  other  fide;  fo  much  fo,  that  ths 
two  different  modes  of  planting  can   never  appear  together 
from  any  given  point  of  view;  and  this  is  the  utmoft  that  I. 
can  concede  on  this  fubject. 

II.  The  piclurefque  principle  beirrg  thus  effoblimed  in  the 
iirft  book,  as  well  by  proofs  of  its  beauty  when  followed,  as 
of  the  deformity  which  refults  from  its  being  deferted,  the 
fecond  book  proceeds  to  a  more  practical  difcufiion  of  the 
fubject,  but  confines  itfelf  to  one  point  only,  the  difpofition  of 
the  ground-plan,  and,  that  very  material  bufinefs  immediately 
united  with  it,  the  proper  difpofition  and  formation  of  the 
paths  and  fences.  The  neceffity  of  attending  conflantly  to  the 
curvilinear  principle  is  firft  fhewn,  not  only  in  the  formation 
of  the  ground-plan,  with  refpect  to  its  external  boundary,  but 
in  its  internal  fwellings  and  fmkings,  where  all  abruptnefs  or 
angular  appearances  are  as  much  to  be  avoided  as  in  the  form 
of  the  outline  that  furrounds  the  whole. 

The  pathways  or  walks  are  next  confidered,  and  that  pecu- 
liar curve  recommended  for  their  imitation  which  is  fo  fre- 
quently 


GENERAL     POSTSCRIPT.  43 

quently  found  in  common  roads,  foot-paths,  &c.  and  which 
being  cafually  produced  appears  to  be  the  general  curve  of 
nature. 

The  reft  of  the  book  -is  employed  in  minutely  defcribing 
the  method  of  making  funk  fences,  and  other  neceiTary  divi- 
fions  of  the  pleafure-ground  or  lawn  from  the  adjacent  field 
or  park ;  a  part  of  the  art  which  is  of  moft  eflential  confe- 
quence,  and  which  is  frequently  very  difficult  both  to  deiign 
and  execute. 

The  drynefs  of  this  part  of  the  fubjecT:  led  me  to  enliven 
the  book  with  a  concluding  Epifode,  and  alfo  to  throw  into 
other  places  of  it  as  much  as  I  could  of  poetical  embellim- 
ment ;  in  one  inftance  perhaps  improperly,  becaufe  I  have 
found  it  has  generally  been  blamed.  It  is  the  apoftrophe 
which  I  have  made  to  the  Genius  or  Mufe  of  Painting,  when 
I  am  about  to  teach  the  heft  colour  for  concealing  upright 
fences.  It  has  been  faid,  "  Why  all  this  parade  about  daub- 
ing a  rail  ?"  Now,  though  I  believe  I  might  defend  myfelf  by 
the  practice  of  my  Mailers  in  Didadlic  Poetry,  who  frequently 
;by  fuch  apoftrophes  endeavour  to  beftow  confequence  on  little 

G  2  matters, 


44  GENERAL     POSTSCRIPT. 

matters,  to  which  they  think  it  necefTary  to  call  the  attention^ 
yet  I  rather  chufe  to  give  the  objection  its  full  force,  and  pro- 
mi  fe  to  foften  the  pafTage  in  the  next  edition ;  taking  leave, 
however,  here  to  affert  in  profe  that  it  is  highly  neceflary  to 
obferve  the  rule  in  queftion  j  becaufe  if  fuch  means  be  not 
taken  for  concealment,  fences  of  that  kind  create  much  de- 
formity in  the  general  fcene. 

III.  The  THIRD  BOOK  proceeds  to  add  natural  ornament  to 
that  ground-plan  which  the  fecond  book  had  afcertained,  in 
its  two  capital  branches,  Wood  and  Water. 

The  formation  of  the  outline  and  portion  of  the  latter 
might  indeed  have  been  treated  in  the  former  book  :  But  as 
Water,  though  the  greateft  ornament  of  any  rural  fcene,  is 
certainly  but  an  ornament,  inafmuch  as  the  fcene  may  exift 
without  it;  and  as  there  are  many  beautifully-adorned  Places 
where  this  additional  grace  cannot  be  produced,  I  thought 
proper  to  confider  it  only  as  an  adjunct.  Somebody  has  faid 
(perhaps  rather  quaintly,  yet  certainly  not  without  good 
meaning)  that  "  water  is  the  eye,  and  wood  the  eye- brow  of 
nature;"  and  if  fo,  there  is  furely  no  impropriety  in  treating 

the 


GENERAL    POSTSCRIPT.  45 

the  two  features  together.  Certain  it  is,  that,  when  united,, 
they  contribute  more  than  any  thing  elfe  to  what  may  be 
called  Scenical  Expreffion,  without  which  the  picturefque 
Beauty  we  treat  of  lofes  much  of  its  value*. 

With  refpecVto  the  judicious  arrangement  of  Wood,  con- 
fidered  feparately,  I  treat  it  under  two  diftinft  heads,  that  of 
planting  it  with  a  view  of  concealing  defects,  and  introducing 
beauty  in  their  place ;  and  for  the  purpofe  of  ornamenting 
the  opener  lawns.  On  the  former  of  thefe  I  am  more  diffufe, 
becaufe  it  is  a  fubjecl:  which  admits  of  precife  rules.  On  the 
latter,  as  it  is  the  peculiar  province  of  Tafte,  and  depends 
chiefly  on  the  eye  of  the  Planter,  who  mud  neceffarily  vary 
his  mode  of  planting  as  peculiar  fituations  vary,  more  could 
not  be  faid  with  propriety :  For,  where  the  only  thing  need- 
ful is  to  avoid  formality,  and  to  treat  Nature  (as  Mr.  Pope 
excellently  exprefTes  it) 

like  a  modeft  fair,. 

Not  over  drefs,  nor  leave  her  wholly  bare, 
explicit  rules  rather  tend  to  miflead  than  to  direct.     I  haver 
however,  from  ver.  209  to  ver.  250,  ventured  to  prefcribe  a 
few  material  precepts  which  are  incapable  of  being  milappiied ; 

G  3  and 


46  GENERAL     POSTSCRIPT. 

and  if  to  thefe  be  added,  what  I  have  faid  in  the  firfl  book 
concerning  the  falfe  tafte  of  planting  diftances,  I  am  in  hopes 
I  (hall  not  be  thought  to  have  treated  this  part  of  my  fubje<5t 
fuperficially. 


I  would  wim  my  reader  to  confider  that  the  Plan  of 
this  Poem  differs  very  materially  in  -one  refpecl:  from  that  of 
the  Georgics  of  Virgil  ;  and  when  I  fpeak  merely  of  Plan,  I 
may  hope,  without  appearing  arrogant,  to  bring  them  to  a 
comparifon.  His  four  books  treat  of  four  diftinct  fubjedls; 
Tillage,  Planting,  Breeding  of  Cattle,  and  Bees.  He  has  no 
introductory  book  which  treats  of  the  general  Art  of  Agricul- 
ture :  Whereas  this  Poem,  as  appears  from  the  analylis  here 
given,  employs  the  firft  book  entirely  on  that  general  fubjec% 
of  which  the  three  following  are  to  be  confidered  only  as  illu- 
-ilrations  and  amplifications  :  Where  therefore  that  book  had 
furficiently  explained  any  topic,  more  could  not  be  added  in 
any  fucceeding  one  without  tautology.  And  this,  I  hope, 
will  fufficiently  obviate  the  objection  which  has  been  made  to 
..this  part  -of  the  third  book* 


GENERAL     POSTSCRIPT.  47 

As  to  the  fecond  general  topic,  Water,  as  1  have  heard  no 
dbjedtions  made  to  what  I  have  there  aiTerted,  and  believe 
every  aiTertion  confonant  to  the  general  principles  of  the  art, 
I  fhall  here  add  nothing.  Yet  in  the  little  Epifode  at  the  end 
of  it,  I  have  been  frequently  queftioned  whom  I  meant  by 
LIGEAJ  and  it  has  been  thought  that  I  ought  not  to  have  run 
away  with  one  of  Virgil's  Sea-Nymphs*,  to  tranfport  her  into 
an  Englim  inland  fcene.  There  is  fome  weight  in  this  objec- 
tion ;  and  to  (hew  that  I  think  fo,  I  will  here  difcover  what 
I.  have  hitherto  kept  as  a  fort  of  fecret.  The  lines,  where 
this  Nymph  is  mentioned,  were  written  in- a.  very  retired 
grove  belonging  to  Mr.  Frederic  Montagu,  who.  has  long 
honoured  me  with  his  friendship,  where  a  little  clear  trout- 
ftream  (dignified  perhaps  too  much  by  the  name  of  a  River) 
gurgles  very  delicioufly.  The  name  of.  this  ftream  is  the 
LIN,  and  the  fpring  itfelf  rifes  but  a  little  way  from  his 
plantations  -fv  I-feem  to  find  myfelf  afked  here. pretty  ab- 
ruptly,. Why  then  did  you  not  call  your  Nymph  LINE  A  ?  I 

will 

*  Drymoquc,  Zanthoque,  Ligeaaue,  Phyllodoceq-ae.     GEOR/  iv.  ver.  336. 

•f  At  Papplewick,  in  Nottinghamftiire,  on  the  edge  of  the  Foreft  of  Sherwood.  The 
village  itfelf  has  not  been  witnout  poetical  notice  before,  Ben  Johnfon  having  taken 
fome  of  his  perfon<e  dramatis  from  it,  in  his  uafiniihed  Paftoral  Comedy,  called  ?fo~ 


$  GENERAL    POSTSCRIPT. 

•will  own  the  truth.  I  had  refolved,  when  I  firft  planned  my 
Poem,  to  bring  no  inftances  from  any  individual  fcene  :  For  I 

« 

thought  the  nature  of  its  compofition,  as  it  excluded  particu- 
lar fatire,  would  not,  with  more  propriety  admit  of  particular 
panegyric ;  and  therefore,  by  a  flight  alteration  in  the  name, 
and  by  fome  other  as  flight  deviations  from  the  fcenery,  I 
.cautioufly  mafked  the  Naiad  in  queftion. 

I  will  here  give  the  reader  another  inflance  of  fimilar  cau- 
tion :  Finding,  in  the  fame  book,  occafion  to  explode  the  too 
great  fondnefs  for  exotic  plants,  I  thought  that  the  moil 
poetical  way  of  doing  it  was  to  exhibit  an  inflance  fomewhat  in 
the  fame  manner  in  which  Virgil  introduces  his  old  Corycian 
Gardener:  But  to  prevent  all  poflible  application,  as  I  thought, 
I  laid  my  fcene  on  the  banks  of  the  remote  Swale,  where  I 
imagined  the  tafte  for  exotics  had  not  yet  reached,  or  at  leaft 
had  not  yet  been  carried  to  any  excefs ;  yet  I  have  been  fince 
told,  that  the  neighbourhood  immediately  pointed  out  a  cer- 
tain very  worthy  Gentleman  as  the  undoubted  obje<£l  of  my 
fatire,  whofe  improvements  I  had  never  feen,  nor  even  heard, 
that,  from  the  inclemency  of  the  climate,  his  plantations  had 
fuffered  in  the  way  that  I  have  defcribed.  I  have,  there- 
fore. 


GENERAL     POSTSCRIPT.  49 

fore,  only  to  defire  that  my  readers,  now  poflefled  of  one  of 
my  fecrets,  would  fubftitute  an  N  for  a  G  where  the  name 
LIGEA  occurs;  and  that  the  refpe&able  Gentleman,  now 
acquainted  with  the  other,  would  acquit  me  of  any  premedi- 
tated ridicule  on  his  fubje<ft. 

IV.  Factitious  or  artificial  ornaments,  in  contradiftindlion 
to  natural  ones  laft  treated,  form  the  general  fubject  of  the 
FOURTH  BOOK,  and  conclude  the  plan.  By  thefe  is  meant 
not  only  every  aid  which  the  art  borrows  from  architecture  $ 
but  thofe  fmaller  pieces  of  feparate  fcenery  appropriated  either 
to  ornament  or  ufe,  which  do  not  make  a  neceflary  part  of 
the  whole;  and  which,  if  admitted  into  it,  would  frequently 
occafion  a  littlenefs  ill-fuiting  with  that  unity  and  fimplicity 
which  mould  ever  be  principally  attended  to  in  an  extenfive 
pleafure-  ground. 

Though  this  fubject  was  in  itfelf  as  fufceptible  of  poetical 
embellishment  as  any  that  preceded  it,  and  much  more  fo 
than  thofe  contained  in  the  fecond  book  -,  yet  I  was  appre- 
henfive  that  defcriptive  poetry,  however  varied,  might  pall 

H  when 


5&  GENERAL    POSTSCRIPT. 

when  continued  through  fo  long  a  poem ;  and  therefore,  by 
interweaving  a  tale  with  the  general  theme,  I  have  given  the 
whole  a  narrative,  and  in  fome  places  a  dramatic  cart.  The 
idea  was  new,  and  I  found  the  execution  of  it  fomewhat 
difficult :  However,  if  I  have  fo  far  fucceeded  as  to  have  con- 
veyed, thro'  the  medium  of  an  interefling  ftory,  thofe  more 
important  principles  of  tafte  which  this  part  of  my  fubjecl:  re- 
quired, and  if  thofe  rules  only  are  omitted  which  readily  refult 
from  fuch  as  I  have  defcriptively  given;  if  the  judicious  place 
and  arrangement  of  thofe  artificial  forms,  which  give  the  chief 
embellimment  to  a  finimed  garden-fcene,  be  diftindly  noti- 
ced, I  am  not  without  hope  that  this  conclufion  will  be 
thought  (as  Sir  Henry  Wotton  faid  of  Milton's  juvenile  Poems 
at  the  end  of  a  mifcellany)  to  leave  the  reader  in  fome  fmall 
degree  con  la  bocca  dolce. 

With  refpecl:  to  the  criticifms,  which  may  be  made  on  this 
laft  book,  there  is  one  fo  likely  to  come  from  certain  readers, 
that  I  am  inclined  to  anticipate  it ;  and  taking  for  granted  that 
it  will  be  faid  to  breathe  too  much  of  the  fpirit  of  party,  to 
return  the  following  ready  anfwer :  The  word  Party,  when 

applied 


GENERAL     POSTSCRIPT.  5r 

applied  to  thofe  men,  who,  from  private  and  perfonal  motives, 
compofe  either  a  majority  or  minority  in  a  houfe  of  parliament, 
or  to  thofe  who  out  of  it,  on  fimilar  principles,  approve  or 
condemn  the  meafures  of  any  adminiftration,  is  certainly  in 
its  place  :  But  in  a  matter  of  fuch  magnitude  as  the  prefent 
American  War,  in  which  the  deareft  interefls  of  mankind  are 
concerned,  the  puny  term  has  little  or  no  meaning.  If,  how- 
ever, it  be  applied  to  me  on  this  occafion,  I  mall  take  it  with 
much  complacency,  confcious  that  no  fentiment  appears 
in  my  Poem  which  does  not  prove  its  author  to  be  of 
THE  PARTY  OF  HUMANITY. 

The  whole  of  the  Plan  being  now  explained,  I  might  here 
finim,  did  not  a  general  objection  remain  which  I  have  heard 
made  to  the  fpecies  of  Verification  in  which  I  chofe  to  com- 
pofe it.  I  mud,  therefore,  beg  the  reader's  patience  while  I 
inform  him  why  I  preferred  blank  verfe  to  rhyme  on  this  oc*- 
cafion. 

When  I  firfl  had  the  fubjecl:  in  contemplation,  I  found  it 
admitted  of  two  very  different  modes  of  compofition  :  One 

H  2  was 


52  GENERAL     POSTSCRIPT, 

was  that  of  the  regular  Didactic  Poem,  of  which  the  Georgic* 
of  Virgil  afford  fo  perfect  an  example;  the  other  that  of  ther 
preceptive  epiftolary  eflay,  the  model  of  which  Horace  has 
given  in  his  Epiftles  Ad  Augujlum  &  ad  Pifones.  I  balanced 
fometime  which  of  thefe  I  Ihould  adopt,  for  both  had  their 
peculiar  merit.  The  former  opened  a  more  ample  field  for 
picturefque  defcription  and  poetical  embellishment ;  the  latter 
was  more  calculated  to  convey  exact  precept  in  concife  phrafe*. 
The  one  furniflied  better  means  of  illuftrating  my  fubjecty 
and  the  other  of  defining  it >  the  former  admitted  thofe  orna- 
ments only  which  refulted  from  lively  imagery  and  figurative 
diction,  the  latter  feemed  rather  to  require  the  feafoning  of 
wit  and  fatire ;  this,  therefore,  appeared  bed  calculated  to 
expofe  falfe  tafte,  and  that  to  elucidate  the  true.  But  falfe 
tafte,  on  this  fubject,  had  been  fo  inimitably  ridiculed  by 
Mr.  Pope,  in  his  Epiftle  to  Lord  Burlington,  that  it  feemed 
to  preclude  all  other  authors  (at  leaft  it  precluded  me)  from 
touching  it  after  him ;  and  therefore,  as  he  had  left  much 

unfaid 

*  See  Mr.  Pope's  account  of  his  Jpfign  in  writing  the  EfTay  on  Man,  in  \vhich  the 
peculiar  merit  of  that  way,  in  which  he  fo  greatly  excelled,  is  moft  happily  explained. 
He  chofe,  as  he  fays,  "  Verfe,  and  even  Rhyme,  for  two  reafons  :  Verfe,  becaufe 
precepts,  fo  written,  ftrike  more  ftrongly,  and  are  retained  more  eafily :  Rhyme,  be- 
caufe  it  expreffcs  arguments  or  inflruftions  more  concifely  than  even  Profe  it(el£" 


*  GENERAL     POSTSCRIPT.  53 

unfaid  on  that  part  of  the  art  on  which  it  was  my  purpofb 
principally  to  enlarge,  I  thought  the  Didactic  method  not 
only  more  open  but  more  proper  for  my  attempt.  This  mat- 
ter once  determined,  I  did  not  hefitate  as  to  my  choice  between 
blank  verfe  and  rhyme  >  becaufe  it  clearly  appeared,,  that  num* 
bers  of  the  moft  varied  kind  were  moft  proper  to  illuftrate  a 
fubject  ivbofe  every  charm  fpr ings  from  variety,  and  which 
painting  Nature,  as  fcorning  control,  (hould  employ  a  verifi- 
cation for  that  end  as  unfettered  as  Nature  itfelf.  Art  at  the 
fame  time,  in  rural  improvements,  pervading  the  province  of 
Nature,  unfeen  ajwi  unfelt,  feemed  to  bear,  a  finking  analogy 
to  that  fpecies  of  verfe,  the  harmony  of  which  refults  from 
meafured  quantity  and  varied  cadence,  without  the  too  ftudied 
arrangement  of  final  fyllables,  or  regular  return  of  confonant 
founds.  I  waSy  notwithstanding,  well  aware,  that  by  choofing 
to  write  in  blank  verfe,  I  mould  not  court  popularity,  becaufe 
I  perceived  it  was  growing  much  out  of  vogue;  but  this 
reafon,  as  may  be  fuppofed,  did  not  weigH  much  with  a  writer, 
who  meant  to  combat  Famion  in  the  very  theme  he  intended 
to  write  upon ;  and  who  was  alfo  convinced  that  a  mode  of 
Englifh  verfification,  in  which  fo  many  good  poems,  witb 

H  3  Paradife 


54  GENERAL    POSTSCRIPT. 

Paradife  Loft  at  their  head,  have  been  written,  could  either 
not  long  continue  unfafhionable ;  or  if  it  did,  that  Fafhion 
had  fo  completely  deftroyed  Tafte,  it  would  not  be  worth  any 
writer's  while,  who  aimed  at  more  than  the  reputation  of  the 
day,  to  endeavour  to  amufe  the  public. 


N        I        S. 


ERRATUM. 

Ver.  665.  For  SIMPLICIY,  read  SIMPLICITY. 


CHARLES    ALPHONSE    DU    FRESNO Y's 


ART    of    E  A  IN  TIN  G 


Tranflated  into  ENGLISH  V  E  R  S  E, 


. 


THE 

ART    of   PAINTING 

O    F 

CHARLES    ALPHONSE    DU    FRESNOY, 

Tranflated  into  ENGLISH  VERSE 
B    Y 

W  I  L  L  I  A  M     M  A  S  ON,     M.  A. 

With    ANNOTATIONS 
B   Y 

Sir   JOSHUA    REYNOLDS,     Kht. 

Prefident  of  the  ROYAL  ACADEMY* 


Y        O        R        K: 

Printed  by  A,  WARD,  and  fold  by  J.  DODSLEV,  Pall-Mall ;  T.  CADELL,  in 
the  Strand;  R, FAULDER,  New Bond-ftreet,  London 3  and  J,  TODD,  York, 

M.DCC.LXXXIII. 


EPISTLE 


X    O 


Sir    JOSHUA    REYNOLDS. 


WHEN  DRYDEN,  worn  with  ficknefs,  bow'd 
with  years, 

Was  doom'd  (my  Friend  let  Pity  warm  thy  tears) 
The  galling  pang  of  penury  to  feel, 
For  ill-plac'd  Loyalty,   and  courtly  Zeal, 
To  fee  that  Laurel,    which  his  brows  o'erfpread, 
Tranfplanted  droop  on  SHADWELL'S  barren  head, 
The  Bard  opprefs'd,   yet  not  fubdu'd  by  Fate, 
For  very  bread  defcended  to  tranflate : 
And  He,    whofe  Fancy,   copious  as  his  Phrafe, 
Could  light  at  will  Expreffion's  brighter!:  blaze, 
On  FRESNOY'S  Lay  employ'd  his  fludious  hour; 
But  niggard  there  of  that  melodious  power, 
His  pen  in  hafte  the  hireling  taflc  to  clofe, 
Transform'd  the  ftudied  ftrain  to  carelefs  profe, 
Which,    fondly  lending  faith  to  French  pretence, 
Miftook  its  meaning,    or  obfcur'd  its  fenfe, 

a  3  Yet 


vi  EPISTLE,       &c. 

Yet  ftill  he  pleased,   for  DRYDEN  ftill  muft  pleafe, 
Whether  with  artlefs  elegance  and  eafe 
He  glides  in  Profe,    or  from  its  tinkling  chime, 
By  varied  paufes,  purifies  his  rhyme, 
And   mounts    on  MARO'S  plumes,    and  foars    his 
heights  fublime. 


This  artlefs  Elegance,    this  native  fire 
Provok'd  his  tuneful  Heir  *  to  ftrike  the  Lyre, 
Who,   proud  his  numbers  with  that  profe  to  join, 
Wove  an  illuftrious  wreath  for  Friendfhip's  fhrine, 

How  oft,   on  that  fair  flirine  when  Poets  bind 
The  flowers  of  Song,  does  partial  Paffion  blind 
Their  judgment's  eye  !  How  oft  does  Truth  difclaim 
The  deed,  and  fcorn  to  call  it  genuine  Fame  ! 
How  did  fhe  here,  when  JERVAS  was  the  theme, 
Waft  thro'  the  Ivory  Gate  the  Poet's  dream ! 
How  view,    indignant,   Error's  bafe  alloy 
The  fterling  luftre  of  his  Praife  deftroy, 
Which  now,  if  Praife  like  his  my  Mufe  could  coin, 
Current  thro'  Ages,    fhe  would  ftamp  for  Thine. 

Let  Friendfhip,   as  fhe  caus'd,    excufe  the  deed ; 
With  Thee,  and  fuch  as  Thee,  fhe  muft  fucceed. 

But 

*  Mr.  POPE,  in  his  Epiftle  to  JERTAS,  has  thefe  lines, 
Read  thefe  inftru&ive  leaves  in  which  confpire 
FRESNOY'S  clofe  art  with  DRYDEN'S  native  fire. 


EPISTLE,       &c.  vii 

But  what,    if  Fafhion  tempted  POPE  aftray  ? 
The  Witch  has  fpells,    and  JERVAS   knew  a  day 
When  mode-ftruck  Belles  and  Beaux  were  proud  to 

come 
And  buy  of  him  a  thoufand  years  of  bloom,  f 

Ev'n  then  I  deem  it  but  a  venial  crime : 
Perifti  alone  that  felfifh  fordid  rhyme, 
Which  flatters  lawlefs  Sway,    or  tinfel  Pride  ; 

Let  black  Oblivion  plunge  it  in  her  tide. 

* 

From  Fate  like  this  my  truth-fupported  lays, 
Ev'n  if  afpiring  to  thy  Pencil's  praife, 
Would  flow  fecure  ;   but  humbler  Aims  are  mine  ; 
Know,    when  to  thee  I  confecrate  the  line, 
'Tis  but  to  thank  thy  Genius  for  the  ray 
Which  pours  on  FRESNOY'S  rules  a  fuller  day : 
Thofe  candid  ftri&ures,  thofe  reflexions  new, 
Refin'd  by  Tafte,   yet  ftill  as  Nature  true, 
Which,  blended  here  with  his  inftrudtive  ftrains, 
Shall  bid  thy  Art  inherit  new  domains ; 
Give  her  in  Albion  as  in  Greece  to  rule, 
And  guide  (what  thou  haft  form'd)  a  Britifli  School. 


And, 


f  Alluding  to  another  couplet  in  the  fame  Epiftle. 
Beauty,  frail  Flower,  that  every  Seafon  fears, 
Blooms  in  thy  colours  for  a  tkwfand  ytart* 


viii         EPISTLE,       &c. 

•  And,   O,  if  ought  thy  Poet  can  pretend 
Beyond  his  fav'rite  wifh  to  call  thee  Friend,. 
Be  it  that  here  his  tuneful  toil  has  dreft 
The  Mufe  of  FRESNOY  in  a  modern  veft ; 
And,   with  what  fldll  his  Fancy  could  beftow. 
Taught  the  clofe  folds  to  take  an  eafier  flow  $ 
Be  it,   that  here  thy  partial  finite  approv'd 
The  Pains  he  lavifh'd  on  the  Art  he  lov'd, 

OCT.  10,  1782. 

W,  M  A  S  O  N. 


PREFACE 


P     R     E     F     A     C     E. 


H  E  Poem  of  M.  Du  FRESNOY,  when  con- 
JL  fidered  as  a  Treatife  on  Painting,  may  un- 
queftionably  claim  the  merit  of  giving  the  leading 
Principles  of  the  Art  with  more  precision,  concife- 
nefs,.  and  accuracy,.  than  any  work  of  the  kind  that 
has  either  preceded  or  followed  it;  yet  as  it  was 
published  about  the  middle  of  the  laft  century, 
many  of  the  precepts  it  contains  have  been  fo  fre- 
quently repeated  by  later  writers,  that  they  liave  loft 
the  air  of  novelty,.  and  will,  confequently,  now 
be  held  common  ;  fome  of  them  too  may,  perhaps, 
not  be  fo  generally  true  as  to  claim  the  authority  of 

abfolute  rules  :    Yet  the  reader  of  tafte  will  alwavs 

j 

be  pleafed  to  fee  a  Frenchman  holding  out  to  his 
countrymen  the  Study  of  Nature,  and  the  chaffe 
Models  of  Antiquity,,  when  (if  we  except  LE  SUEUR 
and  NICOLO  POUSSIN,  who  were  FRESNO  vY  contem- 
poraries) fo  few  Painters  of  that  nation  have  regarded 
either  of  thefe  architypes.  The  modern  Artift  alfo 
will  be  proud  to  emulate  that  Simplicity  of  ftyle, 
which  this  work  has  for  more  than  a  century  recom- 
mended, and  which,  having  only  very  lately,  got  the 
better  of  fluttering  drapery  and  theatrical  attitude,  is 
become  one  of  the  principal:  tefts  of  Pi&urefque 
excellence. 

b  Bu? 


x  PREFACE. 

But  if  the  Text  may  have  loft  fomewhat  of  its 
original  merit,  the  Notes  of  Mr.  Du  PILES,  which 
have  hitherto  accompanied  it,  have  loft  much  more. 
Indeed  it  may  be  doubted  whether  they  ever  had 
merit  in  any  conriderable  degree.  Certain  it  is  that 
they  contain  -fuch  a  parade  of  common-place  quo- 
tation, with  fo  fmall  a  degree  of  illuftrative  fcience, 
that  I  have  thought  proper  to  expel  them  from 
this  edition^  in  order  to  make  room  for  their  betters. 

As  to  the  poetical  powers  of  my  Author,  I  do  not 
fuppofe  that  thefe  alone  would  ever  have  given  him  a 
place  in  the  numerous  libraries  which  he  now  holds ; 
and  I  have,  therefore,  -often  wondered  that  M.  DE 
VOLTAIRE,  when  he  gave  an  account  of  the  authors 
who  appeared  in  the  age  of  Louis  XIV.  fhould  dif- 
mifs  FRESNOY,  with  faying,  in  his  decifive  manner, 
that  cc  his  Poem  has  fucceeded  with  fuch  perfons  as 
could  bear  to  read -Latin  Verfe,  not  of  the  Auguftan 
Age  *.  This  is  the  criticifm  of  a  mere  Poet. 
No  body,  I  fhould  fuppofe,  ever  read  FRESNOY 
to  admire,  or  even  criticife  his  verification,  but 

either 

*  Du  FRENOI  (CHARLES)  ne  a  Paris  1611,  peintre  &  poete.  Son  poeme 
de  la  peinture  a  reuffi  aupres  de  ceux  qui  peuvent  lire  d'autres  vers  latins  que 
ccux  du  fiecle  d'AuguHe.  Siedc  dc  Louis  X[V.  Tom.  I. 


PREFACE.  xi 

either  to  be  inftrudted  by  him  as  a  Painter,   or  im- 
proved as  a  Virtuofo, 

It  was  this  latter  motive  only,   I  confeis,   that  led 
me  to  attempt  the  following  translation  ;  which  was 
begun  in  very  early  youth,,  with  a  double  view  of 
implanting  in  my  own,  memory  the  principles  of  a 
favourite  art,    and  of  acquiring  a  habit  of  verifica- 
tion, for  which  purpofe  the  clofe  and  condenfed  ftile 
of  the  original  feemed  peculiarly  calculated,    efpe- 
cially  when  confidered  as  a  fort  of  fchool  exercife. 
However  the  tafk  proved,  fo  difficult,,  that  when  I 
had  gone   through  a  part  of  it  I  remitted    of  my 
diligence,   and  proceeded  at  fuch  feparate  intervals, 
that  I  had  pailed   many  pofterior  productions  thro* 
the  prefs  before  this  was  brought  to  any  conclusion  in 
manufcript ;   and,    after  it  was  fb,  it  lay  long  ne- 
glected,  and  would  certainly  have .  never  been  made 
public,   had  not  SIR  JOSHUA  REYNOLDS  requested  a 
fight  of  it,   and  made  an  obliging  offer   of  illuftra- 
ting  it  by  a  leries  of  his  own  notes*-     This  prompt- 
ed me  to  revife  it:  with  all  poffible  accuracy ;   and 
as   I  had   prefer ved   the  ftrictures   which   my   late 
excellent   friend  Mr.. GRAY   had,  made  many  years 
before   on  the  verfion,   as  it  then  flood,    I  attended 
to  each  of  them  in  their  order  with  that  deference 

b   2  which 


xii          PREFACE. 

which  every  criticifm  of  his  muft  demand.  Be- 
fides  this,  as  much  more  time  was  now  elapfed 
fmce  I  had  myfelf  perufed  the  copy,  my  own  eye 
was  become  more  open  to  its  defects.  I  found  the 
rule  which  my  Author  had  given  to  his  Painter 
full  as  ufeful  to  a  Writer, 

(Aft  ubi  confilium  deerit  fapientis  amici 
Id  tempus  dabit,  atque  mora  intermifla  labori.) 
And  I  may  fay,  with  truth,  that  having  become 
from  this  circumftance,  as  Impartial,  if  not  as  fafti- 
dious,  to  my  own  work,  as  any  -other  critic  could 
poffibly  have  been,  I  hardly  left  a  {ingle  line  in  it 
without  giving  it,  what  .1  thought,  an  .emendation-. 
It  is  not,  therefore,  as  a  juvenile  work  .that  I  now 
prefent  it  Jx>  the  public,  but  as  one  which  I  have 
improved  to  the  utmoft  of  my  mature  abilities,  in 
order  to  ma^e  it  more  worthy  of  its  Annotator. 

In  the  preceding  Epiftle  I  have  obviated,  I  hope, 
every  fufpicion  of  arrogance  in  attempting  this  work 
after  Mr.  DRYDEN.  The  {ingle  confideration  that 
his  Verfion  was  in  Profe  were  in  itfelf  fufficient ; 
becaufe,  as  Mr.  POPE  has  juftly  obferved,  Verfe  and 
even  Rhyme  is  the  beft  mode  of  conveying  precep- 
tive truths,  "  as  in  this  way  they  are  more  {hortly 
exprefled,  and  more  eafily  retained*."  Still  lefs  need 

I 

*  See  his  Advertifement  before  the  EfTay  on  Man. 


PREFACE.          xiii 

1  make  an  apology  for  undertaking  it  after  Mr. 
WILLS,  who,  in  the  year  1754,  publiflied  a  Tranf- 
lation  of  it  in  Metre  without  Rhyme  *. 

This  Gentleman,   a  Painter  by  profeffion,  aflum- 
ed  for  his  motto, 

Traftant  Fabrilia  Fabri ; 

but  however  adroit  he  might  be  in  handling  the  tools 
of  his  own  art,  candour  muft  own  that  the  tools 
of  a  Poet  and  a  Translator  were  beyond  his  manage- 
ment ;  attempting  alfo  a  tafk  abfolutely  impoffible, 
that  of  exprefling  the  fenfe  of  his  Author  in  an 
equal  number  of  lines,  he  produced  a  verfion  which 
(if  it  was  ever  read  through  by  any  perfon  except 
myfelf)  is  now  totally  forgotten.  Neverthelefs  I 
muft  do  him  the  juftice  to  own  that  he  understood 
the  original  text ;  that  he  detected  fome  errors  in 
Mr.  DRYDEN'S  Tranilation,  which  had  efcaped  Mr. 

b   3  JERVAS 

*  I  call  it  fo  rather  than  Blank  Verfe,  becaufe  it  was  devoid  of  all  harmony 
of  numbers.  The  beginning,  which  I  fhall  here  infert,  is  a  fufficient  proof 
of  the  truth  of  this  affertion. 

As  Painting,  Poefy,  fo  fimilar 
To  Poefy  be  Painting  ;   emulous 
Alike,  each  to  her  fifter  doth  refer, 
Alternate  change  the  office  and  the  name  ; 
Mute  verfe  is  this,  that  fpeaking  picture  call'd. 

From  this  little  fpecimen  the  reader  will  eafily  form  a  judgment  of  the 

whole. 


xiv         PREFACE. 

JERVAS  (affifted,  as  it  is  faid,  by  his  friend  Mr.  POPE) 
in  that  corrected  Edition  which  Mr.  GRAHAM  infcribed 
to  the  Earl  of  BURLINGTON  ;  and  that  I  have  myfelf 
fome times  profited  by  his  labours.  It  is  alfo  from 
his  Edition  that  I  reprint  the  following  Life  of  the 
Author,  which  was  drawn  up  from  Felibien  and 
other  Biographers  by  the  late  Dr.  BIRCH,  who,  with 
his  ufual  induftry,  has  collected,  all  they  have  faid 
on  FRESNOY'S  fubjedt. 


THE 


THE 

LIFE 

0    F 

Monf.    D  U    F  R  E  S  N  O  Y. 

CHARLES  ALPHONSE  DU  FRESNOY    was  born  at 
Paris  in  the  year  1611.     His  father,    who  was  an  emi- 
nent apothecary  in  that  city,   intending  him  for  the  profefliou 
of  phyfic,  gave  him  as  good  an  education  as  pomble.     During 
the  firft  year,   which  he  fpent  at  the  college,  he  made  a  very 
conliderable  progrefs  in  his   ftudies  :    but  as  foon   as  he  was 
raifed  to  the  higher  clafTes,  and  began  to  contract  a  tafte  of 
poetry,   his  genius  for  it  opened  itfelf,   and  he  carried  all  the 
prizes  in  it,  which  were  propofed  to  excite  the  emulation  of 
his  fellow-ftudents.     His  inclination  for    it   was  heightened 
by  exercife ;    and  his  earlieft  performances  mewed,,    that  he 
was  capable  of  becoming  one  of  the  greateft  poets  of  his  age, 
if  his  love   of  painting,  which  equally  pofleffed  him,  had  not 
divided  his  time  and  application.     At  laft  he  laid  afide  all 
thoughts  of  the  ftudy  of  phyfic,   and  declared  abfolutely  for 
that  of  painting,  notwithftanding   the  oppofition  of  his  pa- 
rents, who,    by  all  kinds   of  feverity,    endeavoured  to  divert 
him  from  purfuing  his  paffion  for  that  art,   the  profellion  of 
which  they  unjuflly  confidered  in  a  very  contemptible  light. 
But  the  ftrength  of  his  inclination  defeating  all  the  meafures 
taken  to  fupprefs  it,   he  took  the  firft  opportunity  of  cultiva- 
ting his  favourite  ftudy. 

He  was  nineteen  or  twenty  years  of  age  when  he  began  to 
learn  to  defign  under  Francis  Perier  -9   and  having  /pent  two 

years 


xvi  The  L  I  F  E  of  M.  D  U  F  R  E  S  N  O  Y. 

years  in  the  fchool  of  that  painter,  and  of  Simon  Voiiet,  he 
thought  proper  to  take  a  journey  into  Italy,  where  he  arrived 
in  the  end  of  1633,  or  the  beginning  of  1634. 

.As  he  had,  during  his  ftudiea,   applied  himfelf  very  much 
to  that  of  geometry,   he  began,    upon  his  coming  to  Rome, 
to  paint  landfkips,  buildings,  andantient  ruins.     But,  for  the 
firft  two  years  of  his  refidence  in  that  city,  he  had  the  utmoft 
difficulty  to  fupport  himfelf,    being  abandoned  by  his  parents, 
who  relented  his  having  rejected  their  advice  in  the  choice  of 
his  profeffion  -,    and  the  little  flock  of  money,,  which  he  had 
provided  before  he  left  France,   proving  fcarce  fufficient  for 
the  expences  of  his  journey  to  Italy.     Being  destitute,  there- 
fore, of  friends  and  acquaintance  at  Rome,,  he  was  reduced  to 
fuch  diilrefs,   that  his  chief  fubfiftence  for  the  greateft  part  of 
that  time  was  bread  and  a  fmall  quantity  of  cheefe.     But  he 
diverted  the  fenfe  of  his  uneafy  circumftances   by  an   intenfe 
and  indefatigable  application  to  painting,   till   the  arrival   of 
the  celebrated  Peter  Mignard,   who  had  been  the  companion 
of  his  ftudies  under  Voiiet,    fet   him    more    at    eafe.     They, 
immediately  engaged  in.  the  ftriaeft  friendship,    living  toge- 
ther in  the  fame  houfe,  and  being  commonly-known  at  Rome 
by   the  name  of  the  Infeparabks.     They   were  employed   by 
the  Cardinal  of  Lyons  in-  copying  all  the  beft  pieces  in   the 
Farnefe  Palace.     But  their  principal  ftudy  was  the  works  of 
Raphael  and  other  great  matters,,  and  the  antiques ;    and  they 
were  contfant  in  their  attendance  every  evening  at  the  academy 
in  defigning  after  models,     Mignard  had  fuperior  talents  in 
practice;   but  Du  Frefnoy  was. a  greater  matter  of  the  rules, 
hittory,  and  theory  of  his  profefiion..    They  communicated 
to    each    other    their   remarks    and   ientiments,    Du  rrefnoy 
furnifhing  his  friend  with  noble  and  excellent  ideas,  and  the 

latter 


The  L  I  F  E  of  M.    D  U  F  R  E  S  N  O  Y.         xvii 

latter  inftructing  the  former  to  paint  with  greater  expedition 
and  eafe. 


Poetry  fhared  with  Painting  the  time  and  thoughts  of  Du 
FRESNOY,  who,  as  he  penetrated  into  the  fecrets  of  the  latter 
art,  wrote  down  his  obfervations ;  and  having  at  laft  acquired 
a  full  knowledge  of  the  fubject,  formed  a  delign  of  writing  a 
Poem  upon  it,  which  he  did  not  finim  till  many  years  after, 
when  he  had  confulted  the  beft  writers,  and  examined  with 
the  utmofl  care  the  mod  admired  pictures  in  Italy.  **'w»i' 

While  he  refided  there  he  painted  feveral  pictures,  particu- 
larly the  Ruins  of  the  Campo  Vaccino,  with  the  city  of  Rome 
in  the  figure  of  a  woman ;  a  young  woman  of  Athens  going 
to  fee  the  monument  of  a  lover;  ^Eneas  carrying  his  father  to 
his  tomb ;  Mars  finding  Lavinia  fleeping  on  the  banks  of  the 
Tyber,  defcending  from  his  chariot,  and  lifting  up  the  veil 
which  covered  her,  which  is  one  of  his  beft  pieces  ;  the  birth 
of  Venus,  and  that  of  Cupid.  He  had  a  peculiar  efteem  for 
the  works  of  Titian,  feveral  of  which  he  copied,  imitating 
that  excellent  Painter  in  his  colouring,  as  he  did  Carrache  in 
his  defign. 

About  the  year  1653  he  went  with  Mignard  to  Venice*, 
and  travelled  throughout  Lombardy;  and  during  his  ftay  in 
that  city  painted  a  Venus  for  Signer  Mark  Paruta,  a  noble 
Venetian,  and  a  Madonna,  a  half  length.  Thefe  pictures 

c  ihewed 

*  This  is  the  account  of  Monf.  Felibien,  Entretlens  fur  hs  vies  et  fur  let 
ouvrages  des  plus  excellent  pehitres,  torn.  II.  edit.  Land.  1705,  p.  333-  But  the 
late  author  of  Mrege  de  la  vie  des  plus  fameux  peintres,  part  n.  p.  284,  edit. 
Par.  1745,  in  4to,  fays,  that  Frefnoy  went  to  Venice  without  Mignard ;  and 
that  the  latter,  being  importuned  by  the  letters  of  the  former,  made  a  vifit  t« 
4*im  in  that  city. 


xviii        The  L  I  F  E  of  M.  D.U  F  R  E  S  N  O  Y. 

fhewed  that  he  had  not  fludied  thole  of  Titian  without 
fuccefs.  Here  the  two  friends  feparated,  Mignard  returning 
to  Rome,  and  Du  Frefnoy  to  France.  He  had  read  his 
Poem  to  the  beft  Painters  in  all  places  through  which  he 
palled,  and  particularly  to  Albano  and  Guercino,  then  at  Bo- 
logna ;  and  he  confulted  feveral  men  famous  for  their  /kill 
in  polite  literature. 

He  arrived  at  Paris  in  1656,  where  he  lodged  with  Monf; 
Potel,  Greffier  of  the  council,  in  the  ftreet  Beautreillis,  where 
he  painted  a  fmall  room  -,  afterwards  a  picture  for  the  altar  of 
the  Church  of  St.  Margaret  in  the  fuburb  St.  Antoine. 
Monf.  Bordier,  Intendant  of  the  finances,  who  was  then 
finishing  his  houfe  of  Rinci,  now  Livry,  having  feen  this 
picture,  was  fo  highly  pleafed  with  it,  that  he  took  Du  Fref- 
noy to  that  houfe,.  which  is  but  two  leagues  from  Paris,  to 
paint  the  Salon.  In  the  ceiling  was  reprefented  the  burning 
of  Troy;  Venus  is  {landing  by  Paris,  who  makes  her  remark 
how  the  fire  confumes  that  great  city;  in  the  front  is  the 
God  of  the  river^  which  runs  by  it^  and  other  deities :  This 
is  one  of  his  beft  performances,  both  for  dilpofition  and 
colouring.  He  afterwards  painted  a  coniiderable  number  of 
pictures  for  the  cabinets  of  the  curious,  particularly  an  altar- 
piece  for  the  Church  of  Lagni,  reprefenting  the  affumption 
of  the  virgin  and  the  twelve  apoftles,  all  as  large  as  life.  At 
the  Hotel  d'Erval  (now  d'Armenonville)  he  painted  feveral 
pictures,  and  among  them  a  ceiling  of  a  room  with  four 
beautiful  landfkips,  the  figures  of  which  were  by  Mignard. 
As  he  underftood  Architecture  very  well,  he  drew  for  Monf. 
de  Vilargele  all  the  deiigns  of  a  houfe,  which  that  Gentleman 
built  four  leagues  from  Avignon ;  as  likewise  thofe  for  the  Hotel 
de  Lyonne,  and  for  that  of  the  Grand  Prior  de  bouvre.  The 

higli 


The   L  I  F  E  of  M.  D  U   F  R  E  S  N  O  Y.         xix 

high  altar  of  the  Filles-Dieu,  in  the  flreet  St.  Denis,  was  alfo 
deligned  by  him. 

Tho'  he  had  finimed  his  Poem  before  he  had  left  Italy,  and 
communicated  it,  as  has  been  already  mentioned,  to  the  bed 
judges  of  that  country ;  yet,  after  his  return  to  France,  he 
continued  frill  to  revife  it,  with  a  view  to  treat  more  at  length 
of  fome  things,  which  did  not  feem  to  him  fufficiently  ex- 
plained. This  employment  took  up  no  fmall  part  of  his  time, 
and  was  the  reafon  of  his  not  having  finiihed  Ib  many  pictures 
as  he  might  otherwife  have  done.  And  tho'  he  was  delirous 
to  fee  his  work  in  print,  he  -thought  it  improper  to  publim  it 
without  a  French  tranflation,  which  he  deferred  undertaking 
from  time  to  time,  out  of  diffidence  of  his  own  fkill  in  his 
native  language,  which  he  had  in  fome  meafure  loft  by  his 
long  refidence  in  Italy.  Monf.  de  Piles  was  therefore  at  laft 
induced,  at  his  defire,  and  by  the  merit  of  the  Poem,  to  tranf- 
late  it  into  French,  his  verfion  being  revifed  by  Du  Frefnoy 
himfelf ;  and  the  latter  had  begun  a  commentary  upon  it, 
when  he  was  feized  with  a  palfy,  and  after  languishing  four  or 
five  months  under  it,  died  at  the  houfe  of  one  of  his  brothers 
at  Villiers-le-bel,  four  leagues  from  Paris,  in  1665,  at  the  age 
of  fifty- four,  and  was  interred  in  the  parifh  Church  there. 
He  had  quitted  his  lodgings  at  Monf.  Potel's  upon  Mignard's 
return  to  Paris  in  1658,  and  the  two  friends  lived  together 
from  that  time  till  the  death  of  Du  Frefnoy. 

His  Poem  was  not  publifhed  till  three  years  after  his  death, 
when  it  was  printed  at  Paris  in  I2tno.  with  the  French  ver- 
iion  and  remarks  of  Monf.  de  Piles,  and  has  been  juftly  ad- 
mired for  its  elegance  and  perfpicuity. 

THE 


T    H    E 


ART  of  PAINTING 


WITH    THE 


Original  Text  fubjoinecL 


THE  ART  OF  PAINTING. 

TRUE  Poetry  the  Painter's  power  difplays ; 
True  Painting  emulates  the  Poet's  lays ; 
The  rival  Sifters,  fond  of  equal  fame,, 
Alternate  change  their  office  and  their  name  ;, 
Bid  filent  Poetry  the  canvafs  warm,  5 

The  tuneful  page  with  fpeaking  Pidure  charm. 

What  to  the  ear  fublimer  rapture  brings, 
That  ftrain  alone  the  genuine  Poet  fings ; 


D  E     A  R  T  E     G  R  A  P  H  I  C  A. 

UT  Pi&ura  Poefis  erit ;  fimilifque  Poefi 
Sit  Pidura;    reiert  par  aemula  qu^que  fororem,, 
Alternantque  vices  &  nomina^   muta  Poefis 
Dicitur  haec,  Pidura- loquens  folet  ilia  vocari. 

Quod  fuit  auditu  gratum  cecinere  Poetse; 

A 


C    2    ] 

That  form  alone  where  glows  peculiar  grace, 

-         ^f_^ 

The  genuine  Painter  condefcends  to  trace  :  i  o 

No  fordid  theme  will  Verfe  or  Paint  admit, 
Unworthy  colours  if  unworthy  wit. 

From  you,  bleft  Pair  !   Religion  deigns  tp  claim 
Her  facred  honours  \  at  her  awful  name 
High  o'er  the  ftars  you  take  your  foaring  flight,        15 
And  rove  the  regions  of  fupernal  light, 

V 

Attend  to  lays  that  flow  from  tongues  divine, 
Undazzled  gaze  where  charms  feraphic  fliinej 
Trace  beauty's  beam  to  its  eternal  Ipring, 
\>     And  pure  to  man  the  fire  coeleftial  bring.  20 


Quod  pulchrum  afpeftu  Ti&ores  pingere  curant: 

Quseque  Poetarum  numeris  indigna  fuere, 

Non  eadem  Pi&orum  operam  iludiumq;  merentur  : 

Ambx  quippe  facros  ad  religionis  honores 

Sydereos  fuperant  ignes,  aulamque  tonantis  10 

IngrefTa?,  Divum  afpedu,  alloquioque  fruuntur.; 
Oraque  magna  DeCm,   &  dida  obfervata  reportant, 
Coeleftemque  fuorum  operum  mortalibtis  ignem. 


C     3     ] 
Then  round  this  globe  on  joint  purfuit  ye  ftray, 

Time's  ample  annals  ftudioufly  furvey  ; 
And  from  the  eddies  of  Oblivion's  flream, 
Propitious  match  each  memorable  theme. 

Thus  to  each  form,  in  heav'n,  and  earth,  andfea,  2  % 
That  wins  with  grace,  or  awes  with  dignity, 
To  each  exalted  deed,   which  dares  to  claim 
The  glorious  meed  of  an  immortal  fame, 
That  meed  ye  grant.     Hence,  to  remoteft  age, 
The  Hero's  foul  darts  from  the  Poets  page  ;        30 
Hence,  from  the  canvafs,  ftill,   with  wonted  ftate, 
He  lives,  he  breaths,  he  braves  the  frown  of  Fate. 

Inde  per  hunc  Orbem  ftudiis  coeuntibus  errant* 
Carpentes  quas  digna  fui,  revolutaque  iuftrant  i$ 

Tempora,  quaerendis  confortibus  argumentis. 

Denique  quascunq;  in  coelo,  terraque,  marique 
Longius  in  tempus  durare,  ut  pulchra,  merentur, 
Nobilitate  fua,  claroque  infignia  cafu, 

Dives  &  ampla  manet  Pidtores  atque  Poetas  23 

Materies  j  inde  alta  fonant  per  fscula  mundo 
Nomina,  magnanimis  Heroibus  inde  fuperftes 
Gloria,  perpetuoque  operum  miracula  reflant : 

A    2 


C     4     ] 
Such  powers,  fuch  praifes,  heav'n-born  Pair,  belong 

To  magic  colouring,  and  creative  fong. 

But  here  I  paufe,  nor  afk  Pieria's  train,  35. 

Nor  Phoebus  felf  to  elevate  the  ftrain  ; 
Vain  is  the  flow'ry  verfe,  when  reafoning  fage,. 
And  fober  precept  fill  the  ftudied  page ; 
Enough  if  there  the  fluent  numbers  pleafe, 
With  native  clearnefs,  and  inftruftive  eafe.          40 

Nor  fhall  my  rules  the  Artift's  hand  confine, 
Whom  Pradlice  gives  to  ftrike  the  free  defign  ^ 
Or  banifh  Fancy  from  her  fairy  plains,. 
Or  fetter  Genius  in  dida&ic  chains  L 


Tantus  ineft  divis  honor  artibus  atque  poteflas. 

Non  mihi  Pieridum  chorus  hie,  nee  Apollo  vocandus,  2C 
Majus  ut  eloquium  numeris,  aut  gratia  fandi 
Dogmaticis  illuftret  opus  rationibus  horrens : 
Cum  nitida  tantum  &  facili  digefta  loquela, 
Ornari  prscepta  negent,  contenta  doceri. 

Nee  mihi  mens  animufve  fuit  conflringere  nodes  30 

Artificum  manibus,  quos  tantum  dirigit  ufus; 
Indolis  ut  vigor  inde  potens  obftrictus  hebefcat, 
Normarum  numero  immani,  Geniumq;  moretur  i 


C     5     ] 
No,   'tis  their  liberal  purpofe  to  convey  45 

That  fcientific  {kill  which  wins  its  way 
On  docile  Nature,  and  tranfmits  to  youth, 
Talents  to  reach,  and  tafte  to  relim  truth  ; 
While  inborn  Genius  from  their  aid  receives 
Each  fupplemental  Art  that  Practice  gives.          50 

'Tis  Painting's  fir  ft  chief  bufinefs  to  explore,          0/ ;he 

Beautiful. 

What  lovelier  forms  in  Nature's  boundlefs  ftore, 

J  Y  (f\  i  «v*T    fcrv  r 

Are  beft  to  Art  and  antient  Tafte  allied', 

For  antient  Tafte  thofe  forms  has  beft  applied. 

'Till  this  be  learn'd,  how  all  things  difagree;  5.5 
How  all  one  wretched,   blind  barbarity  ! 


Sed  rerutn  ut  pollens  ars  cognitione,  gradatlm 

Naturae  fefe  iniinuet,  verique  capacem  -35 

Tranfeat  in  Genium;  Geniufq;  ufu  induat  artem. 

Praecipua  imprimis  artifque  potiffima  pars  eft,  .   De  pjjchro^ 

NoiTe  quid  in  rebus  natura  crearit  ad  artem 
Pulchrius,  idque  modum  juxta,  mentemque  vetuftam  : 

Qiaa  fine  barbai  ies  csca  &  temeraria  pulchrum  40 

Negligit,  infultans  ignota?  audacior  arti, 

A  3 


C     6     ] 

The  fool  to  native  ignorance  confin'd, 
No  beauty  beaming  on  his  clouded  mind  ; 
Untaught  to  relim,  yet  too  proud  to  learn, 
He  fcorns  the  grace  his  dulnefs  can't  difcern.      60 
Hence  Reafon  to  Caprice  refigns  the  ftage, 
And  hence  that  maxim  of  the  antient  Sage, 
"  Of  all  vain  fools  with  coxcomb  talents  curft, 
cc  Bad  Painters  and  bad  Poets  are  the  worft." 
When  firft  the  orient  rays  of  beauty  move 
Theconfcious  foul,  they  light  the  lamp  of  love,  65 
Love  wakes  t hofe  war mdefires  that  prompt  our  chace, 
To  follow  and  to  fix  each  flying  grace : 
But  earth-born  graces  fparingly  impart 
The  fymmetry  fupreme  of  perfect  art ; 


Ut  curare  nequit,  quae  non  modo  noverit  efie  ; 
Illud  apud  veteres  fuit  unde  notabile  didlum, 
"  Nil  Pidlore  malo  fecurius  atque  Poet^." 

Cognita  amas,  &  amata  cupis,  fequerifq;  cupita;  45 

PafTibus  aflequeris  tandem  quac  fervidus  urges  : 
Ilia  tamen  quae  pulchra  decent;  non  omnia  cafus 
Quahacumque  dabunt,  etiamve  fimillima  veris  : 


r  7  j 

For  tho'  our  cafual  glance  may  fometimes  meet  70 
With  charms  thatfcrike  the  foul,  and  feem  compleat. 

Yet  if  thofe  charms  too  clofely  we  define, 

i 

Content  to  copy  nature  line  for  line, 
Our  end  is  loft.     Not  fuch  the  Matter's  care, 
Curious  he  culls  the  perfect  from  the  fair  ;          75 
Judge  of  his  art,  thro'  beauty's  realm  he  flies,, 
Selects,  combines,  improves,  diverfifies ; 
With  nimble  ftep  purfues  the  fleeting  throng, 
And  clafps  each  Venus  as  fhe  glides  along. 

Yet  fome  there  are  who  indifcreetly  ftray,       80  Of  Theory 

and  Practice. 

Where  purblind  Practice  only  points  the  way, 
Who  ev'ry  theoretic  truth  difdain, 
And  blunder  on  mechanically  vain* 

Nam  quamcumque  modo  fervili  hand  fufficit  ipfarn 
Naturam  exprimere  ad  vivum  ;  fed  ut  arbiter  artis,  50 

Seliget  ex  ilia  tanturo  pulcherrima  Pidor. 
Quodque  minus  pulchrum,  aut  mendofum,  corriget  ipfe 
Marte  luo,  formae  Veneres  captando  fugaces. 

Utque  manus  grandi  nil  nomine  pra&ica  dignum  D     "•  , 

.  ff  .  ,    r    .  t 

Ailequitur,  primum  arcanas  quam  dehcit  artis  55 

Lumen,  &  in  praeceps  abitUFa  ut  caeca  vagaturj 


v  .c.8  3 

Some  too  there  are  within  whofe  languid  breafts, 
A  lifelefs  heap  of  embryo  knowledge  refts,  8  5 

When  nor  the  pencil  feels  their  drowzy  art, 
Nor  the  fkill'd  hand  explains  the  meaning  heart. 
In  chains  of  Sloth  fuch  talents  droop  confin'd  : 
'Twas  not  by  words  Apelles  charm'd  mankind. 

Hear  then  theMufe;  tho'  perfedl  beauty  towers  90 
Above  the  reach  of  her  defcriptive  powers, 
Yet  will"  fhe  ftrive  fome  leading  rules  to  draw 
From  fovereign  Nature's  univerfal  law  ; 
Stretch  her  wide  view  o'er  antient  Art's  domain, 
Again  eftablim  Reafon's  legal  reign,  95 


Sic  nihil  ars  opera  manuum  privata  fupremum 
Exequitur,  fed  languet  iners  uti  vinda  lacertos  •> 
Difpofitumque  typum  Don  lingua  pinxit  Apelles. 
Ergo  licet  tota  normam  haud  poffimus  in  artc 
Ponere  (cum  nequeant  quae  funt  pulcherrima  dici) 
Niiimur  haec  paucis,  fcrutati  fumma  magiftras 
Dogmata  Natura?,  artifque  exemplaria  prima 
Altius  intuiti ;  Tic  mens  habilifque  facultas 


[    9    ] 

Genius  again  con-eft  with  Science  fage, 
And  curb  luxuriant  Fancy's  headlong  rage. 
"  Right  ever  reigns  its  ftated  bounds  between, 
"  And  Tafte,  like  Morals,  loves  the  golden  mean. 

Some  lofty  theme  let  judgment  firft  fupply,  ico      m 

of  the  sub- 

Supremely  fraught  with  grace  and  majefty  ; 
For  fancy  copious,   free  to  ev'ry  charm 
That  lines  can  circumfcribe  or  colours  warm, 
Still  happier  if  that  artful  theme  difpenfe 
A  poignant  moral  and  inftru&ive  fenfe.  105        EWD 

Then  let  the  virgin  canvas  fmooth  expand,  invention  the 

firft  Part  of 

To  claim  the  {ketch  and  tempt  the  ArtiftVhand  :  Painting- 

Indolis  excolitur,  Geniumque  Scientia  complet;  65 

Luxurianfque  in  monftra  furor  compefcitur  Arte. 
"  Eft  modus  in  rebus,  funt  certi  deniquejines, 
*'  £>uos  ultra  citraque  nequit  conjijlere  reSlum" 

His  pofitis,  erit  optandum  thema  nobile,  pulchrum,  ur. 

De 

Qiiodque  venuftatum,  circa  formam  atque  colorem,          70  to- 
S,ponte  capax,  amplam  emerits  mox  praebeat  Arti 
Materiam,  retegens  aliquid  falis  &  documenti. 
Tandem  opus  aggredior:  primoq:  occurrit  in  albo 

Piaorse  Pars. 

Pifponenda  typi,  concepta  potente  Minerva, 

B 


[       10      } 

Then  bold  INVENTION  all  thy  powers  diffuler 
Of  all  thy  fitters  thon  the  nobleft  Mufe. 
Thee  ev'ry  Art,  thee  ev'ry  Grace  infpires,         i  IQ: 
Thee  Phoebus  fills  with  all  his  brighteft  fires. 
Chufe  fuch  judicious  force  of  fhade  and  light 


n,  or 

Oeconomy   cf 

the  whok.     As  fujts  tjie  tjiem€)   an(j  fatisfies  tne  fight  ; 

Weigh  part  with  part,   and  with  prophetic  eye, 
The  future  power  of  all  thy  tints  defcry;         ' 
And  thofe,  thofe  only  on  the  canvas  place, 
Whofe  hues  are  focial,  whofe  effecl  is  grace. 

The  Jubjeft       Vivid  and  faithful  to  the  hiftoric  page, 

to  be  treated 

faithfully.     Exprefs  the  cuftorns,  manners,  forms,  and  age  ; 


Machina,  qux  nofrris  INVENTIO  dicitur  oris. 

Ilia  quidem  prius  ingenuis  inftrudla  fororum 
Artibus  Aonidum,  &  Phoebi  fublimior 


iv.  Ouasrendafque  inter  pofituras,  luminis,  umbrae, 

Difpofuio,five 

icoQcmia"5   Atque  futurorum  jam  praefentire  coloram 

Par  erit  har'moniam,.  captando  ab  utrifque  veftuftum.       80 
v.  Sit  thematis  genuina  ac  viva  expreflio,  juxta 

Fidelitas  Ar- 

Textum  antiquorum,  propriis  cum  tempore  formis, 


C   «   1 

Nor  paint  confpicuous  on  the  foremoft  plain     120 
Whate'er  is  falfe,  impertinent,  or  vain  ;  vi. 

Every  foreign 

But  like  the  Tragic  Mufe,   thy  luftre  throw, 
Where  the  chief  a&ion  claims  its  warmcft  glow. 

This  rare,  this  arduous  tafk  no  rules  can  teach, 
No  fkill'd  preceptor  point,  no  practice  reach  ;  125 
'Tis  Tafte,  'tis  Genius,  'tis  the  heav'nly  ray 
Prometheus  ravifh'd  from  the  car  of  day. 

In  Egypt  firft  the  infant  Art  appear'd, 
Rude  and  unform'd;  but  when  to  Greece  fhe  fteer'd 


Nee  quod  inane,  nihil  facit  ad  rem,  five  videtur  inanen-j'icle*- 

Improprium,  minimeque  urgens,  potiora  tenebit 
-Ornamenta  operisj  Tragicjc  fed  lege  fororis,  85 

Summa  ubi  res  agitur,  vis  fumma  requiritur  Artis. 

Ifla  labore  gravi,  ftudio.,  monitifque  magiftri 
Ardua  pars  nequit  addifci :  rariffima  namque, 
Ni  prius  asthereo  rapuit  quod  ab  axe  Prometheus 
Sit  jubar  infufum  menti  cum  flamine  vita?.  <jo 

Mortal!  haud  cuivis  divina  haec  munera  dantur ; 
uti  Daedal  earn  licet  omnibus  'ire  Corintbum* 
fj  2, 


• 


Her  profperous  courfe,  fair  Fancy  met  the  Maid ;  1 3,0 
Wit,  Reafon,  Judgment,  lent  their  powerful  aid;. 
Till  all  compleat  the  gradual  wonder  fhone, 
And  vanquifh'd  Nature  own'd  herfelf  outdone. 

'Twas  there  the  Goddefs  fixt  her  bleft  abodes, 
There  reign'd  in  Corinth,  Athens,  Sicyon,  Rhodes. 
Her  various  vot'ries  various  talents  crown' d,.. 
Yet  each  alike  her  infpiration  own'd  : 
Witnsfs  thofe  marble  miracles  of  grace, 
Thofe  tefts  of  iymmetry  where  ftill  we  trace 
All  Art's  perfection  :   With  reluctant  gaze         140 
To  thefe  the  Genius  of  jfucceeding  days 
Looks  dazzled  up,  and,  as  their  glories  fpread, 
Hides  in  his  mantle  his  diminifh'd  head. 

./Egypto  informis  quondam  pidlura  reperta, 
Graecorum  fludiis,  &  mentis  acumine  crevit : 
Egregiis  tandem  illuftrata  &  adulta  magiftris,  9  j 

Naturam  vifa  eft  miro  fuperare  labore. 

Quos  inter,  Graphidos  Gymnafia  prima  fuere 
Portus  Athenarum,  Sicyon,  Rhodes,  atque  Corinthus, 
Difparia  inter  fe  modicum  ratione  laboris ; 
Ut  patet  ex  veterum  Statuis,  'foraiae  atque  decoris  100 


[    13    1 
Learn  then  from  Greece,  ye  Youths,  Proportion's 

1  Defign  or  Po- 

laW,  fition  the  fe- 

cond  Patt  of 

Inform'd  by  her,  each  juft  POSITION  draw;  ^ 


Skilful  to  range  each  large  unequal  part, 
With  varied  motion  and  con  trailed  art  ; 
Full  in  the  front  the  nobler  limbs  to  place, 
And  poife  each  figure  on  its  central  bafe. 

But  chief  from  her  that  flowing  outline  take,  1  50 
Which  floats,  in  wavy  windings,  like  the  fnake, 
Or  lambent  flame;  which,  ample,  broad,  and  long,, 
Reliev'd  not  fwell'd,  at  once  both  light  and  ftrong^ 
Glides  thro'  the  graceful  whole.     Her  art  divine 
Cuts  not,  in  parts  minute,  the  tame  defign,      155 

Archetypis  ;  queis  pofterior  nil  protulit  astas 
Condignum,  &  non  inferius  longe,  arte  modoque. 

Horum  igitur  vera  ad  normam  pofitura  legetur  :  VII 

Graphis  feu 

Grandia,  inaequalis,  formofaque  partibus  amplis  Pofitura  ft- 

cunda  Pifturae 

Anteriora  dabit  membra,  in  contraria  mota 
Diverfo  variata,.  fuo  librataque  centre  ^ 

Membrorumque  iinus  ignis  flammantis  ad  inflar> 
Serpenti  undantes  flexu  -,  fed  Ia3via,  plana, 
Magnaque  figna,  quafi  fine  tubere  fubdita  ta<5tur 

B  3 


But  by  a  few  bold  ftrokes,  diftinft  and  free, 

Calls  forth  the  charms  of  perfect  fymmetry. 

True  to  anatomy,  more  true  to  grace, 

She  bids  each  mufcle  know  its  native  place  ; 

Bids  fmall  from  great  in  juft  gradation  rife,       j6o 

And,  at  one  vifual  point,  approach  the  eyes. 

Yet  deem  not,  Youths,  that  perfpedtive  can  give 
Thofe  charms  compleat  by  which  your  works  (hall 

live ; 

What  tho'  her  rules  may  to  your  hand  impart 
A  quick  mechanic  fubftitute  for  art ;  j  65 

Yet  formal,   geometric  fhapes  (he  draws  ; 
Hence  the  true  Genius  fcorns  her  rigid  laws, 

Ex  longo  dedu&a  fluant,  non  fedta  minutim.  no 

Infertifque  toris  fint  nota  ligamina,  juxta 
Compagem  anatomes,  &  membrificatio  Grasco 
Deformata  modo,  paucifque  expreffa  lacertis, 
ijualis  apud  veteres;  totoque  Eurythmia  partes 
Componat;  genitumque  fuo  generante  fequenti  pit 

Sit  minus,  &  pundio  videantur  cundla  fub  uno. 

Regula  certa  licet  nequeat  profped:ica  did, 
Aut  complementum  graphidos;  fed  in  arte  juvamen, 
Et  modus  accelerans  operandi :  at  corpora  falfo 


Figures, 


[    '5    ] 

By  Nature  taught  he  ftrikes  th'  unerring  lines, 
Confults  his  eye,  and  as  he  fees  defigns. 

Man's  changeful  race,  the  fport  of  chance  and  time,  Varjtlir.- 
Varies  no  lefs  in  afpecl  than  in  clime  ; 
Mark  well  the  difference,  and  let  each  be  feen 
Of  various  age,  complexion,  hair,  and  mem. 

Yet  to  each  fep'rate  form  adapt  with  care  ix. 

Conformity  of* 

Such  limbs,  fuch  robes,  fuch  attitude  and  air,   1 7  r  lid  i>apSery 

to  the  Head. 

As  beft  befit  the  head,  and  beft  combine 
To  make  one  whole,  one  uniform  defign  ; 
Learn  a&iori  from  the  dumb,  the  dumb  mall  teach  x. 

Atfion  of 

How  happieft  to  fupply  the  want  of  fpeech. 


Sub  vifu  in  multis  refcrens,  mendofa  labafcit;  120 

Nam  Geometralem  nunquam  funt  corpora  juxta 
Menfuram  depida  oculis,  fed  qualia  vifa. 

Non  eadem  forms  fpecies,  non  omnibus  setas 
^qualis,  fimilefque  color,  crinefque  figuris  : 
Nam,  variis  velut  orta  plagis,  gens  difpare  vultu  efl.      125 

Singula  membra,  fuo  capiti  conformia,  fiant 
Unum  idemque  fimul  corpus  cum  veflibus  iplis : 
Mutorumque  filens  pofitura  imitabitur  aclus. 


VIII. 

Varietas  in 
Figiuis. 


IX. 

Figura  (it  una 
membris  et 
veftibus. 
X. 

Mutorum   ac- 
tiones  imi- 


C    16    ] 

xi.  Fair  in  the  front  in  all  the  blaze  of  light,      180 

The  principal 

The  Hero  of  thy  piece  fhould  meet  the  fight, 
Supreme  in  beauty  ;  lavifli  here  thine  Art, 
XII       And  bid  him  boldly  from  the  canvas  ftart ; 
gures.         While  round  that  fov'reign  form  th'  inferior  train 
In  groups  collected  fill  the  pidtur'd  plain :  185 

Fill,  but  not  croud  ;  for  oft  fome  open  fpace 
Muft  part  their  ranks,  and  leave  a  vacant  place, 
Left  artlefsly  difpers'd  the  fever'd  Crew 
At  random  rufh  on  our  bewilder'd  view ; 
Or  parts  with  parts  in  thick  confufion  bound,  199 
Spread  a  tumultuous  Chaos  o'er  the  ground. 

XI  Prima  figurarum,  feu  princeps  dramatis,   ultrb 

ceps.  Profiliat  media  in  tabula,  fub  lumine  primo 

Pulchrior  ante  alias,  reliquis  nee  operta  figuris. 
x«.  Agglomerata  fimul  fint  membra,  ipfasque  figurae 

Figurarum 

giobi  feu  cu  Stipentur,  circumque  globos  locus  ufque  vacabit; 
Ne,  male  difperfis  dum  vifus  ubique  figuris 
Dividitur,  cundlifque  operis  fervente  tumultu 
Partibus  implicitis,  crepitans  confufio  furgat. 


C     '7     ] 

In  evVy  figured  group  the  judging  eye  .  xm. 

Demands  the  charms  of  contrariety,  cw»p*  l 

In  forms,  in  attitudes  expefts  to  trace,  195 

Diftincl:  inflexions,  and  contrafted  grace, 
Where  Art  diverfely  leads  each  changeful  line, 
Oppofes,  breaks,  divides  the  whole  defign  ; 
Thus  when  the  reft  in  front  their  charms  difplay, 
Let  one  with  face  averted  turn  away,  200 

Shoulders  oppofe  to  breafts,  and  left  to  right, 
With  parts  that  meet  and  parts  that  fhun  the  fight. 
This  rule  in  practice  uniformly  true 
Extends  alike  to  many  forms  or  few. 

Yet  keep  thro'  all  the  piece  a  perfecl  poize  :  2OJA  B^ce  ta 

-r/~i  r  ir  T  be  kept  in  the 

If  here  in  frequent  troops  the  figures  rife,  pi^ure« 

Inque  figurarum  cumulis  non  omnibus  idem  XIIT< 

Ppfiturarurn 

Corporis  inflexus,  motufque;  vel  artubus  otnnes  diverfiras  in 

r  cumulis. 

Converfis  pariter  non  connitantur  eodem^ 

Sed  quasdam  in  diverfa  trahant  contraria  membra,  140 

Tranfverfeque  aliis  pu^nent,  .&  caetera  frangant. 

Pluribus  adverfis  averfam  oppone  figuram, 

Pedoribufque  humeros,  &  dextera  membra  iiniftris, 

Seu  multis  conftabit  opus,  paucifve  figuris. 

Altera  pars  tabulae  vacuo  neu  frigida  camno,  145      xiv. 

J  Tabulae  libra* 

Aut  deferta  fiet,  dum  pluribus  altera  formis 

c 


[     r8     ] 

There  let  fome  objedl  tower  with  equal  pride  £ 
And  fo  arrange  each  correfpondent  fide 
That,  thro'  the  well-conne&ed  plan  appear 
No  cold  vacuity,  no  defer t  drear.  210 

of  t*eVNum-      Say  does  the  Poet  glow  with  genuine  rage, 

ber  of  Figures 

Who  crouds  with  pomp  and  noife  his  buftling  ftage  r 
Devoid  alike  of  tafte  that  Painter  deem, 
Whofe  flutt'ring  works  with  num'rous  figures  teem  ;• 
A  tafk  fo  various  how  fhall  Art  fulfill,  215 

When  oft  the  fimpleft  forms  elude  our  {kill  ? 
But,  did  the  toil  fucceed,  we  flill  flaould  lofe 
That  folemn  majefty,  that  foft  repofe, 

Fervida  mole  fua  iupremam  exfurgit  ad  oram. 
Sed  tibi  He  pofitis  refpondeat  utraque  rebus, 
Ut  fi  aliquid  furfum  fe  parte  attollat  in  una, 
Sic  aliquid  parte  ex  alia  confurgat,  &  ambas  I  coi 

^iquiparet,  geminas  cumulando  aequaliter  eras. 
xv-  _        Pluribus  implicitum  perfonis  drama  fupremo 

Numerus  Fi- 

In  genere,  ut  rarum  eft,  multis  ita  denfa  figuris 

Rarior  eft  tabula  excellens;  vel  adhuc  fere  nulla- 

Praeftitit  in-  multis,  quod  vix  bene  prxftat  in  una:  jj* 

Quippe  folct  rerum  nimio  difperfa  tumultu, 

Majeftate  carere  gravi,  requieque  decora; 


[     '9    ] 

Dear  to  the  curious  eye,  and  only  found, 
Where  few  fair  objects  fill  an  ample  ground.    220 
Yet  if  fome  grand  important  theme  demand 
Of  many  needful  Forms  a  bufy  band, 
Judgment  will  fo  the  feveral  groups  unite, 
That  one  compared  whole  fliall  meet  the  fight. 

The  joints  in  each  extreme  diftinctly  treat,  2  2  c      xvr. 

The  Joints  of 

Nor  e'er  conceal  the  outline  of  the  feet: 
The  hands  alike  demand  to  be  expreft 
In  half-ftiewn  figures  rang'd  behind  the  reft. 
Nor  can  fuch  forms  with  force  or  beauty  fhine, 
Save  when  the  head  and  hands  in  adtion  join. 


xvn 

The     Motion 


Nee  fpeciofa  nitet,  vacuo  nifi  libera  campo. 

Sed  fi  opere  in  magno,  plures  thema  grande  requirat 

Effe  figurarum  cumulos,  fpe&abitur  una  160 

Machina  tota  rei  ;  non  fingula  quzeque  feorfim. 

Praecipua  extremis  raro  internodia  membris 
Abdita  fint;  fed  fumma  pedum  vefligia  nunquam. 

Gratia  nulia  manet,  .motufque,  vigorque  figuras 
Retro  aliis  fubter  majori  ex  parte  latentes, 
Ni  capitis  motum  manibus  comitentur  agendo. 

c  2 


xvi. 

Internodia  & 


xvn. 

Motus  Manu 

i6cum  motui  ca- 

"  pitis  jungen- 


Each  air  conftrain'd  and  forc'd,  each  gefture  rude? 

"What  Things         t  t  •         i 

are  tobe  avoid- whate  CT  contracts  or  cramps  the  attitude, 

ed  in  the  Di- 

the  piece.  °  With  fcom  difcard.     When  fqnares  or  angles  join, 
When  flows  in  tedious  parallel  the  line. 
Acute,  obtufe,  whene'er  the  fhapes  appear,      235 
Or  take  a  formal  geometric  air, 
1    -  Thefe  all  difpleafe,  and  the  difgufted  eye 

Naufeates  the  tame  and  irkfome  fymmetry. 
Mark  then  *  our  former  rule  ;  with  contraft  ftrong^ 
And  mode  tranfverfe  the  leading  lines  prolong, 
For  thefe  in  each  defign,  if  well  expreft,  241. 

Give  value,  force,  and  luftre  to  the  refL 


xviii.          Difficiles  fugito  afpedtus,  contradaque  vifa 

Quae  fugienda 

in  diitribu-    Membra  fub  ingrato,  motufque,  adufque  coa<5los •;: 

tione  &  com- 

3ne'       Quodque  refert  fignis,  rectos  quodammodo  tradtus,. 

Sive  parallelos  plures  firnul,  &  vel  acutas,,  170 

Vel  geometrales  (ut  quadra,  triangula)  formas  : 

Ingratamque  pari  fignorum  ex  ordine  quandam 

Symmetriam  :  fed  praecipua^in  contraria  Temper 

Signa  volunt  duci.tranfverfa,  ut  *  diximus  ante. 

Summa  igitur.  ratio  fignorum  habeatur  in  omni  j.^j 

Compofito  ')  dat  enim  reliquis  pretium,  atque  vigorem. 

*  Rule  XIII: 


[      21      ] 

Nor  yet  to  Nature  fuch  ftricl:  homage  pay 

t  x->,        •         i        i        1  Nature  to  be 

As  not  to  quit  when  Genius  leads  the  way;  accommoda- 

J  ted  to  Genius. 

Nor  yet,  tho'  Genius  all  his  fuccour  fends,        245 
Her  mimic  pow'rs  tho'  ready  Mem'ry  lends, 
Prefume  from  Nature  wholly  to  depart,. 
For  Nature  is-  the  arbitrefs  of  art- 
In  Error's  grove  ten  thoufanci  thickets  fpread, 
Ten  thoufand  devious  paths  our  fteps  miflead  ;  250 
'Mid  curves^  that  vary  in  perpetual  twine, 
Truth  owns  but  one  direct  and  perfedl  line. 

Spread  then  her  genuine  charms  o'er  all  the  piece,      xx. 

The  Antiqce 

Sublime  and  perfedl  as  they  glow'd  in  Greece. 


Non  ita  naturae  aiVanti  iis  cuique  revinftus,  -  xix. 

Natura  genio 

Hanc  praeter  nihil  ut  genio  iludioque  relinquas;  accommodan- 

Nee  fine  tefte  rei  natura,  artiique  magiflra, 

Quidlibet  ingenio,  memor  ut  tantummodo  rerum,  180 

Pingere  pofle  putes  ;  errorum  eft  plurima  fylva, 

Multiplicefque  vise,-  bene  agendi  terminus  unus, 

Linea  re<fta  velut  fola  eft,  &  mille  recurva?  ;- 

Sedjuxta  antiques  naturam  imitabere  pulchram,  signa  an'tiqua 

Natura;  mo- 

Qualem  forma  rei  propria,  objedlumque  requirit.  i85dum 

e  3 


Thofe  genuine  Charms  to  fei-ze,  with  zeal  explore 
The  vafes,  medals,  ftatueS)  form'd  of  yore,        256 
Relievos  high  that  fwell  the  column's  ftem, 
Speak  from  the  marble,  fparkle  from  the  gem: 
Hence  all-majeftic  on  th'  expanding  foul, 

j|S 

In  copious  tide  the  bright  ideas  roll  ;  26® 

. 
Fill  it  with  radiant  forms  unknown  before, 

Forms  fuch  as  demigods  and  heroes  wore  : 
Here  paufe  and  pity  our  enervate  days, 
Hopelefs  to  rival  their  tranfcendant  praife. 
xxi.  m       Peculiar  toil  on  (ingle  forms  beftow,  26* 

now  to  paint  o  -» 

There  let  Expreffion  lend  its  finifh'd  glow  ; 

There  each  variety  of  tint  unite 

With  the  full  harmony  of  {hade  and  light. 

Non  te  igitur  latcant  antiqua  numifmata,  gemmae, 
Vafa,  typi,  flat  use,  caslataque  marmora  fignis, 
Quodque  refert  fpecie  veterum  poft  faecula  mentem  : 
*       Splendidior  quippc  ex  illis  affurgit  imago, 

Magnaque  fe  rerum  facies  aperit  meditanti;  .19Q 

Tune  noftri  tenuem  faecli  miferebere  fortem, 
Cum  fpes  nulla  fiet  rediturse  aequalis  in  asvum. 
Exquifita  fiet  forma,  dum  Tola  figura 


tanda, 

Pingitur  ;  &  multis  variata  coloribus  eilo 


Free  o'er  the  limbs  the  flowing  vefture  caft,       f     XXIf 
The  light  broad  folds  with  grace  majeftic  pkc'd; 
And  as  each  figure  turns  a  different  way,  271 

Give  the  large  plaits  their  correfponding  play  ; 
Yet  devious  oft  and  fwelling  from  the  part, 
The  flowing  robe  with  eafe  fliould  feem  to  ftart ; 
Not  on  the  form  in  ftiff  adhefion  laid,  275 

But  well  reliev'd  by  gentle  light  and  fliade. 

Where'er  a  flat  vacuity  is  feen, 
There  let  fome  fhadowy  bending  intervene, 
Above,   below,  to  lead  its  varied  line, 
As  beft  may  teach  the  diftant  folds  to  join ;    280 


Lati,  amplique  linus  pannorum,  &  nobilis  ordo          joe      xxir. 

y:>QuidinPanni3 

Membra  fequtns,  fubter  latkantia  lumine  6c  umbra 

Exprimet^  ille  licet  tranfverfus  faepe  feratur, 

Et  circumfufos  pannorum  perrigat  extra 

Membra  finus,.  non  contiguos,  ipfifque  figurae 

Partibus  impreffos,  quafi  pannu5  adhsereat  illis ;  200 

Sed  modice  expreflbs  cum  lumine  fervet  &  umbris  ; 

Qussque  intermiffis  paflim  funt  difTita  vanis, 
Copulet,  indudis  fubterve,  fuperve  lacernis, 


t    *4   1 

And  as  the  limbs  by  few  bold  ftrokes  expreft 
Expel  in  beauty,  fo  the  liberal  veft 
In  large,  diftind,  unwri-nkled  folds  iliould  fly  ; 
Beauty's  beft  handmaid  is  Simplicity. 

To  different  Ranks  adapt  their  proper  robe  285 
With  ample  pall  let  monarchs  fweep  the  globe  ; 
In  garb  fuccin6t  and  coarfe,   array  the  Swain. 
In  light  and  filken  veils  the  Virgin  train. 

Where  in  black  {hade  the  deeper  hollow  lies 
Affifting  art  fome  midway  fold  fupplies  290 

That  gently  meets  the  light,  and  gently  fpreads 
break  the  hardnefs  of  oppofing  ihades. 


Et  Membra,  ut  magnis,  paucifque  exprefTa  lacertis,    ' 
'Majeftate  aliis  praeflant,  forma,  atque  decore  :  20^5 

Haud  fecus  in  pannis,  quos  fupra  optavimus  amplos, 
Perpaucos  finuum  flexus,  .rugafque,  ftriafque, 
Membra  fuper,  yerfu  facile.s,  inducere  praeflat. 

Naturaeque  rei  proprius  lit  pannus,  abundans 
Patriciis;;  Aiccindtus  erit,  craffufque  bubulcis,  210 

Mancipiifque  ;  kvis  teneris,  gracilifque  puellis. 

Inque  cavis  maculifque  umbrarum  aliquando  tumefcet, 
Lumen  ut  excipiens,  operis  qua  mafia  requirit, 
jLatius  extendat,  fublatifque  aggreget  umbris. 


XXIJI. 

OfPidure!  .  •: 
Ornament. 


Each  nobler  fymbol  claffic  Sages  ufe 
To  mark  a  Virtue,   or  adorn  a  Mufe, 
Enfigns  of  War,   of  Peace,   or  Rites  divine,     295 
Thefe  in  thy  work  with  dignity  may  mine : 
But  fparingly  thy  earth-born  flores  unfold,  xxrv. 

Ornarar.ent  ci" 

Nor  load  with  gems,   nor  lace  with  tawdry  gold  ; 
Rare  things  alone  are  dear  in  Cuftom's  eye, 
They  lofe  their  value  as  they  multiply. 

Of  abfent  forms  the  features  to  define, 
Prepare  a  model  to  direcl  thy  line ; 
Each  garb,  each  cuftom,  with  precision  trace, 
Unite  in  ftricl:  decorum  time  with  place ; 
And  emulous  alone  of  genuine  fame, 
Be  Grace,   be  Majefty  thy  conftant  aim, 


300 


XXV. 

OftheModtl. 


XXVI. 
Union  of  the 
Piece. 


305     xxvi  r. 

Grace  and 

Majcily. 


Nobilia  arma  juvant  Virtutum  ornantque  figuras, 
Qualia  Mufarum,  Belli,  cultufque  Deorum. 
Nee  fit  opus  nimium  gemmis  auroque  refertum ; 
Kara  etenim  magno  in  pretio,  fed  plurima  vili. 

Qua?  deinde  ex  vero  nequeant  prxfente  videri, 
Prototypum  prius  illorum  formare  juvabit. 

Conveniat  locus,  atque  habitus  ;  ritufque  decufque 
Servetur :   Sit  nobilitas,   Charitumque  venuftas, 

D 


2 1  c     xxnr. 

J  Tabula  Uma- 


XXIV. 
Ornamentuni 
Auri  &  Gem- 
marum. 

XXV. 
Prototypus. 

220     XXyr. 

Convenientia 
rerum  cum 
Scena. 

xxv!  r. 

Chr-rites  & 
Nobilhas.  - 


[    26    ] 

That  Majefty,  that  Grace  fo  rarely  given 
To  mortal  man,  not  taught  by  art  but  Heav'n, 
XXVIIT.         In  all  to  fage  propriety  attend, 

Every    Thing 

place.  pn  ;r  Nor  fink  the  clouds,  nor  bid  the  waves  afcend;3io 
Lift  not  the  mansions  drear  of  Hell  or  Night 
Above  the  Thunderer's  lofty  arch  of  light  ; 
Nor  build  the  column  on  an  ofler  bafe, 
But  let  each  object  know  its  native  place. 
xxix.         Thy  laft,  thy  nobl  eft  tafk  remains  untold,    arc 

The  Paffioos.  >.  /'  /  '     O     3 

Paffion  to  paint,  and  fentiment  unfold  ; 
Yet  how  thefe  motions  of  the  mind  difplay  ! 
Can  colours  catch  them,  or  can  lines  portray  ? 

* 

(Rarum  homini  munus,  Ccelo,  non  arte  petendum^) 
xxvin.         Naturae  fit  ubique  tenor,  ratioque  fequenda. 

Res   quasqae 

locum  fuunj    Non  vicina  pedum  ^^  tabulata  excelfa  tonantis  22  c 

* 


teneat. 


Aftra  domus  depidta  gerent,  nubefque,  notofque; 
Nee  mare  depreflum  laquearia  fumma,  vel  Orcum  j 
Marmoreamque  feret  cannis  vaga  pergula  molem  : 
Congrua  fed  propria.  Temper  ilatione  locentur. 

xxix.         HSEC  prscter,  motus  animorum,  &  corde  repoitos        2  ?o 
Atfedw. 

Exprimere  aftc^us,  paucifque  coloribus  ipfam 


C   27  ] 

Who  mall  our  pigmy  Pencils  arm  with  might 
To  feize  the  Soul  and  force  her  into  fight  ?      320 
Jove,  Jove  alone  ;  his  highly- fa vor'd  few 
Alone  can  call  fuch  miracles  to  view. 

But  this  to  Rhet'ric  and  the  Schools  I  leave, 
Content  from  antient  lore  one  rule  to  give, 
"  By  tedious  toil  no  Paffions  are  expreft,  325 

"  His  hand  who  feels  them  ftrongeft  paints  them 
beft." 

Y  v  Y 

Yet  fhall  the  Mufe  with  all  her  force  profcribe    Gothic  o 

A  ment  to  be 

Of  bafe  and  barbarous  forms  that  Gothic  tribe 

Pingere  pofTe  animam,  atque  oculis  praebere  videndam, 

"  Hoc  opusy  bic  labor  eft.     Pauci,  quos  aquus  amavit 

*'  yupfittr>  #ut  ardens  evexit  ad  eethera  virtus, 

4«  Dis  Jimiles potuere"  manu  miracula  tanta.  235 

Hos  ego  Rhetoribus  tradtandos  defero ;  tantum 
Egregii  antiquum  memorabo  fophifma  magiflrij 
"  Verius  affeffius  animi  vigor  exprimit  ardensy 
"  Bolliciti  nimlum  quam  fedula  cur  a  labor  is. 

Denique  nil  fapiat  Gothorum  barbara  trito  240     xxx. 

Gothorum 

Ornamenta  modo,  faeclorum  &  monftra  malorum  :  ornamema 

iiigieada. 
D    2 


[      28      ] 

Which  fprang  to  birth,  what  time,  thro'  luft  of  fway, 
Imperial  Latium  bad  the  world  obey:  330 

Fierce  from  the  north  the  headlong  Demons  flew, 
The  wreaths  of  Science  wither'd  at  their  view, 
Plagues  were  their  harbingers,  an.d  War  accurft, 
And  Luxury  of  every  fiend  the  worft  ; 
Then  did  each  Mufe  behold  her  triumphs  fade,  335 
Then  penfive  Painting  droop'd  the  languifh'd  head; 
And  forrowing  Sculpture,  while  the  ruthlefs  flame 
Involved  each  trophy  of  her  filler's  fame,. 
Fled  to  fepulchral  cells  her  own  to  fave, 
And  lurk'd  a  patient  inmate  of  the  grave.         340 
Meanwhile  beneath  the  frown  of  angry  Heav'n, 
Unworthy  ev'ry  boon  its  fmile  had  given, 


Queis  ubi  Bella,  famem,  &  peftem,  difcordia,  luxus,, 
Et  Romanorum  res  grandior  intulit  orbi, 
Ingenue  periere  artes,  periere  fuperbae 
Artificum  moles;  fua  tune  miracula  vidit 
Ignibus  abfumi  Pidura,  latere  coada 
Fornicibus,  fortem  &  reliouam  confidere  cryptis; 
Marmoribufque  diu  Sculptura  jacere  fepultis. 
Imperium  interea,  fcelerum  gravitate  fatifcens, 


C   29  ] 

Involved  in  Error's  cloud,  and  fcorn'd  of  light 

The  guilty  Empire  funk.      Then  horrid  Night, 

And  Dullnefs  drear  their  murky  vigils  kept,      345 

In  favage  gloom  the  impious  Ages  flept, 

Till  Genius,  ftarting  from  his  rugged  bed, 

Full  late  awoke  the  ceafelefs  tear  to  fhed 

For  perifli'd  Art  ;   for  thofe  celeftial  Hues, 

Which  Zeuxis,  aided  by  the  Attic  Mufe,          350 

Gave  to  the  wond'ring  Eye  :   She  bad  his  name,     Se^'pa 

cf  Painting. 

With  thine,   Apelles  !  gild  the  lifts  of  Fame, 
With  thine  to  Coloring's  brighteft  glories  foar, 
The  Gods  applaud  him,  and  the  World  adore. 

Horrida  nox  totum  invafit,  donoque  fuperni  250. 

Luminis  indignum,  errorum  caligine  merfit,, 

Impiaque  ignaris  damnavit  £ecla  tenebris. 

Unde  coloratura  Graiis  hue  ufque  magiftris 

Nil  fuperefl  tantorum  hominum,  quod  mente  modoque 

Noftrates  }uvet  artifices,  doceatque  laborem  ;  255 

I^ec  qui  Chromatices  nobls,  hoc  tempore,  partes  CHROMA 

Reftituat,  quaies  Zeuxis  tradlaverat  olim, 

Hujus  quando  magi  vclut  arte  aquavit  Apellem 

Pidorum  archigraphum,   meruitque  coloribus  altam 

Nominis  seterni  famam,  toto  orbe  fonantem.  260 

D  3 


TIC  E  s  terta- 


[     3°    ] 

Alas  !    how  loft  thofe  magic  mixtures  all !    355 
No  hues  of  his  now  animate  the  wall ; 
How  then  fliall  modern  Art  thofe  hues  apply, 
How  give  Defign  its  finim'd  dignity  ? 
Return  fair  COLORING  !  all  thy  lures  prepare, 
Each  fafe  deception,  every  honeft  fnare,  360 

Which  brings  new  lovers  to  thy  lifter's  train, 
Skilful  at  once  to  charm,   and  to  retain ; 
Come  faithful  Siren  !  chaft  feducer !  fay, 
What  laws  control  thee,  and  what  powers  obey. 

Know  firft  that  Light  difplays  and  fhade  deftroys 
Refulgent  Nature's  variegated  dyes. 

Thus  bodies  near  the  light  diftinctly  fhine 
With  rays  direct,  and  as  it  fades  decline. 

Haec  quidem  ut  in  tabulis  fallax,  fed  grata  venuftas, 

Et  complementum  graphidos,  inirabile  vifu, 

Pulchra  vocabatur,  fed  fubdola,  lena  fororis : 

Non  tamen  hoc  lenocinium,  fucufque,  dolufque 

Dedecori  fuit  unquam  ;  illi  fed  femper  honor^  265 

Laudibus  &  mentis  -,  hanc  ergo  nofie  juvabit. 

Lux  variqm,  vivumque  dabit,  nullum  umbra,  colorem. 

Quo  magis  adverfum  eft  corpus,  lucique  propinquum? 
Clarius  eft  lumen ;  nam  debilitatur  eundo. 


C    3*     ] 

Thus  to  the  eye  oppos'd  with  ftronger  light 
They  meet  its  orb,  for  diftance  dims  the  fight.  370 

Learn  hence  to  paint  the  parts  that  meet  the  view    xxxi. 

The  Condud 


Shadow. 


In  fpheric  forms,   of  bright,  and  equal  hue  ;  of  Light 

While  from  the  light  receding  or  the  Eye 

The  finking  outlines  take  a  fainter  dye. 

Loft  and  confus'd  progreffively  they  fade,          -375 

Not  fall  precipitate  from  light  to  (hade. 

This  Nature  dictates,  and  this  Tafte  purfues, 

Studious  in  gradual  gloom  her  lights  to  lofe, 

The  various  whole  with  foft'ning  tints  to  fill 

As  if  one  fingle  head  employ'd  her  {kill.  380 

Thus  if  bold  Fancy  plan  fome  proud  defign, 

Where  many  various  groups  divide  or  join, 


Quo  magis  eft  corpus  dire&um,  oeulifque  propinquum, 
Confpicitur  melius^  nam  vifus  hebefcit  eundo.  271 

Ergo  in  corporibus,  quse  vifa  adverfa,  rotundis*  xxxr. 

ToBorum  Lir 

Integra  funt,  extrema  abfcedant  perdita  fignis 

Confufis,  non  praecipiti  labentur  in  umbram 

Clara  gradu,  nee  adumbrata  in  clara  alta  repcnte  275 

Prorumpant;  fed  erit  fenfim  hinc  atque  inde  meatus 

Lucis  &  umbrarum  ;  capitifque  unius  ad  inftar, 

Totum  opus,  ex  multis  quamquam  fit  partibus,  unus- 


[      32       ] 

(Tho'  fure  from  more  than  three  confufion  fprings) 
One  globe  of  light  and  fhade  o'er  all  fhe  flings  ; 
Yet  fkill'd  the  feparate  maffes  to  difpofe,  385 

Where'er,  in  front,   the  fuller  radiance  glows, 
Behind,  a  calm  repofing  gloom  {he  fpreads, 
Relieving  {hades  with  light,   and  light  with  fhades. 
And  as  the  centre  of  fome  convex  glafs 
Draws  to  a  point  the  congregated  mafs  390 

Of  dazzling  rays,   that,   more  than  nature  bright, 
Reflect  each  image  in  an  orb  of  light, 
While  from  that  point  the  fcatter'd  beams  retire. 
Sink  to  the  verge  and  there  in  fhade  expire ; 

Luminis  .umbrarumque  globus  tantummodo  fiet, 

Sive  duas,  vel  tres  ad  fummum,  ubi  grandius  efTet          280 

Divifum  pegma  in  partes  ftatione  remotas. 

Sintque  ita  difcreti  inter  fe,  ratione  colorum, 

Luminis,  umbrarumque,  an.trorfum  ut  corpora  clara 

Obfcura  umbrarum  requies  fpeftanda  relinquat; 

Claroque  exiliant  umbrata  atque  afpera  campo.  285 

Ac  veluti  in  fpeculis  convexis,  eminet  ante 

Afperior  reipsa  vigor,  6c  vis  atidla  colorum 

Partibus  adverfis ;  magis  6c  fuga  rupta  retrorfuni 

^llorum  eft  (ut  yifa  minus  vergentibus  oris) 


C    33    ] 

So  ftrongly  near,  fo  foftly  diftant  throw  395 

On  all  thy  rounded  groups  the  circling  glow. 

As  is  the  Sculptor's  fiich  the  Painter's  aim,  '  *V*>  *v> « •* 

Their  labor  different,  but  their  end  the -fame; 
What  from  the  marble  the  rude  chiffel  breaks 
The  fofter  pencil  from  the  canvas  takes,  400 

And,  fkill'd  remoter  diftances  to  keep, 
Surrounds  the  outline  pale  in  fhadows  deep : 
While  on  the  front  the  fparkling  luftre  plays, 
And  meets  the  eye  in  full  meridian  blaze. 
True  Coloring  thus  in  plaftic  power  excells,     405 
Fair  to  the  vifual  point  her  forms  flie  fwells, 


Corporibus  dabimus  formas  hoc  more  rotundas.  293 

Mente  modoque  igitur  plafles,  6c  pidtor,  eodem 
Difpofitum  tradtabit  opus ;  quas  fculptor  in  orbem 
Atterit,  haec  rupto  procul  abfcedente  colore 
AfTequitur  pictor,  fugientiaque  ilia  retrorfum 
Jam  ilgnata  minus  confufa  coloribus  aufert: 
Anteriora  quidem  dired:e  adverfa,  colore 
Integra  vivaci,  fummo  cum  lumine  &  umbra 
Antrorfum  diilindla  refert,  velut  afpera  vifu  j 
Sicque  fuper  planum  inducit  leucoma  colores, 

E 


[    34    ] 

And  lifts  them  from  their  flat  aeral  ground 
Warm  as  the  life,  and  as  the  ftatue  round. 
I*1  filyer  clouds  in  aether's  blue  domain, 


opake  Bodies  m 

with  uannu-  Qr  the  clear  mirror  of  the  watry  plain  410 

cfat  ones.  *     *• 

If  chance  fome  folid  fubftance  claim  a  place, 
Firm  and  opaque  amid  the  lucid  fjpace, 
Rough  let  it  fwell  and  boldly  meet  the  fight, 
Mark'd  with  peculiar  ftrength  of  fhade  and  light  ; 
There  blend  each  earthy  tint  of  heavieft  fort,  415 
At  once  to  give  confiftence  and  fupport, 
While  the  bright  wave,  foft  cloud,   or  azure  fky, 
Light  and  pellucid  from  that  fubftance  fly. 

Hos  velut  ex  ipsa  natura  immotus  eodem 
Intuitu  circum  ftatuas  daret  inde  rotundas, 
ixxn.          Denfa  figurarum  folidis  qua?  corpora  formic 

Corpora  denfa 

&  opaca  cumSubdita  funt  tadlu,  non  tranflucent,  fed  opaca 

itanflucenti- 

Jn  tranflucendi  fpatio  ut  fuper  aera,  nubes, 

Limpida  ftagna  undarum,  &  inania  ccetera  debent 

Afperiora  illis  prope  circumftantibus  efle ; 

Ut  diftincfla  magis  firmo  cum  lumine  &  umbra, 

Et  gravioribus  ut  fuftenta  coloribus,   inter 

Aerias  fpecies  fubfiftant  femper  opaca ; 

Sed  contra,  procul  abfcedunt  perlucida,  denfis 

Corporibus  leviora ;  utt  nubes,  aer,  & 


[    35    ] 

Permit  not  two  confpicuous  lights  to  fliine 

O  There  mu(fc 

With  rival  radiance  in  the  fame  defign ; 
But  yield   to  one  alone  the  power  to  blaze 
And  fpread  th'  extenfive  vigor  of  its  rays, 
There  where  the  nobleft  figures  are  difplay'd  $ 
Thence  gild  the  diftant  parts  and  lefiening  fade : 
As  fade  the  beams  which  Phoebus  from  the  Eaft 
Flings  vivid  forth  to  light  the  diftant  Weft,       426 
Gradual  thofe  vivid  beams  forget  to  fhine, 
So  gradual  let  thy  pidhir'd  lights  decline. 


Non  poterunt  diverfa  locis  duo  lumina  eadem  xxxm. 

Non  duo  ex 


In  tabula  paria  admitti,  aut  aequalia  pingi  : 
Majus  at  in  mediam  lumen  cadet  ufque  tabellam 
Latius  infufum,  primis  qua  fumma  nguris  315 

Res  agitur,  circumque  oras  minuetur  eundo: 
Utque  in  progreflu  jubar  attenuatur  ab  ortu 
Solis,  ad  occafum  paulatim,  &  ceffat  eundo  j 
Sic  tabulis  lumen,  tota  in  compage  colorum, 
Primo  a  fonte,  minus  fenlim  declinat  eundo.  323 

E    2 


[    36    ] 
The  fculptur'd  forms  which  fome  proud  Circus 

grace, 

In  Parian  Marble  or  Corinthian  Brafe,  430; 

Illumin'd.  thus,  give  to  the  gazing  eyey     . 
TlV  exprefiive  head  in  radiant  Majefty,. 
While  to  each  lower  limb  the  fainter  ray 
Lends  only  light  to  mark,   but  not  difplay : 
So  let  thy  pencil  fling  its  beams  around,  435 

Nor  e'er  with  darker  fhades  their  force  confound, 
For  fhades  too  dark  diflever'd  fhapes  will  give, 
And  fink  the  parts  their  foftnefs  would  relieve ; 
Then  only  well  reliev'd,  when  like  a  veil" 
Round  the  full  lights  the  wandring  fhadows  fteal ; 
Then  only  juftly  ipread,  when  to  the  fight      441 
A  breadth  of  fhade  purfues  a  breadth  of  light. 

Majus  tit  in  ftatuis,  per  compita  ftantibus  urbis, 

Lumen  habent  partes  fuperas,  minus  inferiores; 

Idem  erit  in  tabulis;   majofque  nee  umbra,  vel  ater 

Membra  figurarum  intrabit  color,  atqu'e  fecabit : 

Corpora  fed  circum  umbra  cavis  latitabit  oberrans ;          ^25 

Atque  ita  qua:retur  lux  opportuna  figuris, 

Ut  late  infufum  lumen  lata  umbra  iequatur* 


[    37    ] 

This  charm  to  give,   great  Titian  wifely  made 
The  clufter'd  grapes  his  rule  of  light  and  fhade. 

White,  when  it  fhines  with  unftanVd  luftre  clear,  -  _, 

1  Of  White  and 

May  bear  an  object  back  or  bring  it  near,,         446 
Aided  by  black  it  to  the  front  afpires^ 
That  aid  withdrawn  it  diftantly  retires ; 
But  Black  unmixt,   of  darkeft  midnight  hue. 
Still  calls  each  object  nearer  to  the  view.  4.50 

Whate'er  we  fpy  thro'  color'd  light  or  air,  xxxv. 

rj  TheRefleftioir 

A  ftain  congenial  on  their  furface  bear, 

While  neighboring  forms  by  joint  reflexion  give, 

And  mutual  take  the  dyes  that  they  receive. 

Unde,  nee  immerito,  fertur  Titianus  ubique 
Lucis  &c  umbrarum  normani  appellafle  racemum. 

Purum  album  e£e  potefl  propiufque  magifque  remotum  :    xxxiv. 

Album  &Ni- 

Cum  nigro  antevenit  propius ;  fugit  abfque,  remotum;  23i8rum<> 
Purum  autem  nigruin  antrorfum.  venit  ufque  propinquum. 

Lux  fucata  fuo  tingit  mifcetque  colore 
Corpora,  licque  fuo,   per  quern  lux  funditur,  aer. 

Corpora  jundta  (imul,  circumfuibfque  colores  335:    xxxv 

,.    r         n  Coloruni  re- 

Excipiunt,  propnumque  aliis  radiofa  renedunt. 

E  3 


'[    38    ] 
xxxvi.    But  where  on  both  alike  one  equal  light  45-5 

The  Union  of 

colours.       Diffufive  fpreads,  the  blending  tints  unite. 
For  breaking  Colors  thus  (the  antient  phrafe 
By  Artifts  us'd)  fair  Venice  claims  our  praife  ; 
She,  cautious  to  tranfgrefs  fo  fage  a  rule, 
Confin'd  to  fobereft  tints  her  learned  fchool,      460 
For  tho'  {he  lov'd  by-  varied  mode  to  join 
Tumultuous  crowds  in  one  immenfe  defign, 
Yet  there  we  ne'er  condemn  fuch  hoftile  hues 
As  cut  the  parts  or  glaringly  confufe  ; 
In  tinfel  trim  no  foppifh  form  is  dreft,  465 

Still  flows  in  graceful  unity  the  veft, 


xxxvi.         Pluribus  in  folidis  liquida  fub  luce  propinquis, 

XJnioColorwm, 

Participes,  mixtofque  fimul  decet  elTe  colores, 
Hanc  normam  Veneti  pidlores  rite  fequuti, 
(Quas  fuit  antiquis  corruptio  difta  colorum) 
Cum  plures  opere  in  magno  pofuere  figuras, 
Ne  conjundta  fimul  variorum  inimica  colorum 
Congeries  formam  implicitam,  5c  concifa  minutis 
.Membra  daret  pannis,  totam  unamquamque  flguram 
A.ffirii,  aut  uno  tantum  veftire  colore, 


[    39    ] 

And  o'er  that  veft  a  kindred  mantle  fpreads, 
Unvaried  but  by  power  of  lights  and  fhades, 
Which  mildly  mixing,  ev'ry  focial  dye 
Unites  the  whole  in  lovelieft  harmony.  470 

When  fmall  the  fpace,  or  pure  the  ambient  air,      xxxvn 

Of  the  Inter- 

Each  form  is  feen  in  bright  precifion  clear  ; 

But  if  thick  clouds  that  purity  deface, 

If  far  extend  that  intervening  fpace, 

There  all  confus'd  the  objects  faintly  rife,        475 

As  if  prepar'd  to  vanifli  from  our  eyes. 

Give  then  each  foremoft  part  a  touch  fo  bright, 
That,  o  er  the  reft,  its  domineering  light 


Te 

of  DiUances. 


Suntfoliti;  variando  tonis  tunicamque,  togamque, 
Carbafeofque  finus,  vel  amicum  in  lumine  &  umbra 
Contiguis  circum  rebus  fociando  colorem. 

Qua  minus  eft  fpacii  aerei,  aut  qua  purior  aer, 
Cuncta  magis  diftinda  patent,  fpeciefque  refervant :        350 
Qu_aque  magis  denfus  nebulis,  aut  plurimus  aer 
Amplum  inter  fuerit  fpatium  porredlus,  in  auras 
Confundet  rerum  fpecies,  5c  perdet  inanes. 

Anteriora  magis  Temper  finita,  remotis 
Incertis  dominentur  &  abfcedentibus,  idque  355 


XXXVIT. 
Aer  Interpo- 

fitus. 


xxxyiir. 

Diftantiaiura 
Relatio. 


C    40     ] 

May  much  prevail ;  yet  relative  in  all 
Let  greater  parts  advance  before  the  fmall.        480 
Minuter  forms,  when  diftantly  we  trace, 

which  are  di- 

Are  mingled  all  in  one  compared  mafs ; 
Such  the  light  leaves  that  cplothe  remoter  woods, 
And  fuch  the  waves  on  wide  extended  floods. 
Let  each  contiguous  part  be  firm  allied,        485 

and  feparated 

Bodies.  Nor  labour  lefs  the  feparate  to  divide  ; 
Yet  fo  divide  that  to  th'  approving  eye 
They  both  at  fmall  and  pleafing  diftance  lie. 

XLI 

colors  very        Forbid  two  hoftile  Colours  clofe  to  meet, 

oppofne  to 

each  other  ne-  .  .    .  •  i  1 1         •  i  .          c 

ver  to  be  join- And  win  with  middle  tints  their  union  iweet,  490 


More  relative,  ut  majora  minoribus  extent, 
xxxix.         Cunfta  minuta  procul  maffam  denfantur  in  unam ; 

Corpora    pro- 

ltantia>  Ut  folia  arboribus  fylvarum,  &  in  squore  fludus. 
XL.  Contigua  inter  fe  coe'ant,  fed  diffita  diftent, 

Contigua  & 

Diftabuntque  tamen  grato,  &  difcrimine  parvo. 
XLI.  Extrema  extremis  contraria  jungere  noli; 

Contraria  ex- 

ueraa  ^g«en-ged  m^'lQ  fint  ufque  gfacju  fociata 


[      4*      ] 

Yet  varying  all  thy  tones,  let  fome  afoire 
Fiercely  in  front,  fome  tenderly  retire. 

Vain  is  the  hope  by  coloring  to  difplay 
The  bright  effulgence  of  the  noontide  ray, 
Or  paint  the  full-orb'd  Ruler  of  the  fides        495 
With  pencils  dipt  in  dull  terreftrial  dyes ; 
But  when  mild  Evening  fheds  her  golden  light ; 
When  Morn  appears  array'd  in  modeft  white ; 
When  foft  fuffuiion  of  the  vernal  fhower          499 
Dims  the  pale  fun ;  or,  at  the  thundering  hour, 
When,  wrapt  in  crimfon  clouds,  he  hides  his  head, 
Then  catch  the  glow  and  on  the  canvas  fpread, 


XLII. 

Diverfiiy  of 
Tints  and  Co- 
lours. 

XLIIf. 

The  Choice  of 
Light. 


Corporurn  erit  Tonus  atque  color  variatus  ubique; 
Quasrat  amicitiam  retro ;  ferus  emicet  ante. 

Supremum  in  tabulis  lumen  cap  tare  diei, 
Infanus  labor  artificum ;  cum  attingere  tan  turn 
Non  pigmenta  queant ;  auream  fed  vefpere  lucem, 
Seu  modicum  mane  albentem  j  five  aetheris  aclam 
Poft  hyemem  nimbis  transfufo  fole  caducam ; 
Seu  nebulis  fultam  recipient,  tonitruque  rubentem. 

F 


xtrr. 

Tonus&Color 
varii. 


365       XL-Ill. 
Luminis  dc- 


57° 


[      4*      J 

XLIV.         Bodies  of  polifh'd  or  tranfparent 


Of  certain 


the" 


Of  metal,   chryftal,  iv'ry,  wood,  or  ftone  ;: 


pradical  Part. 

And  all  whofe  rough  unequal  parts  are  rear'd,  505 
The  fhaggy  fleece,  thick  fur,  or  briftly  beard  ^ 
The  liquid  too  ;   the  fadly  melting  eye, 
The  well-comb'd  locks  that  wave  with  gloffy  dye; 
Plumage  and  filks;  a  floating  form  that  take, 
Fair  Nature's  mirror  the  extended  lake,  ^xa 

With  what  immers'd  thro'  its  calm  medium  friines. 
By  reflex  light,  or  to  its  furface  joins  : 
Thefe  fir  ft  with  thin  and  even  fhades  portray, 
Then,  on  their  flatnefs,  ftrike  th'  enlivening  ray, 
Bright  and  diftindt,  and  laft  with  ftrift  review, 
Reftore  to  every  form  its  outline  true. 


s  *IJV\         Lffivia  que  lucent,  veluti  cryftalla,  metalla, 

Quedam  circa 

Ligna,  ofla,  &  lapides ;  villofa,  ut  vellera,  pelles^ 
Barbz,  aqueique  oculi,  crines,  hotoferica,  plumie; 
Et  liquida,  ut  ftagnans  aqua,  reflexxque  Tub  undis 
Corporeal  fpecies,  &  aquis  contermina  cuncfta, 
Subter  ad  extremum  liquide  fint  pida,  fuperque 
Luminibus  percufia  fuis,  fignifque  repoflis. 


[    43     ] 
By  mellowing  feill  thy  Ground  at  diftance 

.  .  -  .r  •         i   i     n 

Free  as  the  Air,  and  tranlient  as  its  blait: ; 
There  all  thy  liquid  Colors  iweetly  blend. 
There  all  the  treafures  of  thy  Palette  fpend,     52© 
And  ev'ry  form  retiring  to  that  ground 
Of  hue  congenial  to  itfelf  compound. 

The  hand  that  colors  well,  muft  color  bright; 

1  T  •       1         r    1  i  l   -  city  of  Colors 

Hope  not  that  praiie  to  gam  by  iickly  white ; 

But  amply  heap  in  front  each  fplendid  dye,      C2<    XLVH. 

J  Of  Shadows. 

Then  thin  and  light  withdraw  them  from  the  eye, 
Mix'd  with  that  fimple  unity  of  {hade,  XLVIH 

11  r  r        i  i  r  i  The  Piflure 

As  all  were  from  one  fingle  palette  ipread.  to. be  «f  "ne 


Area,  vel  campus  tabulas  vaeus  eflo.  levifque  XLV. 

Campus  Ta- 

Abfcedat  latus,  liquideque  bene  undus  amicis 

Tota  ex  mole  coloribus,  una  five  patella;  380 

Quasque  cadimt  retro  in  campum,  confinia  campo. 

Vividus  efto  color,  nimio  non  pallidus  albo  ;  ,XLvrt-.  . 

Color  vivtdus 

Adverfifque  locis  ingeftus  plurimus,  ardens : 
Sed  leviter  parceque  datus  vergentibus  oris. 

Cun(Sla  labore  fimul  coeant,  velut  umbra  in  eadem.     ^8cIT 

J    ^  Umbra. 

Tota  fiet  tabula  ex  una  depifta  patella.  XLVIH. 

*  Ex  una  Patella 

p  fit  Tabula. 


[     44    ] 
in  Much  will  the  Mirror  teach,  or  Evening  gray,, 


GtafsthePuin-         ,  •>          r  i       r  i  •!•     i 

ten's  belt  Ma-  when  Q  er  lome  ample  ipace  her  twilight  ray  530 
Obfcurely  gleams  ;.  hence  Art  fliall  beft  perceive 
On  diftant  parts  what  fainter  hues  to  give. 

AhaifLFigure      Whate'er  the  Form  which  our  firft  glance  com- 

or  a  whole  one 
before  others. 


Whether  in  front  or  in  profile  he  ftands, 
Whether  he  rule  the  group,  or  fingly  reign,     535 
Or  fhine  at  diftance  on  fome  ample  plain  j, 
On  that  high-finifh'd  Form  let  Paint  beftow 
Her  midnigjit  fliadow^,  her  meridian  glow, 
u.  The  Portrait  claims  from  imitative  art 

A  PortraU- 

Refemblance  clofe  in  each  minuter  part,  54<> 

And  this  to  give,  the  ready  hand  and  eye 
With  playful  (kill  the  kindred  features  ply  ; 

XLIX.         Malta  ex  natura  fpeculum  prasclara  docebit  j 

Speculum  P-.c- 

torum  Magi-  Q^XqUe  procul  fero  fpatiis  fpedantur  in  amplis. 


i"  Dimidia  effigies,   quae  fola,  vel  Integra  plures 

DimidiaFi- 


alias  pofita  ad  lucem,  ftat  proxima  vifu, 
Et  latis  fpedtanda  locis,  oculifque  remota,. 
Luminis  umbrarumque  gradu  fit  pi<Sa  fupremo. 
M-  Partibus  in  minimis  imitatio  jufta  iuvabit 

Kfngics. 

Effigiem,  altcrnas  referendo  teinpore  eodem 


[    45    I 

f 

From  part  to  part  alternately  convey: 
The  harmonizing  gloom,   the  darting  ray 
With  tones  fo  j-uft,  in  ,fuch  gradation  thrown,  54,5 
Adopting  Nature  owns  the  work  her  own. 

Say,  is  the  piece  thy  Hand  prepares  to  trace 
Qrdain'd  for  nearer  fightr  or  narrow  fpace  ? 
Paint  it  of  foft  and  amicable  hue:. 
But,  if  predeftin'd  to  remoter  view,  550 

Thy  ftrong  unequal  varied  colors  blend  ; 
And  ample  fpace  to  ample  figures  lend 
Where  to  broad  lights  the  circumambient  fhade 
In  liquid  play  by  labor  juft  is  laid  ^ 


Lir. 

The  Place  of 
the  Pitfure; 


LIU: 

Large  Lights.! 


Confimiles  partes,  cum  luminis  atque  coloris-  393 

Compofitis,  juftifque  tonis ;  tune  parta  labore 
Si  facili  &  vegeto  micat  ardens,  viva  videtutv 

Vifa  loco  angpfto  tenere  pingantmy  amico 
Junda  colore,  graduque  j  procul  qua?  pi&a,  feroci 
S'mt  &  inaequali  variata  colore,  tonoque.  400 

Grandia  figna  volunt  fpatia  ampla,  ferofque  colores.. 
JLumina  lata>  unctas  iimul  undique  copulet  umbras- 

F  3- 


LIT. 

Locus  Tabu-- 


Lin. 

Lumina  lata. 


i.iv.     Alike  with  livelieft  touch  the  Forms  portray, 

The  Quantity 


[    46    ] 

ouch  the 

Where  the  dim  window  half  excludes  the  day  ; 
But,  when  expos'd  in  fuller  light  or  air, 
A  brown  and  fober  caft  the  group  may  bear. 
LV.  .        Fly  ev'ry  Foe  to  elegance  and  grace, 

Things  which  /  < 

aSeiiS-  Each  yawning  hollow,  each  divided  fpace  ;       c6c 

ing  to  be  a-  J 

Whatever  is  trite,  minute,  abrupt,  or  dry, 
Where  light  meets  fliade  in  flat  equality  ; 
Each  theme  fantaftic,  filthy,  vile,  or  vain, 
That  gives  the  Soul  difguft,  or  fenfes  pain  ; 
Monfters  of  barbarous  birth,  Chimasras  drear,  5  65 
That  pall  with  uglinefs,  ,or  awe  with  fear, 


LIV.       Extremus  labor.     -In  tabulas  demifTa  feneftris 

Quantitas  Lu- 

S^  fucrit  lux  parva,  color  clariiTimus  efto  : 


Vividus  at  contra,  obfcuruique,  in  lumine  aperto.          405 
LV.  Qua?  vacuis  divifa  cavis,  vitare  memento; 

Errores  &  Vi- 

Trita,  minuta,  firnul  qua;  non  flipata  dehifcunt, 
Barbara,  cruda  oculis,  rugis  fucata  colorum; 
Luminis  umbrarumque  tonis  jcqualia  cuncla; 
Foeda,  crtienta,  cruces,  obfccena,  ingrata,  chimeras.,     410 
Sordidaque  &  mifera,  &  vel  acuta,  vel  afpera  tadtu  j 
dabunt  formae,  temere  congella,  ruinam, 


C    47    ] 

And  all  that  chaos  of  fharp  broken  parts, 
Where  reigns  Confufion,  or  whence  Difcord  flarts. 

Yet  hear  me,  Youths  !  while  zealous  ye  forfakeTheL^rr-den 

T>k         o      i    r      i  i  •      r  •         ti  r'a'  Part  °f 

Detected  raults,  this  friendly  caution  take,       570  Painter. 
Shun  all  excefs ;   and  with  true  Wifdom  deem,. 
That  Vice  alike  refides  in  each  extreme. 

Know,  if  fupreme  Perfection  be  your  aim, 
If  claffic  Praife  your  pencils  hope  to  claim, 
Your  nobk  outlines  muft  be  chafte,  yet  free,  575 
Connected  all  with  ftudied  Harmony ; 
Few  in  their  parts,  yet  thofe  diftincl  and  great ; 
Your  Coloring  boldly  ftrong,  yet  foftly  fweet. 


Lvn. 

The  idea  of  a? 
beautiful  Pic- 
ture. 


Jmplicitas  aliis  confundent  mixtaque  partes. 

Dumque  fugis  vitiofa,  cave  in  contraria  labi' 
Damnamali;  vitium  extremis  nam  Temper  inhacret.       415 

Pulchra  grada  fummo,  graphidos  flabilita  vctuftse 
Nobilibus  fignis,  funt  grandia,  diffita,  pura,> 
Terfa,  velut  minime  confufa,  labore  ligata, 
Partibus  ex  magnls  paucifque  effi&a,  colorum 
Corporibus  diftinda  feris,  fed  fcmper  amici^.  420 


Lvr.  p 

Prudentia  19 
Pidore. 


LVII. 

Elegantium 
Idaea  Tabuv 

laruni, 


[    4«     ] 
LVIII.         Know  he  that  well  begins  has  half  achieved 

Advice  to  a 

terHis  deftin'd  work.    Yet  late  ihall  be  retrieved    580 
That  time  mifpent,  that  labour  worfe  than  loft, 
The  young  difciple,  to  his  deareft  coft, 
Gives  to  a  dull  preceptor's  tame  defigns : 
His  tawdry  -colors,  his  erroneous  lines 
Will  Jto  the  foul  that  poifon  rank  .convey,          585 
Which  life's  beft  length  fhall  fail  to  purge  away. 

Yet  let  not  your  untutor'd  childhood  ftrive 
Of  Nature's  living  charms  the  {ketch  to  give, 
Till  {kill'd  her  feparate  features  to  defign 
You  know  each  mufcle's  fite,  and  how  they  join. 


LVIH.          OH*  bene  Ca2pit>  uti  fa<fli  jani  fertur  habere 

Pi*5lor  Tyro. 

Dimidium;  Pi<fturam  ita  nil  fub  limine  primo 
Ingrediens,  puer  offendit  damnofius  arti, 
Quam  varia  .error um  genera,  ignorante  magiftro, 
Ex  pravis  libare  Typisy  mentemque  veneno 
Inficere,  in  toto  quod  non  abftergitur  aevo. 

Nee  graphidos  rudis  artis  adhuc  cito  qualiacu-nque 
Corpora  viva  fuper  fludium  meditabitur,  ante 
Jllorum  quam  fymmetriarrij  intornodia,  formam 


[    49    ] 

Thefe  while  beneath  fome  Matter's  eye  you  trace, 
Vers'd  in  the  lore  of  fymmetry  and  grace, 
Boldly  proceed,   his  precepts  fhall  impart 
Each  fweet  deception  of  the  pleafing  art ; 
Still  more  than  precept  fhall  his  pradlice  teach,  595 
And  add  what  felf-refle&ion  ne'er  can  reach. 

Oft  when  alone  the  ftudious  hour  employ  LIX. 

On  what  may  aid  your  art,  and  what  deftroy : 


mutt  be 


Diveriity  of  parts  is  fure  to  pleafe,  Lx. 

Diverfity  and 

If  all  the  various  parts  unite  with  eafe;  6oo|3ng.are 

As  fiirely  charms  that  voluntary  ftyle, 

Which  carelefs  plays  and  feems  to  mock  at  toil  : 

For  labor  'd  lines  with  cold  exadlnefs  tire, 

'Tis  Freedom  only  gives  the  for"ce  and  fire 


Noverit,  infpe&is,  dodlo  evolvente  magiftro,  430 

Archetypis,  dulcefque  dolos  prasfenferit  artis. 

Plufque  manu  ante  oculos  quam  voce  docebitur  ufus.  LJX 

..  Ars  debet  fer- 

Quaere  artern  qujecunque  juvant  ;  fuge  quseque  repugnant,  vire  Piaori. 

non   Pi<5tor 

Corpora  diverfae  naturse  junda  placebunt;  Arti- 

LX. 


Sic  ea  qux  facili  contempta  labore  videntur:  4^ocuios  recre- 

^•^-'ant  d!ve»fitas 

JEthereus  quippe  ignis  inert  6c  fpiritus  illis; 


ciatini  Ars  di- 
diur. 


C    50    ] 

Ethereal,  fhe,  with  Alchymy  divine,.  605 

Brightens  each  touch,   ennobles  ev'ry  line  ; 
Yet  Pains  and  Practice  only  can  beftow 
This  facile  power  of  hand,  whofe  liberal  flow 
With  grateful  fraud  its  own  exertions  veils  : 
He  beft  employs  his  Art  who  beft  conceals.       6icr 


The  oinai  to  °^^n^  fet  Tafte  with  Judgment  join'ct 

mutt  be  in  the       t         r  t      .       .      *  t  _ 

Head,  and  the  The  future  whole  infix  upon  thy  mind, 

Copy  on  the 

Be  there  each  line  in  truth  ideal  drawn, 

Or  e'er  a  ^colour  on  the  canvafs  dawn  ; 

Then  as  the  work  proceeds,  that  work  fubmit 

To  fight  mftinctive,  not  to  doubting  wit  ;        6  1  6 


eye  each  obvious  error  fwift  defcries, 

to  be  in  the 

Eyes.         Hold  then  the  compafs  only  in  the  eyes. 


Mente  diu  verfata,  rrranu  celeranda  repenti. 
Arfque  laborque  operis  grata  fie  fraude  latebit  : 
Maxima  deinde  erit  ars,  nihil  artis  ineiTe  videri. 


LXI.  ^ec  Prius  inducas  tabulae  pigmenta  colorum,  440 

Archetypusin 

mente,  Apo-  Expenfi  quam  figna  typi  ftabilita  nitcfcant, 

graphus  in 

Et  menti  praefens  operis  fit  pegma  futuri. 
LXII.          Praevaleat  fenfus  rationi,  quac  officit  arti 

Circinus   in 

Confpicuss^  inque  oculis  tantummodo  circinus 


[    5'    3 

Give  to  the  di&ates  of  the  Learn'd  refpedl, 
Nor  proudly  untaught  fentiments  reject, 
Severe  to  felf  alone ;   for  felf  is  blind, 
And  deems  each  merit  in  its  offspring  join'd : 
Such  fond  delufion  time  can  beft  remove, 
Concealing  for  a  while  the  child  we  love ; 
By  abfence  then  the  Eye  impartial  grown 
Will,  tho'  no  friend  affift,  each  error  own ; 
But  thefe  fubdued,  let  thy  determin'd  mind 
Veer  not  with  ev'ry  critic's  veering  wind, 
Or  e'er  fubmit  thy  Genius  to  the  rules 
Of  prating  fops,  or  felf-important  fools;          630 


LX1II. 

Pride  an  Ene- 


625 


Utere  dodlorum  monitis,  nee  fperne  fuperbus 
Difcere,  quse  de  te  fuerit  fententia  vulgi ; 
Eft  CSECUS  nam  quifque  fuis  in  rebus,  6c  expers 
Judicii,  prolemque  fuam  miratur  amatque. 
Aft  ubi  confilium  deerit  fapientis  amici, 
Id  tempus  dabit,  atque  mora  intermiffa  labori. 
Non  facilis  tamen  ad  nutus,  -&  inania  vulgi 
Di&a,  levis  mutabis  opus,  geniumque  relinques : 

G    2 


LXTII. 

Superbia  Pic- 
tori  nocet  plu- 
rinwm. 


45* 


[      52      J 

Enough  if  from  the  learn'd  applaufe  be  won  : 
Who  doat  on  random  praifes,  merit  none. 

^7  Nature's  fympathetic  Power,   we  fee, 
As  is  the  Parent,   fuch  the  Progeny  : 
Ev'n  Artifts,   bound  by.  her  inftin&ive  law,      63  5- 

In  all  their  works  their  own  refemblance  draw  : 

, 

Learn  then  "  to  know  thyfelf,"  that  precept  fage 

Shall  beft  allay  luxuriant  Fancy's  rage, 

Shall  point  how  far  indulgent  Genius  deigns 

To  aid  her  flight,  and  to  what  point  reftrains.  640 

But  as  the  blufhing  Fruits,   the  breathing  Flowers, 

Adorning  Flora's  and  Pomona's  bowers., 

When  forcing  fires  command  their  buds  to  fwell, 

Refufe  their  dulcet  tafte,  their  balmy  fmell  ; 

Nam  qui  parte  fua  fperat  bene  pofl'e  mereri 
Multivaga  de  plebe,  nocet  fibi,  nee  placet  ulli.. 
LXIV.          C  unique  opere  in  proprio  foleat  fe  pingere  pid:or,       45  ^ 

Nofce  teipAim 

(Prolem  adeo  fibi  ferre  parem  natura  fuevit) 


Proderit  imprimis  pidori  ^vu 
Ut  data  quae  genio  colat,  abflineatque  negatis. 
Fruftibus  utque  fuus  nunquam  efl  fapor,  atque  venuflas 
Floribus,  infueto  in  fundo,  prajcoce  fub  anni  460, 

Tempore,  quos  cultus  violentus  •&  ignis  adegiti 


[    53    ] 

So  Labor's  vain  extortion  ne'er  achieves  645 

That  grace  fupreme  which  willing  Genius  gives. 

Tims  tho1  to  pains  and  practice  much  we  owe, 

Tho'  thence  each  line  .obtains  its  eafy  flow*  do  e?fily  whatr 

J  you  have  coa- 

Yet  let  thofe  pains,   that  practice  ne'er  be  jofn'd, 
To  blunt  the  native  vigor  of  the  mind.  650 

When  fhines  the  Morn,  when  in  recruited  courie~,  L*VL. 

The  Morning 
i        r  •   '        n  i  i*         n  •         r  rao^  P'°Per: 

The  ipints  now,  devote  their  active  force  for  work. 

To  every  nicer  part  of  thy  defiign,. 

But  pafs  no  idle  day  without  a  line-:  .      Eve^plydo 

ibmething. 

And  wandering  oft  the  crouded  ftreets  along,  6  c  c    LXVUI. 

-^  The  Method 

The  native  geftures  of  the  pafling  throng 

fions. 

Attentive  mark,  for  many  a  cafual-  gracer 
Th'expreffive  lines  of  each  impaiiion'd  face 

Sic  nunquam,.  nimio  quae  funt  extorta  labore,, 
Et  pid;a  invito  genio,  nunquara  ilia  placebunt- 

Vera  fuper  meditando,   manus  labor  improbus  adfit  y         Quod 

^  _  .  j.  .  r  f     concers 

Nec  taaien  obtunaat  genium,  mentilque  vigorem.          405  Manu  com- 

proba. 

Optima  nofirorum  pars  matutina  dier-um.  „  LXVI. 

Matutinum 
__.„.,.»  ...  .  .  111-  Tempus  La- 

Dimcili  hanc  leitur  notiorem  impsnde  labon.  bori  aptum. 

LXVII. 
Nulla  dies  abeat,  quin  linea  duda  fuperfit  :  bS^uSfa 

Perque  vias,  vultus  hominum,  motufque  notaBis  LXVIII. 

inob- 


Libertate  fua  proprios,  pofitafque  figuras  47°^sati&Datu* 

G  3 


Book. 


[    54    ] 

That  bears  its  joys  or  forrows  undifguis'd, 
May  by  obfervant  Tafte  be  there  furpriz'd.       660 
Thus,  true  to  Art,  and  zealous  to  excel 
Ponder  on  Nature's  powers,  and  weigh  them  well; 
Explore  thro'  earth  and  heaven,  thro'  fea  and  ftdes, 
The  accidental  graces  as  they  rife; 

of  J;*!*ye  And  while  each  prefent  form  the  Fancy  warms,  665 
Swift  an  thy  tablets  fix  its  fleeting  charms. 

To  Temperance  all  our  livelieft  Powers  we  owe, 
She  bids  the  Judgment  wake,   the  Fancy  flow ; 
For  her  the  Artift  fhuns  the  fuming  feaft, 
The  Midnight  roar,   the  Bacchanalian  gueft,    670 
And  feeks  thofe  fofter  opiates  of  the  foul, 
The  focial  circle,  the  diluted  bowl ; 


Ex  fefe  faciles,  ut  inohfervatus,  habebis. 
Nondefin'tpu-^ox  quodcumque  mari,  terris,  &  in  ae're  pulchrum, 

gillares. 

ContigtTit,  chartis  propera  mandare  paratis, 
Dum  praefens  animo  Ipecies  tibi  fervet  hianti. 

Non  epulis  nimis  indulget  Pi&ura,  meroque  475 

Parcit :  Amicorum  nifi  cum  fermone  benigno 
Exhauflam  reparet  mentem  recreata;  fed  injde 


[    55    ] 

Crown'd  with  the  Freedom  of  a  fmgle  life,, 
He  flies  domeftic  din,  litigious  ftrife  ; 
Abhors  the  noify  haunts  of  buftling  trade,        675 
And  fteals  ferene  to  folitude  and  fhade  ; 
There  calmly  feated  in  his  village  bower, 
He  gives  to  nobleft  themes  the  ftudious  hour, 
While  Genius,  Practice,  Contemplation  join 
To  warm  his  foul  with  energy  divine  :  680 

For  paltry  gold  let  pining  Mifers  figh, 
His  foul  invokes  a  nobler  Deity  ; 
Smit  with  the  glorious  Avarice  of  Fame, 
He  claims  no  lefs  than  an  immortal  name  : 


&  curis,  in  coelibe  libera  vita, 
Seceflus  procul  a  turba,  ftrepituque  remotosr 
Villarum,  rurifque  beata  filentia  quasrit  :  480 

Namque  recolledor  tota  incumbente  Minerva, 
Ingenio,  rerum  fpecies  praefentior  extat; 
Commodiufque  operis  compagem  ampledlitur  omnem. 

Infami  tibi  non  potior  fit  avara  peculi 

Cura,  aurique  fames,  modica  quam  forte  beato,  485 

Nominis  aeterni,  &  laudis  pruritus  habends, 
Condignse  pulchrorum  operum  mercedis  in  asvum, 


[    56    ] 

Hence  on  his  Fancy  juft  Conception  (nines,     685 
True  Judgment  guides  his  hand,  true  Tafte  refines; 
Hence  ceafelefs  toil,  xievotion  to  his  art, 
A  docile  temper,  and  a  generous  heart ; 
Docile,  his  fage  Preceptor  to  obey, 
Generous,   his  aid  with  gratitude  to  pay,  690 

Bleft  with  the  bloom  of  youth,  the  nerves  of  health. 
And  competence  a  better  boon  than  wealth. 

Great  Bleffings  thefe !  yet  will  not  thefe  empower 
His  Tints  to  charm  at  every  labouring  hour : 
All  have  their  brilliant  moments,  when  alone  695 
They  paint  as  if  fome  ftar  propitious  fhone. 
Yet  then,  ev'n  then,  the  hand  but  ill  conveys 
The  bolder  grace  that  in  the  Fancy  plays : 


Judicium,  docile  ingenium,  cor  nobile,  fenfus 

Sublimes,  firmum  corpus,  florenfque  juventa, 

Comnroda  res,  labor,  artis  arnor,  do&ufque  magifterj   490 

Et  quamcumque  voles  occafio  porrigat  aniam, 

Ni  genius  quidam  adfuerit,   fydufque  benignum, 

Dotibus  his  tantis,  nee  adhuc  ars  tanta  paratur. 

Diftat  ab  Lngenio  longe  manus.     Optima  do<ftis 


t    57    ] 

Hence,  candid  Critics,  this  fad  Truth  confeft, 
Accept  what  leaft  is  bad,   and  deem  it  beft  ;    700 
Lament  the  foul  in  Error's  thraldom  held, 
Compare  Life's  fpan  with  Art's  extenfive  field, 
Know  that,   ere  perfect  Tafte  matures  the  mind, 
Or  perfect  practice  to  that  Tafte  be  join'd, 
Comes  age,  comes  ficknefs,  comes  contracting  pain, 
And  chills  the  warmth  of  youth  in  every  vein. 
Rife  then,  ye  youths !  while  yet  that  warmth 

infpires, 

While  yet  nor  years  impair,  nor  labour  tires, 
While  health,  while  ftrength  are  yours,    while  that 

mild  ray, 
Which  fhone  aufpicious  on  your  natal  day,       710 

Cenfentur,  quae  prava  minus ;  latet  omnibus  error ;         495 
Vitaque  tarn  longae  brevior  non  fufficit  arti. 
Delinimus  nam  pofle  fenes,  cum  fcire  periti 
Incipimus,  doftamque  manum  gravat  aegra  fene&us ; 
Nee  gelidis  fervet  juvenilis  in  artubus  ardor. 

Quare  agite,   O  juvenes,  placido  quos  fydere  natos      500 
Paciferae  fludia  alle&ant  tranquilla  Minervae; 

H 


[    58    ] 

Conducts  you  to  Minerva's  peaceful  Quire, 
Sons  of  her  choice,  and  fharers  of  her  fire, 
Rife  at  the  call  of  Art :   expand  your  breaft, 
Capacious  to  receive  the  mighty  gueft,. 
While,   free  from  prejudice,  your  active  eye 
Preferves  its  firft  unfullied  purity  ;  716 

While  new  to  Beauty's  charms,   your  eager  foul 
Drinks  copious  draughts  of  the  delicious  whole, 
And  Memory  on  her  foft,  yet  lafting  page, 
Stamps  the  frefli  image  which  fhall  charm  thro' 

age.  720 

LXX.         When  duly  taught  each  Geometric  rule, 

The  Method  J  S 

young  Pain- Approach  with  awful  ftep  the  Grecian  fchool, 


ter. 


Quofque  fuo  fovet  igne,  fibique  optavit  alumnos ! 
Eja  agite,  atque  animis  ingentem  ingentibus  artem 
Exercete  alacres,  dum  ftrenua  corda  juventus 
Viribus  exftimulat  vegetis,  patienfque  laborum  eft  ;        505 
Dum  vacua  errorum,  nulloque  imbuta  fapore 
Pura  nitet  mens,  &  rerum  fitibunda  novarum, 
Prasfentes  haurit  fpecies,  atque  humida  fervat ! 
OrdoStodio-      ^n  Geometrali  prius  arte  parumper  adulti 

Signa  antiqua  fuper  Graiorum  addifcite  formam ;  510 


rum. 


[    59    ] 

The  fculptur'd  reliques  of  her  fkill  furvey, 
Mufe  on  by  night,  and  imitate  by  day ; 
No  reft,  no  paufe  till,  all  her  graces  known,   725 
A  happy  habit  makes  each  grace  your  own. 

As  years  advance,  to  modem  mafters  come, 
Gaze  on  their  glories  in  majeftic  ROME  ; 
Admire  the  proud  productions  of  their  fkill 
Which  VENICE,  PARMA,  and  BOLOGNA  fill ;     730 
And,  rightly  led  by  our  preceptive  lore, 
Their  ftyle,  their  coloring,  part  by  part,  explore. 
See  RAPHAEL  there  his  forms  celeftial  trace, 
Unrivall'd  Sovereign  of  the  realms  of  Grace. 

Nee  mora,  nee  requies,  noctuque  diuque  labor!, 
Jlloruin  menti  atque  modo,  vos  donee  agendi 
Praxis  ab  affiduo  faciles  aflueverit  ufu. 

Mox,  ubi  judicium  emends  adoleverit  annis, 
Singula,  quae  celebrant  primae  exemplaria  clam's  515 

Romani,  Veneti,  Parmenfes,  atque  Bononi, 
Partibus  in  cundtis  pedetentim,  atque  ordine  redto, 
Ut  monitum  fupra  eft,  vos  expendifle  juvabit. 

Hos  apud  invenit  Raphael  miracula  fummo 
Du&a  modo,  Venerefque  habuit  quas  nemo  deinceps.     520 

H    2 


. 
See  ANGELO,  with  energy  divine,  735 

Seize  on  the  fummit  of  correct  defign. 
Learn  how,  at  JULIO'S  birth,  the  Mufes  fmil'd, 
And  in  their  myftic  caverns  nurs'd  the  child, 
How,   by  th'  Aonian  powers  their  fmile  beftow'd, 
His  pencil  with  poetic  fervor  glow'd  ;  740 

When  faintly  verfe  Apollo's  charms  convey'd, 
He  oped  the  fhrine,   and  all  the  God  difplay'd  : 
His  triumphs  more  than  mortal  pomp  adorns, 
With  more  than  mortal  rage  his  Battle  burns, 
His  Heroes,   happy  Heirs  of  fav'ring  fame,        74.5 
More  from  his  art  than  from  their  aclions  claim. 


Quidquid  erat  formae  fcivit  Eonarota  potenter. 

'Julius  a  puero  mufarum  edu&us  in  antris, 
Aonias  referavit  opes,  graphicaque  poefi, 
Quae  non  vifa  prius,  fed  tantum  audita  poetis, 
Ante  oculos  fpecftanda  dedit  facraria  Phosbi; 
Quacque  coronatis  complevit  bella  triumphis 
Heroum  fortuna  potens,  cafufque  decoros, 
Nobilius  re  ipsa  antiqua  pinxifTe  videtur. 


C  61  j 

Bright,  beyond  all  the  reft,  CORREGGIO  flings 
His  ample  Lights,  and  round  them  gently  brings 
The  mingling  fliade.     In  all  his  works  we  view 
Grandeur  of  ftyle,  and  chaftity  of  hue.  750 

Yet  higher  ftill  great  TITIAN  dar'd  to  foar, 
He  reach'd  the  loftieft  heights  of  coloring's  power  ;, 
His  friendly  tints  in  happieft  mixture  flow, 
His  fliades  and  lights  their  juft  gradations  know,. 
He  knew  thofe  dear  deluflons  of  the  art,          75,5 
That  round,   relieve,  infpirit  ev'ry  part  ^ 
Hence  deem'd  divine,  the  world  his  merit  own'd, 
With  riches  loaded,   and  with  honors  crown'd* 


Clarior  ante  alios  Corregius  extitit,  ampfa 
Luce  fuperfufa,  circum  coeuntibus   umbris,  530 

Pingendique  modo  grandi,  &  tra&ando  colore 
Corpora.     Amicitiamque,  gradufque,  dolofque  colorum, 
Compagemque  ita  difpofuit  <Tttiamisy  ut  inde 
DJVUS  fit  didus,  magnis  et  honoribus  au&us,. 

H  3 


C  62  ] 

from  all  their  charms  combin'd,  with  happy- 
toil, 

Did  ANNIBAL  compofe  his  wond'rous  ftyle  :      760 
O'er  the  fair  fraud  fo  clofe  a  veil  is  thrown, 
That  every  borrowed  Grace  becomes  his  own. 
EXXI.         if  then  to  praife  like  theirs  your  fouls  afpire, 

Nature  and  * 

PeXrfeeaArt.   Catch  from  their  works  a  portion  of  their  fire ; 

Revolve  their  labors  all,  for  all  will  teach,       765 
Their  finifti'd  Picture,  and  their  flighteft  fketch. 
Yet  more  than  thefe  to  Meditation's  eyes 
Great  Nature's  felf  redundantly  fupplies : 
Her  prefence,   beft  of  Models  !  is  the  fource 
Whence  Genius  draws  augmented  power  and  force; 
Her  precepts,  beft  of  Teachers !  give  the  powers, 
Whence  Art,  by  pra&ice,   to  perfection  foars. 

Fortimaeque  bonis :  Qups  fedulus  Hannibal  omnes  535 

In  propriam  mentem,  atque  modum  mira  arte  coegit. 
LXXI.         Plurimus  inde  labor  tabulas  imitandojuvabit 

Natura  &  Ex- 

perieotia  Ar-  Egrcgias,  operumque  typos ;  fed  plura  docebit 

Natura  ante  oculos  prasiens ;  nam  firmat  &  auget 

Vim  genii,  ex  illaque  artem  experientia  complet.          540 

Malta  fuperfiko  qnce  commentaria  dicent. 


[    63    J 

THefe  ufeful  rules  from  time  and  chance  to  fave, 
In  Latian  Strains,   the  ftudious  FRESNOY  gave; 
On  Tiber's  peaceful  banks  the  Poet  lay,  775 

What  time  the  Pride  of  Bourbon  urg'd  his  way, 
Thro'  hoftile  camps,  and  crimfon  fields  of  (lain, 
To  vindicate  his  Race  and  vanquiili  Spain ; 
High  on  the  Alps  he  took  his  warrior  ftand, 
And  thence,  in  ardent  volley  from  his  hand     780 
His  thunder  darted  ;   (fo  the  Flatterer  fings 
In  Jlrams  beft  fiated  to  the  Ear  of  Kings) 


Hasc  ego,  dum  memoror  fubitura  volubilis  £evi 
Cundla  vices,  variifque  olim  peritura  minis, 
Pauca -fophifmata  fum  graphica  immortalibus  aufus 
Credere  pieriis,  Roma3  meditatus  :  ad  Alpes,  -  545 

Dum  fuper  infanas  moles,  inimicaque  caftra 
Borbonidum  decus  6c  vindex  Lodoicus  avorum, 
Fulminat  ardenti  dextra,  patrireque  refurgens 


f  64  ] 

And  like  ALCIDES,  with  vindidive  tread, 
Crufh'd  the  Hifpanian  Lion's  gafping  head. 

But  mark  the  Proteus-policy  of  fiat  e  :  785 

Now,  'while  his  courtly  numbers  I  tranflate, 
The  foes  are  friends,  in  focial  league  they  dare 
On  Britain  to  "  let  flip  the  Dogs  of  War" 
Vain  efforts  all,  which  in  dif grace  Jhall  end, 
If  Britain,  truly  to  herfelf  a  friend,  790 

Thro  all  her  realms  bids  civil  difcord  ceafe, 
And  heals  her  Empire  s  wounds  by  Arts  of  Peace. 
Roufe,   then,  fair  Freedom  !  fa/i  that  holy  flame 
from  whence  thy  Sons  their  dearefl  blejjings  claim  \ 
Still  bid  them  feel  that  fcorn  of  lawlefs  fway,     795 
Which  Inter efl  cannot  blind,  nor  Power  difmay : 
So  Jhall  the  Throne,  thou  gavfl  the  BRUNSWICK  line, 
Long  by  that  race  adorn  d,  thy  dread  Palladium  Jhine. 

THE      END. 

.'Gallicus  Alcides  premit  Hifpa^i  ora  Leonis. 

FINIS. 


NOTE    S 


O    N.      T    H    £ 


ART    of   PAINTING. 


The  few  Notes  which  the  Translator  has  in- 
ferted,  and  which  are  marked  M.  are  merely  critical, 
and  relate  only  to  the  Author's  Text  or  his  own 
Verfion. 


NOTES 

O  N    T  H  E 

ART      OF     PAINTING. 


N  O  T  E  I.     VERSE  r. 
Two  Sifter  Mufes,  'with  alternate  Jire,  &c. 

MDU  PILES  opens  his  annotations  here,  with  much 
•  learned  quotation  from  Tertullian,  Cicero,,  Ovid,  and 
Suidas,  in  order  to  fhew  the  affinity  between  the  two  Arts. 
But  it  may  perhaps  be  more  pertinent  to  fubftitute  in  the 
place  of  it  all  a  iingle  paffage,  by  Plutarch  afcribed  to  Si- 
monides,  and  which  our  Author,  after  having  quoted  Horace, 
has  literally  tranflated,  'Zuygotylav  «m/  $©EITOMENHN  T>?X 
rioiwiv,  TToltjaiv  tPe  XITOXAN  TYIV  ^uygafiav.  There  is  a  Latin 
line  fomewhere  to  the  fame  purpofe,  but  I  know  not  whether 
antient  or  modern. 

Pbema 
Eft  Pictura  loquens,  mutum  Pidlura  Pbema.     M. 

NOTE  II.     VERSE  33. 

Such  powers,  fuel  praifes,  heavn-born  pair,  belong 
To  magic  colouring,  and  perfuajive  fong. 
That  is  to  fay,  they  belong  intrinfically  and  of  right.     Mr. 
Wills,  in  the  preface  to  his  verfion  of  our  Poet,  firft  detected 
the  falfe  tranflations  of  Du  Piles  and  Dryden,  which  fay,  "  fo 

I  2  much 


(68  NOTE        S, 

much  have  thefe  Divine  Arts  been  honored;"  in  confequence 
>of  which  the  Frenchman  gives  us  a  note  of  four  pages,  enu- 
merating the  inftances  in  which  Painting  and  its  profeflbrs 
have  been  honored  by  kings  and  great  men,  antient  and  mo- 
dern. Frefnoy  had  not  this  in  ;his  idea :  He  fays,  "  tantus  Ineft 
divis  honor  artibus  atque  poteftas,"  which  Wills  juftly  and 
literally  tranflates, 

Such  powers,  fuch  honors  are  in  arts  divine.  M. 

NOTE  III.     VERSE  51. 
'*27j  Paintings  Jirft  chief  bufinefs  to  explore, 
What  lovelier  forms  in  nature  s  boundlefs  jlore, 
Are  befl  to  art  and  antient  tafte  allied t 
For  antient  tajie  thofe  forms  has  befl  applied. 

The  Poet,  with  great  propriety,  begins,  by  declaring  what 
is  the  Jirft  chief  bufinefs  of  Theory,  and  pronounces  it  to  be  a 
knowledge  of  what  is  beautiful  in  nature  : 

That  form  alone,  where  glows  peculiar  grace, 
The  genuine  Painter  condefcends  to  trace,     ver.  9. 
There  is  an  abfolute  neceffity  for  the  Painter  to  generalize  his 
notions  -y    to  paint  particulars  is  not  to  paint  nature,  it  is  only 
to  paint  circumflances.    When  the  Artift  has  conceived  in  his 
imagination  the  image  of  perfect  beauty,  or  the  abftraft  idea 
of  forms,  he  may  be  ,faid  to  be  admitted  into  the  great  Council 
of  .Nature,  and  to 

"  Trace  Beauty's  beam  to  its  eternal  fpring, 
"  And  pure  to  man  the  fire  celeftial  bring."     ver.  19. 
To  facilitate  the  acquifition  of  this  ideal  beauty,  the  Artift  is 
recommended  to  a  ftudious  examination  of  antient  Sculpture. 

R. 

NOTE 


NOTES.  69 

NOTE  IV.     VERSE  55. 

27/7  this  be  learned,  how  all  things  dijagree, 

How  all  one  wretched,  blind  barbarity  ! 

The  mind  is  diftradted  with  the  variety  of  accidents,  for  fo 
they  ought  to  be  called  rather  than  forms;  and  the  difagree- 
ment  of  thofe  among  themfelves  will  be  a  perpetual  fource 
of  confufion  and  meannefs,  until,  by  generalizing  his  ideas,  he 
has  acquired  the  only  true  criterion  of  judgment;  then  with 
a  Mafters  care 

Judge  of  his  art,  thro'  beauty's  realms  he  flies, 

Selects,  combines,  improves,  diverfifies.  ver.  76. 
It  is  better  that  he  mould  come  to  diverfify  on  particulars 
from  the  large  and  broad  idea  of  things,  than  vainly  attempt 
to  afcend  from  particulars  to  this  great  general  idea ;  for  to 
generalize  from  the  endlefs  and  vicious  variety  of  aftual  forms, 
requires  a  mind  of  wonderful  capacity;  it  is  perhaps  more  than 
any  one  mind  can  accomplish :  But  when  the  other,  and,  I 
think,  better  courfe  is  purfued,  the  Artifl  may  avail  himfelf 
of  the  united  powers  of  all  his  predeceiTors,  He  fets  out  with 
an  ample  inheritance,  and  avails  himfelf  of  the  felection  of 
ages.  R, 

NOTE  V.     VERSE  63, 

Of  all  'vain  Fools  with  Coxcomb  talents  curft. 
The  fententious  and  Horatian  line,  (fays  a  later  French 
Editor)  which,  in  the  original,  is  placed  to  the  fcore  of  the 
Antients,  to  give  it  greater  weight,  is  the  Author's  own.  I 
fufpedt,  however,  that  he  borrowed  the  thought  from  fome 
antient  profe  writer,  as  we  fee  he  borrowed  from  Plutarch 
before  at  the  opening  of  his  Poem.  M. 

I  7  NOTE 


70  NOTES. 

N  OTE  VI.  VERSE  64. 
When  Jirfl  the  orient  beams  of  Beauty  move. 
The  original  here  is  very  obfcure ;  when  I  had  tranflated 
the  paffage  in  the  cleared  manner  I  was  able,  but  neceffarily 
with  fome  periphrafis,  I  confulted  a  learned  friend  upon  it, 
who  was  pleafed  to  approve  the  verfion,  and  to  elucidate  the 
text  in  the  following  manner:  "  Cognita,"  (the  things  known) 
in  line  45,  refers  to  "  Noife  quid  in  natura  pulchrius,"  (the 
thing  to  be  learned)  in  line  38  j  the  main  thing  is  to  know  what 
forms  are  moft  beautiful,  and  to  know  what  forms  have  been 
chiefly  reputed  fuch  by  the  Antients.  In  thefe  when  once 
known,  i.  e.  attended  to  and  confidered,  the  mind  of  courfe 
takes  a  pleafure,  and  thus  the  conjciom  foul  becomes  enamoured 
with  the  object,  6cc.  as  in  the  Paraphafe.  M. 

NOTE  VII.     VERSE  78. 
With  nimble  Jlep  purfues  the  fleeting  throng. 
And  clafps  each  Venus  as  fie  glides  along. 
The  power  of  expreffing  thefe  tranfitory  beauties  is  perhaps 
the  greatefl:  effort  of  our  art,  and  which  cannot  be  attained  to 
till  the  Student  has  acquired  a  facility  of  drawing  nature  cor- 
redly  in  its  inanimate  ftate.  R. 

NOTE  VIII.     VERSE  80. 
Tet  fome  there  are  ivho  indifcreetly  Jlrayy 
Where  purblind  praffiice  only  points  the  way. 
Practice  is  juftly  called  purblind,  for  practice,   that  is  to- 
lerable in  its  way,  is  not  totally  blind  :  an  imperceptible  theory, 
which  grows  out  of,  accompanies,   and  directs   it,   is  never 
wholly  wanting  to  a  fedulous  practice;   but  this  goes   but  a 
little  way  with  the  Painter  himfelf,  and  is  utterly  inexplicable 
to  others. 

To 


NOTES.  71 

To  become  a  great  proficient,  an  Artift  ought  to  fee  clearly 
enough  to  enable  him  to  point  out  to  others  the  principle  on 
which  he  works,  otherwife  he  will  be  confined,  and  what  is 
worfe,  he  will  be  uncertain.  A  degree  of  mechanical  practice, 
odd  as  it  may  feem,  mutt  precede  theory :  The  reafon  is,  that 
if  we  wait  till  we  are  partly  able  to  comprehend  the  theory  of 
art,  too  much  of  life  will  be  pafled  to  permit  us  to  acquire 
facility  and  power  :  fomething  therefore  mull  be  done  on  truft, 
by  mere  imitation  of  given  patterns  before  the  theory  of  art 
can  be  felt.  Thus  we  fhall  become  acquainted  with  the  ne- 
ceflities  of  the  art,  and  the  very  great  want  of  Theory,  the  fenfe 
of  which  want  can  alone  lead  us  to  take  pains  to  acquire  it : 
for  what  better  means  can  we  have  of  knowing  to  a  certainty, 
and  of  imprinting  ftrongly  on  our  mind  our  own  deficiencies, 
than  unfuccefsful  attempts  ?  This  Theory  will  be  beft  under- 
flood  by,  and  in,  Practice.  If  Practice  advances  too  far  before 
Theory,  her  guide,  (he  is  likely  to  lofe  her  way,  and  if  {he 
keeps  too  far  behind,  to  be  difcouraged.  R. 

NOTE  IX.     VERSE  89. 
"Tivas  not  by  'words  Apelles  charm  d  mankind. 
As  Frefnoy  has  condefcended  to  give  advice  of  a  prudential 
kind,  let  me  be  permitted  here  to  recommend  to  Artifts  to 
talk  as  little  as  pofllble  of  their  own  works,   much  lefs  to 
praife  them ;  and  this  not  fo  much  for  the  fake  of  avoiding 
the  character  of  vanity,  as  for  keeping  clear  of  a  real  detriment; 
of  a  real  productive  caufe  which  prevents  his  progrefs  in  his 
art,  and  dulls  the  edge  of  enterprize. 

He  who  has  the  habit  of  infinuating  his  own  excellence  to 

^the  little  circle  of  his  friends,   with  whom  he  comes  into 

contact,  will   grow  languid  in  his  exertions  to  fill  a  larger 

fphere  of  reputation  :  He  will  fall  into  the  habit  of  acquiefcing 

in 


72  NOTE        S. 

in  the  partial  opinions  of  a  few  ^  he  will  grow  reftive  in  his- 
own ;  by  admiring  himfelf,  he  will  come  to  repeat  himfelf, 
and  then  there  is  an  end  of  improvement.  In  a  Painter  it  is 
particularly  dangerous  to  be  too  good  a  fpeaker,  it  leflens  the 
neceflary  endeavours  to  make  himfelf  mafter  of  the  language 
which  properly  belongs  to  his  art,,  that  of  his  pencil.  This 
circle  of  felf-applaufe  and  reflected  admiration,  is  to  him  the 
world,  which  he  vainly  imagines  he  has  engaged  in  his  party, 
and  that  further  enterprize  becomes  lefs  neceflary. 

Neither  is  it  prudent  for  the  fame  reafon  to  talk  much  of  a 
work  before  he  undertakes  it,  which  will  probably  thus  be 
prevented  from  being  ever  begun.  Even  mewing  a  pidure  in 
an  unfinifhed  ftate,  makes  the  finifliing  afterwards  irkfomej, 
the  artift  has  already  had  the  gratification  which  he  ought  to 
have  kept  back,  and  made  to  ferve  as  a  fpur  to  haften  its  com- 
pletion. R.. 

NOTE  X.     VERSE  ioo< 
Some  lofty  theme  Jet  judgment  jirjl  fupply,, 
Supremely  fraught  'witb  grace  and  majefty. 
It  is  a  matter  of  great  judgment  to  know  what  fubjecls  are 
or  are  not  fit  for  painting.    It  is  true  that  they  ought  to  be 
fuch  as  the  verfes  here  direct,   full  of  grace  and  majeftyj   but; 
it  is  not  every,  fuch  fubj eel.  that  will  anfwer  to  the  Painter. 
The  Painter's  theme  is  generally  fupplied  by  the  Poet  or  Hi- 
ftorian  :  But  as  the  Painter  fpeaks  to  the  eye,  a  flory  in  which 
fine  feeling  and  curious  fentiment  is  predominant,  rather  than 
palpable  fituation,  grofs  interefr,   and  diftind:  paffion,  is  not 
fo  proper. 

It  mould  be  likewife  a  ftory  generally  known  ;  for  the  Pain- 
ter, reprefenting  one  point  of  time  only,  cannot  inform  the 
Spectator  what  preceded  that  event,  however  neceflary  in  order 
to  judge  of  the  propriety  and  truth  of  the  cxpreflion  and  cha- 

rafteir 


NOTES.  73 

raster  of  the  Actor.  It  may  be  remarked  that  action  is  the  prin- 
cipal requifite  to  a  fubject  for  Hiflory- pain  ting,  and  that  there 
are  many  fubjedts  which,  tho'  very  interefting  to  the  reader, 
would  make  no  figure  in  reprefentation ;  thefe  are  fuch  as 
confift  in  any  long  feries  of  action,  the  parts  of  which  have 
very  much  dependency  each  on  the  other ;  they  are  fuch  where 
any  remarkable  point  or  turn  of  verbal  expreffion  makes  a 
part  of  the  excellence  of  the  ftory;  or  where  it  has  its  effect 
from  allufion  to  circumftances  not  actually  prefent :  an  inftance 
occurs  to  me  of  a  fubject  which  was  recommended  to  a  Painter 
by  a  very  diftinguimed  perfon,  but  who,  as  it  appears,  was 
but  little  converfant .with  the  art;  it  was  what  palled  between 
James  II.  and  the  Duke  of  Bedford  in  the  Council  which 
was  held  juft  before  the  Revolution.  This  is  a  very  ftriking 
piece  of  hiftory;  but  it  is  fo  far  from  being  a  proper  fubject, 
that  it  unluckily  pofTefTes  no  one  requifite  necefTary  for  a  pic- 
ture; it  has  a  retrofpedt  to  other  circumftances  of  hiftory  of  a 
very  complicated  nature ;  it  marks  no  general  or  intelligible 
action  or  paflion ;  and  it  is  necefTarily  deficient  in  that  variety 
of  heads,  forms,  ages,  fexes,  and  draperies  which  fometimes, 
by  good  management,  fupply  by  picturefque  effect  the  want  of 
a  real  interefl  in  a  hiilory.  R. 

NOTE  XL     VERSE   106. 
'Then  let  the  virgin  canvas  fmooth  expand, 
To  claim  the  Jketch  and  tempt  the  Artift's  hand. 
I  wim  to  underftand  the  laft  line  as  recommending  to  the 
artift  to  paint  the  fketch  previoufly  on   canvas,  as  was  the 
practice  of  Rubens. 

This  method  of  painting  the  fketch,  inftead  of  merely  draw- 
ing it  on  paper,  will  give  a  facility  in  the  management  of 
colours,  and  in  the  handling,  which  the  Italian  Painters,  not 

K  having 


74  NOTES. 

having  this  cuftom,  wanted;  by  habit  he  will  acquire  equal 
readinefs  in  doing  two  things  at  a  time  as  in-doing  only  one;  a 
Painter,  as  I  have  faid  on  another  occafion,  if  poflible,  fhould 
paint  all  his  ftudies,  and  coniider  drawing  as  a  fuccedaneum 
\vhen  colours  are  not  at  hand.  This  was  the  praclice  of  the 
Venetian  Painters,  and  of  all  thofe  who  have  excelled,  in 
colouring;  Corregio  ufed  to  fay,  C'bavea  i  fuoi  diffegni  nella 
Ji  remit  a  de  Pennelli.  The,  method  of  Rubens  was  to  fketch 
his  compoii tion  in  colours>  with  all  the  parts  more  determined 
than  {ketches  generally  are ;  from  this  fketch  his  Scholars  ad- 
vanced the  picture  as  far  as  they  were  capable,  after  which  he 
retouched  the  whole  himfelf.. 

The  Painter's  operation  may  be  divided  into  three  parts ; 
the  planning,  which  implies  the  fketch  of  the  general  com- 
pofition;  the  transferring  that  defign.  on  the  canvas ;  and  the 
finifliing,  or  retouching  the  whole.  If,  for  difpatch,  the 
Artift  looks  out  for  affifbnce,  it  is  in  the  middle  only  he  can 
receive  it;  the  firft  and  laft  muft  be  the  work  of  his  own  hand: 

R, 

NOTE  XIL     VERSE  io& 
Then  bold  Invention  all  thy  powers,  diffuf?, 
Of  all  thy  Sifters  thou  the  nobleft  Mufi. 

The  Invention  of  a  Painter  confifts  not  in  inventing  the 
fubjecl,  but  in  a  capacity  of  forming  in  his  imagination  the 
iubjecl  in  a  manner  befl  accommodated  to  his  art,  tbo'  wholly 
borrowed  from  Poets,  Hiftorians,  or  popular  tradition  :  For 
this  purpofe  he  has  full  as  much  to  do,  and  perhaps  more, 
than  if  the  very  dory  was  invented;  for  he  is  bound  to  follow 
the  ideas  which  he  has  received,  and  to  tranflate  them  (if  I 
may  life  the  expreffion)  into  another  art.  In  this  tranflation 
the  Painter's  Invention  lies ;  he  muft  in  a  manner  new-caft  the 
whole,  and  model  it  in  his  own  imagination :  To  make  it  a 

Painter's 


NOTES.  75 

Painter's  nourishment  it  mutt  pafs  through  a  Painter's  mind. 
Having  received  an  idea  of  the  pathetic  and  grand  in  Intellect, 
he  has  next  to  coniider  how  to  make  it  correfpond  with  what 
is  touching  and  awful  to  the  Eye,  which  is  a  bufinefs  by  itfelf. 
But  here  begins  what  in  the  language  of  Painters  is  called  /«- 
mention,  which  includes  not  only  the  compoiition,  or  the  put- 
ting the  whole  together,  and  the  difpofition  of  every  individual 
part,  but  likewife  the  management  of  the  back-ground,  the 
effecT:  of  light  and  (hadow,  and  the  attitude  of  every  figure 
or  animal  that  is  introduced  or  makes  a  part  of  the  work. 

Compoiition,  which  is  the  principal  part  of  the  Invention  of 
a  Painter,  is  by  far  the  greateil  difficulty  he  has  to  encounter, 
every  man  that  can  paint  at  all,  can  execute  individual  parts ; 
but  to  keep  thofe  parts  in  due  fubordination  as  relative  to  a 
whole,  requires  a  comprehenfive  view  of  his  art  that  more 
itrongly  implies  genius  than,  perhaps,  any  other  quality  what- 
ever* R. 

NOTE   XIII.     VERSE   118. 
Vivid  and  faithful  to  the  hiftoric  page, 
Exprefs  the  cujioms,  manners,  forms,  and  age. 
Though  the  Painter  borrows  his  fubjedt,   he  confiders  his 
art  as  not  fubfervient  to  any  other,   his  bufinefs  is  fomething 
more  than  aflifting  the  Hiftorian  with  explanatory  figures;- as 
foon  as  he  takes  it  into  his  hands,   he  adds,  retrenches,  tran- 
fpofes,  and  moulds  it  anew,  till  it  is  made  fit  for  his  own  art; 
he  avails  himfelf  of  the  privileges  allowed 'to  Poets  and  Pain- 
ters,  and  dares  every  thing  to  accomplim  his  end  by  means 
correfpondent  to  that  end,  to  imprefs  the  Spectator  with  the 
fame  intereft  at  the  fight  of  his  reprefentation,  as   the  Poet 
has  contrived  to  do  the  Reader  by  hts  defcription ;   the  end  is 
the  fame,  though  the  means  are  and  muft  be  different.     Ideas 
intended  to  be  conveyed  to  the  mind  by  one  fenfe,  cannot 

K  2  always. 


76  NOTES. 

always,  with  equal  fuccefs,  be  conveyed  by  another,  our  author 
has  recommended  it  to  us  elfewhere  to  be  attentive 

"  On  what  may  aid  our  art,  and  what  deftroy.  ver.  598. 
Even  the  Hiftorian  takes  great  liberties  with  fadts,  in  order  to 
intereft  his  readers,  and  make  his  narration  more  delightful ; 
much  greater  right  has  the  Painter  to  do  this,  who  (tho'  his 
work  is  called  Hiftory-Painting)  gives  in  reality  a  poetical 
reprefentation  of  events.  R. 

NOTE   XIV.     VERSE   120. 

Nor  faint  confpicuous  on  the  foremoft  plain 

Whateer  is  falfe,  impertinent,  or  vain. 
This  precept,  fo  obvious  to  common  fenfe,  appears  fuper- 
fluous,  till  we  recoiled:  that  fome  of  the  greateft  Painters  have 
been  guilty  of  a  breach  of  it  j  for,  not  to  mention  Paul  Veronefe 
or  Rubens,  whofe  principles,  as  ornamental  Painters,  would 
allow  great  latitude  in  introducing  animals,  or  whatever  they 
might  think  neceflary,  to  contraft  or  make  the  compofition 
more  pidturefque,  we  can  no  longer  wonder  why  the  Poet  has 
thought  it  worth  fetting  a  guard  againft  it,  when  fuch  men  as 
Raffaelle  and  the  Caraches,  in  their  greateft  and  moft  ferious 
works,  have  introduced  on  the  foreground  mean  and  frivolous 
circumftances. 

Such  improprieties,  to  do  juftice  to  the  more  modern 
Painters,  are  feldom  found  in  their  works.  The  only  excufe 
that  can  be  made  for  thofe  great  Artifts,  is  their  living  in  an 
age  when  it  was  the  cuftom  to  mix  the  ludicrous  with  the 
ferious,  and  when  Poetry  as  well  as  Painting  gave  into  this, 
fafhion.  R. 


NOTE 


NOTES.  77 

NOTE  XV.     VERSE   124. 
nis  rare,  this  ardiiQUs  tajk  no  rules  can  teach. 
This  muft  be  meant  to  refer  to  Invention,  and  not  to  the 
precepts  immediately  preceding,  which  relating  only  to  the 
mechanical  difpofition  of  the 'work,  cannot  be  fuppofed  to  be 
out  of  the  reach  of  the  rules  of  art,   or  not  to   be  acquired 
but  by  the  afiiftance  of  fupernatural  power..  R. 

NOTE  XVI.     VERSE  127. 
Prometheus  ravijtid  from  the  Car  of  Day. 

After  the  lines  in  the  original  of  this  paflage,.  there  comes 
in  one  of  a  proverbial  caft,  taken  from  Horace  *  :  "  Non  uti 
Daedaliam  licet  omnibus  ire  Corinthum."  I  could  not  intro- 
duce a  verfion  of  this  with  any  grace  into  the  conclufion  of  the 
fentence ;  and  indeed  I  do  not  think  it  connects  well  in  the 
original.  It  certainly  conveys  no  truth  of  importance,  nor  adds 
much  to  what  went  before  it.  I  fuppofe,  therefore,  I  fhall  be 
pardoned  for  having  taken  no  notice  of  it  in  my  tranflation. 

Mr.  Ray,  in  his  Colle&ion  of  Englim  Proverbs,  brings  this 
of  Horace  as  a  parallel  to  a  ridiculous  Englim  one,  viz.  Every 
mans  nofe  will  not  make  a  Jhoeing-horn.  It  is  certain,  •>  were  a 
Proverb  here  introduced,  it  ought  to  be  of  Englim  growth  to 
fuit  an  Englim  tranflation  j  but  this,  alas !  *  would  not  fit  my 
purpofe,  and  Mr.  Ray  gives  us  no  other.  I  hold  myfelf, 
therefore,  excufeable  for  leaving  the  line  untranslated,  M. 


K  3;  NOTE 


'Horace's  line  runs  thus,  (Epiftle  17,  Book  I.  line  36:) 
Non  cuivis  Homini  contingit  adire  Corimhum. 


73  NOTES. 

NOTE  XVII.     VERSE   130. 
''Till  all  compleat  the  gradual  wonder  foont, 
And  vanqui/h'd  Nature  owrid  herfelf  outdone. 
In  drift  propriety,  the  Grecian  Statues  only  excel  Nature 
by  bringing  together  fuch  an  afiemblage  of  beautiful  parts  as 
Nature  was  never  known  to  beilow  on  one  object : 
For  earth-born  graces  fparingly  impart 
The  fymmetry  fupreme  of  perfect  art.    'ver.  68. 
It  mufl  be  remembered,  that   the  component  parts  of  the 
moft  perfect  Statue  never  can  excel  Nature.;  that  we  can  form 
no  idea  of  Beauty  beyond  her  .works  :  we  can  only  onake  this 
rare  affemblage ;   and  it  is  fo  rare,  that  if  we  are  to  give  the 
name  of  Monfler  to  what  is  uncommon,   we  might,   in  the 
words  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  call  it 

A  faultlefs  Monfler  which  the  world  ne'^er  faw.  R. 

NOTE  XVIII.    TERSE   144. 
Learn  then  from  Greece,  -ye  youths,  Proportions  law, 
Inform  d  by  her,   each  juft  pofition  draw. 
Du  Piles  has,   in  his  note  -on  this  pafTage,  given  the  mea- 
fures  of  a  human  body,  as  taken  by  Frefnoy  from  the  flatues 
of  the  antienta,  >which  are  here  tranfcribed. 

"  The  Antients  have  commonly  allowed  eight  heads  to  their 
Figures,  though  feme  of  them  have  but  feven;  but  we  ordiT 
nacily  divide  the  figures  into  ten  faces  *  -,  that  is  to  fay,  from 
the  crown  of  the  head  to  the  fole  of  the  foot,  in  the  following 
manner: 

*'  From  the  crown  of  the  head  to  the  forehead  is  the  third 
part  of  a  face. 

"  The  face  begins  at  the  root  of  the  lowed  hairs  which 
are  upon  the  forehead,  and  ends  at  the  bottom  of  the  chin. 

"  The 

«  This  depends  on  the  age  and  quality  of  the.perfons.  The  Apollo  and  Venus  of 
Medicis  have  more  than  ten  faces. 


NOTES.  79 

'*•  The  face  is  divided  into  three  proportionable  parts ;  the 
firft  contains  the  forehead,  the  fecond  the  nofe,  and  the  third 
the  mouth  and  the  chin;  from  the  chin  to  the  pit  betwixt 
the  collar-bones  are  two  lengths  of  a  nofe. 

"  From  the  pit  betwixt  the  collar-bones  to  the  bottom  of 
the  breaft,  one  face. 

*'  *  From  the  bottom  of  the  breads  to  the  navel,  one  face. 
"  "j-  From  the  navel  to  the  genitories,  one  face. 
"From  the.  genitories  to.  the  upper  part  of.  the  knee,  two 
faces. 

"'The  knee  contains  half  a  face. 

"From  the  lower  part  of  the  knee  to  the  ankle,  two  faces. 
"  From  the  ankle  to  the  fole  of  the  foot,  half  a  face. 
"A  many  when  his  arms  are  ftretched  out,   is,   from  the 
longeft  finger  of  his  right,  hand  to  the  longeil .  of  -  his  left,  as 
broad  as  he  is  long. 

"  From  one  fide  of  the  breafts  to  the  other,  two  faces. 
"  The  bone- of  the  arm,  called  Humerus,  is- the  length  of 
two  faces  from  the  {boulder  to  the  elbow. 

•'  From  the-  end  of  the  elbow  to  the  root  of  the  little  finger, 
the  bone  called  .Cubitus,  with  part  of  the  hand,  contains  two 
faces., 

"  From  the  box  of  the  moulder- blade  to  the  pit  betwixt 
the  collar-bones,  one  face. 

«'  If  you  would  be  fatisfied  in  the  meafures  of  breadth, 
from  the  extremity  of  one  finger  to  the  other,  fo  that  this 
breadth  mould  be  equal  to  the  length  of  the  body,  you  muffc 
obferve,  that  the  boxes  of  the  elbows  with  the  humerus^  and 

of 

*  The  Apollo  has  a  nofe  more. 

f,  The  Apollo  has  half  a  nofe  more;  and  the  upper  half  of  ihe  Venus  de  Media's  - 
is  to  the  lower  part  of  the  belly,  and  not  to  the  privy:parta. 


80  NOTES. 

of  the  humerus  with  the  moulder-blade,   bear  the  proportion 
©f  half  a  face  when  the  arms  are  ftretched  out. 

"  The  fole  of  the  foot  is  the  fixth  part  of  the  figure. 
t{  The  hand  is  the  length  of  a  face. 
"  The  thumb  contains  a  nofe. 

"  The  infide  of  the  arm,  from  the  place  where  the  mufcle 
difappears,  which  makes  the  breaft,  (called  the  Pectoral  Mufcle) 
to  the  middle  of  the  arm,,  four  nofes. 

"  From  the  middle  of  the  arm  to  the  beginning  of  the 
head,  five  nofes. 

"  The  longe/l  toe  is  a  nofe  long. 

"  The  two  utmoft  parts  of  the  teats,  and  the  pit  betwixt 
the  collar-bones  of  a  woman,  make  an  equilateral  triangle. 

"  For  the  breadth  of  the  limbs,  no  precife  meafures  can 
be  given,  becaufe  the  meafures  themfelves  are  changeable,  ac- 
cording to  the  quality  of  the  perfons,  and  according  to  the 
movement  of  the  mufcles."  Du  Piles. 

The  meafures  of  the  antient  flatues,  by  Audran,  appear  to 
be  the  mofl  ufeful,  as  they  are  accompanied  with  the  outline 
of  thofe  figures,  which  are  mofl  diftinguifhed  for  correftnefs. 

R. 

NOTE  XIX.     VERSE   150. 
But  chief  from  her  that  flowing  outline  take. 
The  French  Editor  *,  who  republimed  this  Poem  in  the  year 
I753»  (eighty-five  years  later  than  the  firft  edition  of  Du  Piles) 
remarks  here,    that  Noel  Coypel,  .(called.. Coypel  le  Pouffin) 
in  a  difcourfe  which  he  publimed  and  addrefled  to  the  French 
Academy  fays,  "  That  all  which  our  Author  Jias  delivered 
concerning  outlines  (Contours}  in  this  pailage,  does  not  ap- 
pear to  him  to  convey  any  precife  or  certain  rules.     He  adds 

that 

•  He  calls  himfdf,  in  the  Paris  Edition,  intitled,  "  L'Ecole  d'Uranie,"  LeSieur 
M.  D.  Q^  The  Abbe  De  Marfy's  Poem,  intitled,  Pulura>  is  annexed  to  Du  Frefnoy's, 
in -that  edition. 


NOTES.  81 

that  it  is  indeed  almoft  a  thing  impoffible  to  give  them,  parti- 
cularly in  what  regards  grace  and  elegance  of  outline.  Ana- 
tomy and  Proportion,  according  to  him,  may  enable  a  perfon 
to  defign  with  correctnefs,  but  cannot  give  that  noble  part 
of  the  art,  which  ought  to  be  attributed  to  the  mind  or  un- 
derftanding,  according  to  which  it  is  more  or  lefs  delicate."  I 
think  Frefnoy  has  hinted  the  very  fame  thing  more  than 
once;  and,  perhaps,  like  Coypel,  lays  too  great  a  ftrefs.on  the 
mental  faculty,  which  we  call  Strength  of  Genius ;  but  the 
confideration  of  this  does  not  come  within  the  province  which 
I  have  allotted  myfelf  in  thefe  critical  notes.  M. 

NOTE   XX.   VERSE  162. 
Xet  deem  noty  Tenths,  that  Perfpeffiive  can  give 
nofe  charms  complete,  6y  which  your  works  flail  live. 
The  tranflator  has  foftened,  if  not  changed,  the  text,  which 
boldly  pronounces  that  Perfpedive  cannot  be  depended  on  as 
a  certain  rule.     Frefnoy  was   not  aware  that  he  was  arguing 
from   the  abufe  of  the  Art   of  Perfpective,   the   bufmefs  of 
which  is  to  reprefent  objefts  as  they  appear  to  the  eye,  or  as 
they  are  delineated  on  a  tranfparent  plane  placed  between  the 
fpectator  and  the  object.     The   rules  of  Perfpective,   as  well 
as  all  other  rules,    may  be  injudiciouily  applied;   and  it  muffc 
be  acknowledged  that  a  mifapplication  of  them  is  but  too 
frequently  found  even  in  the  works  of  the  moft  coniiderable 
artifts :    It  is   not    uncommon   to  fee  a  figure    on   the  fore- 
ground reprefented  near  twice  the  fize  of  another  which  is 
fuppofed  to  be  removed  but  a  few  feet  behind  it ;   this,   tho' 
true  according  to  rule,  will  appear  monftrous.     This  error 
proceeds  from,  placing  the  point  of  diftance  too  near  the  point 
of  ii^ht,  by  which   means   the  diminution   of  objects   is   fo 
iudden,  as  to  appear  unnatural,  unlefs  you  ftand  fo  near  the 

L  picture 


82  NOTES, 

picture  as  the  point  of  diftance  requires,  which  would  be  too 
near  for  the  eye  to  comprehend  the  whole  picture ;  whereas, 
if  the  point  of  diflance  is  removed  fo  far  as  the  fpectator  may 
be  fuppofed  to  ftand  in  order  to  fee  commodioufly,  and  take 
within  his  view  the  whole,  the  figures  behind  would  then 
fuffer  under  no  fuch  violent  diminution.  Du  Piles,  in  his 
note  on  this  paf&ge,  endeavours  to  confirm  Frefnoy  in  his 
prejudice,  by  giving  an  inftance  which  proves,  as  he  imagines, 
the  uncertainty  of  the  art.  He  fuppofes  it  employed  to  de- 
lineate the  Trajan  Pillar,  the  figures  on  which,  being,  as  he 
fays,  larger  at  the  top  than  the  bottom,  would  counteract  the 
effects  of  perfpective.  The  folly  of  this  needs  no  comment. 
I  fhall  only  obferve,  by  the  by,  that  the  fact  is  not  true,  the 
figures  on  that  pillar  being  all  of  the  fame  di  mentions.  R., 

NOTE  XXI.  VERSE  162. 
Yet  deem  nott  Youths,  that  Perfpeffiive  can  give 
Tbofe  charms  complete,  by  which  your  works  jhall  live. 
I  plead  guilty  to  the  charge  in  the  preceding  note.  I  have 
tranilated  the  paffage,  as  if  the  text  had  been  ad  Comple- 
mentum  Graphidos,  inftead  of  auf,  and  confequently  might 
have  been  thus  conftrued :  "  Perfpective  cannot  be  faid  to  be 
"  a  fure  rule  or  guide  to  the  complete  knowledge  of  Paint- 
"  ing,  but  only  an  afnftance,  6tc."  This  J  did  to  make  the 
pofition  more  confonant  to  truth,  and  I  am  pleafed  to  find 
that  it  agrees  much  better  with  Sir  Joihua's  Annotations  than 
the  original  would  have  done.  Du  Piles,  in  the  former  part 
of  his  note,  (which  I  know  not  for  what  reafon  Mr.  Dryden 
omitted)  fays  thus :  "  It  is  not  in  order  to  reject  Perfpective, 
"  that  the  Author  fpeaks  thus ;  for  he  advifes  it  elfewhere  in 
"his  Poem*,  as  a  ftudy  abfolutely  neceflary.  Neverthelefs, 

"  I 

•  I  fuppofe  he  alludes  "to  the  jo9th  line. 

In  Georaetrali  prius  arte  parumper  adulti. 


NOTES.  83 

'*  I  own  this  paffage  is  not  quite  clear,  yet   it  was   not  my 

"fault  that  the  Author  did  not  make  it  more  intelligible; 

"  but  he  was  fo  much  offended  with  ;fome  perfons  who  knew 

"  nothing  of  Painting  in  general,  fave  only  the  part  of  Per- 

"  fpedtive,  in  which  they  made  the  whole  art  of  it  to  confifr, 

"  that  he  would  never  be  perfuaded  to  recal  the  expreflion, 

"  though  I  fully  convinced  him,  that  every  thing  thefe  people 

•"  faid  was  not  of  the  leaft  confequence."     Du  Piles  feems  to 

tell  this  tale  (fo  little  to  the  credit  of  his  friend's  judgment) 

merely  to  make  hirnfelf  of  confequence;  for  my  own  part,   I 

can  hardly  be  perfuaded  that  a  perfon  who  has  tranflated  a 

work  fo  inaccurately  as  Du  Piles  has  done  this,  "  did  it  under 

"  the  Author's  own  eye,   and  corrected  it  till  the  verfion  was 

*'  intirely  to  his  own  mind,"  which,  in  his  preface,  he  atferts 

ivas  the  cafe.  M. 

NOTE  XXII.  VERSE  174. 
Yet  to  each  fep'rate  form  adapt  with  care. 
Such  limbs,  fuch  robes,  fuch  attitude  and  air, 

As  beft  befit  the  head 

As  it  is  neceflary,  for  the  fake  of  variety,  that  figures  not 
only  of  different  ages,  but  of  different  forms  and  characters  be 
introduced  in  a  work  where  many  figures  are  required,  care 
mufr.  be  taken  that  thofe  different  characters  have  a  certain 
confonance  of  parts  amongft  themfelves,  fuch  as  is  generally 
found  in  nature;  a  fat  face,  for  inftance,  is  ufually  accompa- 
nied with  a  proportional  degree  of  corpulency  of  body ;  an 
aquiline  nofe  for  the  moil  part  belongs  to  a  thin  countenance, 
with  a  body  and  limbs  correfponding  to  it;  but  thofe  are 
obfervations  which  muft  occuf  to  every  body. 

Yet  there  are  others  that  are  not  fo  obvious,  and  thofe  who 
have  turned  their  thoughts  this  way,   may  form  a  probable 

L  2  conjecture 


84  .NOTES. 

conjecture  concerning  the  form  of  the  reft  of  the  figure  from 
a  part,  from  the  ringers,  or  from  a  fingle  feature  of  the  face ; 
for  inftance,  thofe  who  are  born  crook-backed  have  commonly 
a  peculiar  form  of  lips  and  expremon  in  their  mouth  that 
ilrongly  denotes  that  deformity.  EL 

NOTE  XXIII.     VERSE   178. 
Learn  aftion  from  the  dumb,  the  dumb  flail  teach 
How  happieft  to  fupply  the  want  of  fpeecb. 

Gefture  is  a  language  we  are  born  with,  and  is  the  mofc 
natural  way  of  exprefling  ourfelves  :  Painting  may  be  faid 
therefore  in  this  refpeft  to  have  the  fuperiority  over  Poetry. 

Yet  Frefnoy  certainly  means  here  perfons  either  born  dumb, 
or  who  are  become  fo  from  accident  or  violence.  And  the 
tranflator  has,  therefore,  rendered  his  meaning  juftly;  but 
perfons  who  are  born  dumb  are  commonly  deaf  alfo,  and  their 
geftures  are  ufually  extravagant  and  forced;  and  of  the  latter 
kind  examples  are  too  rare  to  furnifli  the  Painter  with  fuffi- 
cient  obfervation.  I  would  wilh  to  underftand  the  rule,  as 
dictating  to  him,  to  obferve  how  perfons,  with  naturally  good 
expreflive  features,  are  affected  in  their  looks  and  actions  by 
any  fight  or  fentiment  which  they  fee  or  hear,  and  to  copy 
the  geftures  which  they  then  filently  make  ufe  of;  but  he 
£hould  ever  take  thefe  leiTons  from  nature  only,  and  not 
imitate  her  at  fecond-hand-,  as  many  French  Painters  do,  who 
appear  to  take  their  ideas,  not  only  of  grace  and  dignity,  but 
of  emotion  and  pamon,  from  their  theatrical  heroes,  which 
is  imitating  an  imitation,  and  often,  a  faljfe  or  exaggerated 
imitation..  R, 

NOTE 


NOTES,  85 

NOTE  XXIV.     VERSE   180. 
Fair  in  the  front,  in  all  the  blaze  of  tight % 
The  Hero  of  thy  piece  Jhould  meet  the  fight. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  this  figure  fhould  be  laboured^ 
in  proportion  as  it  claims  the  attention  of  the  fpectator,  but 
there  is  no  neceflity  that  it  fhould  be  placed  in  the  middle  of 
the  picture,  or  receive  the  principal  light;  this  conduct,  if 
always  obferved,  would  reduce  the  art  of  .Competition  to  too 
great  a  uniformity. 

It  is  fufficient,  if  the  place  he  holds,  or  the  attention  "of 
the  other  figures  to  him,  denote  him  the  hero  of  the  piece. 

The  principal  figure  may  be  too  principal.  The  harmony 
of  compofition  requires  that  the  inferiour  characters  bear  fome 
proportion,  according  to  their  feveral  ftations,  to  the  hero  of 
the  work-. 

This  rule,  as  enforced  by  Frefnoy,  may  be  faid  more  pro- 
perly to  belong  to  the  art  in  its  infant  ftate,  or  the  firft  pre- 
cept given  to  young  ftudents ;  but  the  more  advanced  know 
that  fuch  an  apparent  artificial  difpofition  would  be  in  reality 
for  that  reafon  inartificial.  R.. 

NOTE  XXV.     VERSE   193. 
In  evry  Jigurd  group  the  judging  eye 
Demands  the  charms  of  contrariety. 

The  rule  of  contrafting  figures,  or  groups,  is  not  only  imi- 
verfally  known  and  adopted,  but  it  is  frequently  carried  to 
fuch  excefs*  that  our  Author  might,  perhaps,  with  more 
propriety  have  fixed  his  caution  on  the  other  fide,  and  recom- 
mended to  the  artifr,.  nqt  to  deftroy  the  grandeur  and  fimpli- 
oity  of  his  defign  by  violent  and  affected  contrafts. 

The  artlefs  uniformity  of  the  compofitions  of  the  old  Gothic 
Painters  is  far  preferable  to  this  falfe  refinement,  this  often- 

L  3  tatious 


£6  NOTES. 

tatious  difplay  of  academic  art.  A  greater  degree  of  contraft 
and  .variety  may  be  allowed  in  the  picturefque  or  ornamental 
flile;  but  we-mufl  not -forget  they  are  the  natural  enemies  of 
Simplicity,  and  confequently  of  the  grand  ftile,  and  deftroy 
-that  .folemn  majefty,  that  f oft  .repofe,  -which  Js  -produced  in  a 
great  meafure  by  regularity  and  uniformity. 

An  inftance  occurs  to  me  where  thofe  two  qualities  are  Ie- 
parately  exhibited  by  two  great  Painters,  Rubens  and  Titian; 
the  picture  jof  Rubens  is  in  the  Church  of  St.  Auguftine  at 
Antwerp;  the  fubject  (if  that  may  be  called  a  fubject  where 
no  ftory  is  reprefented)  is  the  .Virgin  and  infant. Chri ft,  placed 
-high  in  the  picture  on  a  pedeftal,  with  many  faints  about 
them,  and  as  many  below  them,  with  others  on  the  fteps,  to 
ferve  as  a  Jink  to  unite  the  upper  and  lower  part  of  the  picture. 

The  compofition  of  this  picture  is  perfect  in  its  kind;  the 
Artift  has  fhewn  the  greateft  fkill  in  difpofmg  and  contrafting 
more  than  .twenty  figures  without  confufion  and  without 
.crouding;  the  whole  appearing  as  much  animated  and  in 
.motion  as  it  is  pofllbles  where  nothing  is  to  be  done. 

The  picture  of  Titian,  which  we  would  oj)pofe  to  this,  is 
in  the  Church  of  : the  St.  'Frare  at  Venice.  The  peculiar 
character  of  this  piece  .is  Grandeur  and  Simplicity,  which 
proceed  in  a  great  meafure  from  the  regularity  of  the  com- 
pofition, two  of  the  principal  figures  being  reprefented  kneel- 
ing, directly  oppofite  to  each  other,  and  nearly  in  the  fame 
attitude,  this  is  what  few  Painters  would  have  had  ;the  cou- 
rage to  venture;  Rubens  would  certainly  have  .rejected  fo 
unpidturefque  a  mode  ..of  compofition,  had  it.  occurred  to  him. 

Both  thofe  pictures  are  equally  excellent  in  their  kind,  and 
may  be  faid  to  characterife  their  refpective  authors.  There  is 
a  buflle  and  animation  in  the  work  of  Rubens;  a  quiet,  folemn 
majefty  in  that  of  Titian.  The  excellence  of  .Rubens  is  the 

pidturefque 


NOTES.  87 

pidturefque  effects  which  he  produces.  The  fuperior  merit 
of  Titian  is  in  the  appearance  of  being  above  feeking  after  any 
fuch  artificial  excellence.  R, 

NO  TE-XXVI.     VERSE   218, 
ive  fiill  fhould  loft 


That-  folcmn  majejly,  that  foft  repofe, . 

Dear  ts  the  curious  eye,  and  only  found. 

Where  few  fair  objects  Jill  an  ample  ground. 
It  has  been  faid  to  be . Hannibal  CaracciY  opinion,  that  a 
perfect  compofition  ought  not  to  confift  of  more  than  twelve 
figures,  which  he  thought  enough  to  people  three  groups, 
and  that  more  would  deflroy  that  majefty  and  repofe  fo  necef- 
fury  to  the  grand,  ftile  of .  Painting.  R.. 

NOTE  XXVII.     VERSE   22 j. 

judgment  will  fo  the  f eve  rat  groups  unite, 
That  one  compared  whole  Jhall  meet  the  fight. 

Nothing,  fo  much  breaks  in  upon,  and  deftroys  this  com- 
padtnefs,  as  that  mode  of  compofition  which  cuts  in  the 
middle  the  figures  on  the -foreground,  tho*  it  was  frequently 
the  practice  of  the  greateft  Painters,  even  of  the  beft  age : 
Michael  An gelo  has  it  in  the  Crucifixion  of  St.  Peter;  Raf- 
faelle  in  the  Cartoon  of  the  Preaching  of  St.  Paul ;  and  Par- 
megiano  often  mewed  only  the  head  and  moulders  above  the 
bafe  of  the  picture :  However,  the  more  modern  Painters, 
notwithftanding  fuch  authorities,  cannot.be  accufed  of  having, 
fallen  into  this  error* 

But,  fuppofe  we  carry  the  reformation  ftill  farther,  and. 
not  fufFer  the  fides  of  the  picture  to  cut  off  any  part  of  the. 
figures,  the  compofition  would  certainly  be  more  round  and. 
compact  within  itfelf :  All  fubjeds,  it  is  true,  will  not  admit 

o£ 


88  NOTES. 

of  this ;  however  we  may  fafjely  recommend  it,  unlefs  the 
circumftances  are  very  particular,  and  fuch  as  are  certain  to 
.procure  fome ilriking  effect  by  the  breach  of  fo  juft  a  rule. 

R. 

NOTE  XXVIII.     VERSE  243. 
Nor  yet  to  Nature  fuch  Jlritf  homage  pay, 
As  not  to  quit  'when  Genius  leads  the  way; 
tNor  yet,   though  Genius  all  his  fuccour  fends, 
Her  mimic  powrs  though  ready  Memory  lends, 
Prefume  from  Nature  wholly  to  depart ; 
For  Nature  is  the  Arbitrefs  of  Art. 

Nothing  in  the  art  requires  more  attention  and  judgment, 
or  more  of  that  power  of  discrimination,  which  may  not  im- 
properly be  called  Genius,  than  the  'fleering  between  general 
ideas  and  individuality ;  for  tho'  the  body  of  the  work  muft 
certainly  be  compofed  by  the  iirft,  in  order  to  communicate  a 
character  of  grandeur  to  the  whole ;  yet  a  dam  of  the  latter  is 
fometimes  neceffary  to  give  an  intereft.  An  individual  model, 
copied  with  fcrupulous  exactnefs,  makes  a  mean  ftile  like  the 
Dutch;  and  the  neglect  of  an  actual  model,  and  the  method 
of  proceeding  folely  from  idea,  has  a  tendency  to  make  the 
Painter  degenerate  into  a  mannerift. 

It  is  neceffary  to  keep  the  mind  in  repair  to  replace  and 
fefrefhen  thofe  impremons  of  nature  which  are  continually 
wearing  away. 

A  circumftance  mentioned  in  the  life  of  Guido,  is  well 
worth  the  attention  of  Artifts  :  He  was  afked  from  whence  he 
borrowed  his  idea  of  beauty,  which  is  acknowledged  fuperior 
to  that  of  any  other  Painter;  he  faid  he  would  Ihew  all  the 
models  he  ufed,  and  ordered  a  common  Porter  to  fit  before 
him,  from  whom  he  drew  a  beautiful  countenance ;  this  was 
intended  by  Guido  as  an  exaggeration  of  his  condud:;  but  his 

intention 


NOTES.  89 

intention  was  to  mew  that  he  thought  it  necefTary  to  have 
fome  model  of  nature  before  you,  however  you  deviate  from 
it,  and  correct  it  from  the  idea  which  you  have  formed  in  your 
mind  of  perfect  beauty. 

In  Painting  it  is  far  better  to  have  a  model  even  to  depart 
from,  than  to  have  nothing  fixed  and  certain  to  determine 
the  idea  :  There  is  fomething  then  to  proceed  on,  fomething 
to  be  corrected -,  fo  that  even  fuppofmg  no  part  is  taken,  the 
model  has  ftill  been  not  without  ufe. 

Such  habits  of  intercourfe  with  nature,  will  at  leafl  create 
that  variety  which  will  prevent  any  one's  prognofticating  what 
manner  of  work  is  to  be  produced,  on  knowing  the  fubject, 
which  is  the  moft  difagreeable  character  an  Artiit  can  have. 

R. 

NOTE  XXIX.     VERSE  265. 
Peculiar  toil  on  fingle  forms  bejlowy 
There  let  expreffion  lend  its  jini/h'd  glow. 

When  the  picture  confifts  of  a  fingle  figure  only,  that  figure 
mutt  be  contrafled  in  its  limbs  and  drapery  with  great  variety 
of  lines  :  It  is  to  be  as  much  as  poflible  a  compofition  of 
itfelf.  It  may  be  remarked,  that  fuch  a  complete  figure  will 
never  unite  or  make  a  part  of  a  group ;  as  on  the  other  hand, 
no  figure  of  a  well-conducted  group  will  ftand  by  itfelf.  A 
compofition,  where  every  figure  is  fuch  as  I  fuppofe  a  fingle 
figure  ought  to  be,  and  thofe  likewife  contrafted  to  each 
other,  which  is  not  uncommon  in  the  works  of  young  artifts, 
produces  fuch  an  aflemblage  of  artifice  and  affectation  as  is  in 
the  higheft  degree  unnatural  and  difguftful. 

There  is  another  circumftance  which,  tho'  not  improper 
in  fingle  figures,  ought  never  to  be  practifed  in  hiflprical 
pictures,  that  of  making  any  figure  looking  out  of  the  picture, 
that  is,  looking  at  the  perfon  who  looks  at  the  picture.  This 

M  conduct 


9o  NOTES. 

conduct  in  hiftory  gives  an  appearance  to  that  figure,  of  having 
no  connection  with  the  reft,  and  ought,  therefore,  never  to  be 
practifed  except  in  ludicrous  fubjects. 

It  is  not  certain  that  the  variety  recommended  in  a  fingle. 
figure,  can  with  equal  fuccefs  be  extended  to  colouring ;  the 
difficulty  will  be  in  diffufmg  the  colours  of  the  drapery  of 
this  fingle  figure  to  other  diftant  parts  of  the  picture,  for  this 
is  what  harmony  requires ;  this  difficulty,  however,  feems  ta> 
be  evaded  in  the  works  of  Titian,  Vandyck,  and  many  others, 
by  dreffing  their  fingle  figures  in  black  or  white. 

Vandyck,  in  the  famous  portrait  of  Cardinal  Bentivoglio, 
was  confined  in  his  drefs  to  crimfon  velvet  and  white  linen ; 
he  has,  therefore,  made  the  curtain  in  the  back-ground  of  the 
fame  crimfon  colour,  and  the  white  is  diffufed  by  a  letter 
which  lies  on  the  table,  and  a  bunch  of  flowers  is  likewife 
introduced  for  the  fame  purpofe.. 

R. 

NOTE  XXX.     VERSE  275. 
Not  on  the  form  in  ft  iff  adhefion  laid, 
But  well  relievd  by  gentle  light  and  foade. 
The  difpofing  the  drapery  fo,   as  to  appear  to  cling  clofe 
round  the  limbs,  is  a  kind  of  pedantry  which  young  Painters 
are  very  apt  to  fall  into,   as  it  carries  with  it  a  relifh  of  the 
learning  acquired  from  th«  antient  flatties ;    but  they  fhould 
recollect  that  there  is  not  the  fame  neceffity  for  this  practice 
in  painting  as  in  fculpture.  R 

NOTE  XXXI.     VERSE  297. 
But  fparingly  thy  earth-born  jlores  unfold, 
Nor  load  with  gems,  nor  lace  •with  tawdry  gold. 
Finery  of  all  kinds  deftroys  grandeur,   which  in  a  great 
meafure  proceeds  from  fimplicity ;  it  may,  however,  without 

impropriety 


NOTES.  9I 

impropriety  he  introduced  into  the  ornamental  fHle,    fuch  as 
that  .of  Rubens  and  Paul  Veronefe.  R. 

NOTE  XXXII.     VERSE  308. 
That  majefty*  that  grace  Jo  rarely  given 
To  mortal  mant  not  taught  by  art  but  heaven. 
It  is  undoubtedly  true,   and  perfectly  obvious,   that  every 
part  of  the  art  has  a  grace  belonging  to  it,  which,  to  fatisfy 
and  captivate  the  mind,  muft  be  fuperadded  to  corrednefs. 
This  excellence,  however  exprefled,  whether  by  Genius,  Tafle, 
or  the  gift  of  Heaven,   I  am  confident  may  be  acquired ;    or 
the  Artift  may  certainly  be  put  into  that  train  by  which  it 
{hall  be  acquired,   though  he  mufl,  in  a  great  meafure,   teach 
liimfelf  by  a  continual  contemplation  of  the  works  of  thofe 
Painters,  who  are  acknowleged  to  excel  in  grace  and  majefty, 
which  will  teach  him  to  look  for  it  in  nature,  and  induftry 
will  give  him  the  power  of  exprefling  it  on  canvas*  R. 

NOTE   XXXIII.     VERSE  315. 
The  laft,  the  mbleft  tafk  remains  untold* 
Paffion  to  paint  and  Sentiment  unfold. 

This  is  truly  the  nobleft  tafk,  and  is  the  finifhing  of  the 
fabric  of  art  -,  to  attempt  this  fummit  of  excellence,  without 
having  firfl  laid  that  foundation  of  habitual  corrednefs,  may 
truly  be  faid  to  build  caftles  in  the  air. 

Every  part  which  goes  to  the  compofition  of  a  pidure,  even 
inanimate  objeds,  are  capable  to  a  certain  degree  of  conveying 
fentiment,  and  contribute  their  {hare  to  the  general  purpofe 
of  ftriking  the  imagination  of  the  fpedator.  The  difpofition 
of  light,  or  the  folding  of  drapery,  will  give  fometimes  a 
general  air  of  grandeur  to  the  whole  work.  R. 

M  2  NOTE 


92  NOTES. 

NOTE  XXXIV.     VERSE   325. 
By  tedious  toil  no  paffions  are  expreft, 
His  band  'who  feels  them  Jlrongefl  paints  them  beft. 
A  Painter,  whatever  he  may  feel,  will  not  be  able  to  ex- 
prefs  it  on  canvas,  without  having  recourfe  to  a  recollection 
of  thofe  principles  by  which  that  pafHon  is  expreffed;   the 
mind  thus  occupied,  is  not  likely  at  the  fame  time  to  be 
poiTeffed  with  the  paffion  which  he  is  reprefenting,  an  image 
may  be  ludicrous,  and  in  its  firft  conception  make  the  Painter 
laugh  as  well  as  the  Spectator •>   but  the  difficulty  of  his  art 
makes  the  Painter,   in  the  courfe  of  his  work,   equally  grave 
and  ferious,  whether  he  is  employed  on  the  moft  ludicrous,, 
or  the  moft  folemn  fubjecls. 

However,  we  may,  without  great  violence,  fuppofe  this  rule 
to  mean  no  more,  than  that  a  fenfibility  is  required  in  the 
Artift,  fo  that  he  mould  be  capable  of  conceiving  the  pafTion 
properly  before  he  fets  about  reprefenting  it  on  canvas.  R. 

NOTE   XXXV.     VERSE   325. 
By  tedious  toil  no  Paffions  are  expreji, 
His  hand  who  feels  them  Jlrongeft  paints  them  beft. 
"  The  two  verfes  of  the  text,  notwithftanding  the  air  of 
antiquity  which  they  appear  to  have,  feem  moft  probably  to  be 
the  Author's  own,"  (fays  the  late  French  Editor) ;  but  I  fup- 
pofe,  as  I  did  on  a  fimihr  adage  before,   that  the  thought  is 
taken  from  antiquity.     With  refpedt  to  my  tranflation,   I  beg 
leave  to  intimate,  that  by  feeling  the  paffions  ftrongeft,   I  do 
not  mean  that  a  paflionate  man  will  make  the  beft  painter  of 
the  paffions,  but  he  who  has  the  cleareft  conception  of  them, 
that  is,  who  feels  their  effecl  on  the  countenance  of  other  men, 
as  in  great  aftors  on  the  ftage,   and  in  perfons  in  real  life 
ftrongly  agitated  by  them :  perhaps  my  tranflation  would  have 

been 


NOTES.  93 

been  clearer  and  more  confonant  with  the  above  judicious  ex- 
plication of  Sir  Joftiua  Reynolds,   if  it  had  run  thus, 
He  who  conceives  them  flrongeft  paints  them  bed. 

M. 

NOTE  XXXVI.     VERSE  348. 
Full  late  awoke  the  ceafelefs  tear  to  Jhed 
For  perffid  art. 

The  later  French  Editor,  who  has  modernized  the  ftyle  of 
Du  Piles  tranflation,  fays  here,  that  "  he  has  taken  the  liberty 
tofoftenthis  pafiage,  and  has  \xvnS&\&&Nil  fupereft,  by  prefqut 
rieny  inftead  of  Du  Piles  verfion-,  //  ne  nous  a  rien  refte  de  leur 
Peinture,  being  authorized  to  make  this  change  by  the  late 
difcoveries  of  antient  painting  at  Herculaneum  $'*  but  I  fcarce 
think  that,  by  thefe  difcoveries,  we  have  retrieved  any  thing 
of  antient  colouring*  which  is  the  matter  here  in  cpeftion, 
therefore  I  have  given  my  tranflation  that  turn.  M. 

NOTE   XXXVII.     VERSE  350. 
For  thofe  celejlial  hues 


Which  Zeuxis,  aided  by  the  Attic  Mufe, 
Gave  to  the  wondering  eyt 


From  the  various  antient  Paintings,  which  have  come  down 
to  us,  we  may  form  a  judgment  with  tolerable  accuracy  of 
the  excellencies  and  the  defects  of  the  art  amongft  the  antients. 

There  can  be  no  doubt,  but  that  the  fame  correctnefs  of 
defign  was  required  from  the  Painter  as  from  the  Sculptor  ^ 
and  if  the  fame  good  fortune  had  happened  to  us  in  regard  to 
their  Paintings,  to  poffefs  what  the  Antients  themfelves 
efteemed  their  mailer-pieces,  which  is  the  cafe  in  Sculpture, 
I  have  no  doubt  but  we  fliould  find  their  figures  as  correctly 
drawn  astheLaocoon,  andprobably  coloured  likeTitian.  What 
difpofes  me  to  think  higher  of  their  colouring  than  any  re- 

M  3  mains 


94  NOTE         S. 

'mains  of  antient  Painting  will  warrant,  is  the  account  which 
Pliny  gives  of  the  mode  of  operation  ufed  by  Apelles,  that 
-over  his  rimmed  picture  he  fpread  a  tranfparent  liquid  like 
ink,  of  which  the  effect  was  to  give  brilliancy,  and  at  the  fame 
time  to  lower  the  too  great  glare  of  the  colour:  Quod  abfoluta 
operaa  tramento  illinebat  it  a  tenui,  ut  id  ipfum  repercuffu  claritates 

colorum  excitaret. Ef  turn  ration*  magna  ne  colorum  daritas 

oculorum  aciem  off  indent.  This  pafTage,  tho'  it  may  poffibly 
perplex  the  critics,  is  a  true  and  an  artift-like  defcription  of 
the  effect  of  Glazing  or  Scumbling,  fuch  as  was  practifed  by 
Titian  and  the  reft  of  the  Venetian  Painters ;  this  cuftom,  or 
mode  of  operation,  implies  at  leaft  a  true  tafte  of  what  the 
excellence  of  colouring  confifts,  which  does  not  proceed  from 
fine  colours,  but  true.colours;  from  breaking  down  thefe  fine 
colours  which  would  Appear  .too. raw,  to  a  deep-toned  bright- 
nefs.  ^Perhaps  .the  manner  in  which  Corregio  practifed  the 
art  of  Glazing  was  flill  more  like  that  of  Apelles,  which  was 
-only  perceptible  to  thofe  who  looked  clofe  to  the  picture,  ad 
manum  intuenti  .demum  appareret^  whereas  in  Titian,  and  ftill 
-more  in  Baflan  and  others  his -imitators,  it  was  apparent  on 
the  flighteft  infpedion  :  Artifls  who  may  not  approve  of  Gla- 
zing, muft  ftill  acknowledge,  that  this  practice  is  not  that  of 
ignorance. 

Another. circumftance,  that  tends  to  prejudice  me  in  favour 
.of  their  colouring,  is  the  account  we  have  of  fome  of  their 
principal  painters  ufmg  but  four  colours  only.  I  am  convinced 
the  fewer  the  colours  the  cleaner  will  be  the  efFect  of  thofe 
colours,  and  that  four  is  fufficient  to  make  every  combination 
required.  Two  colours  mixed  together  will  not  preferve  the 
brightnefs  of  either  of  them  fmgle,  nor  will  three  be  as.  bright 
as  two :  of  this  obfervation,  fimple  as  it  is,  an  Artift,  who 
jvifhes  to  colour  bright,  will  know  the  value. 

la 


NOTES.  95 

In  regard  to  their  power  of  giving  peculiar  expreffion,  no 
correct  judgment  can  be  formed;  but  we  cannot  well  fuppofe 
that  men,  who  were  capable  of  giving  that  general  grandeur 
of  character  which  fo  eminently  diflinguifhes  their  works  in 
Sculpture,  were  incapable  of  expreffing  peculiar  pafficns.! 

As  to  the  enthufiaftic  commendations  beftowed  on  them  by 
their  contemporaries,  I  confider  them  as  of  no  weight.  The 
beft  words  are  always 'employed  to  praife  the  belt  works :  Ad- 
miration often  proceeds  from  ignorance  of  higher  excellence. 
What  they  appear  to  have  moft  failed  in  is  compofition,  both 
in  regard  to  the  grouping  of  their  figures,  and  the  art  of  dif- 
pofing  the  light  and  fliadow  in  mafles.  It  is  apparent  that 
this,  which  makes  fo  confiderable.  a  part  of  modern  art,  was 
to  them  totally  unknown. 

If  the  great  Painters  had  pofTefled  this  excellence,  fome 
portion  of  it  would  have  infallibly  been  diffufed,  and  have 
been  difcovetable  in  the  works  of  the  inferior  rank  of  Artifts, 
fuch  as  thofe  whofe  works  have  come  dow-n  to  us,  and'  which 
may  be  confidered  as  on  the  fame  rank  with  the  Paintings  that 
ornament  our  public  gardens  :  fuppofrng  our  modern  pictures  of 
this  rank  only  were  preferved  for  the  inspection  of  Connoifleurs 
two  thoufand  years  hence,  the  general  principles  of  com- 
pofition would  be  ftill  discoverable  in  thoie  pictures;  however 
feebly  executed,  there  would  be  feen  an  attempt  to  an  union 
of  the  figure  with  its  ground,  fome  idea  of  difpofing  both 
the  figures  and  the  lights  in  groups.  Now  as  nothing  of  this 
appears  in  what  we  have  of  antient  Painting,  we  may  conclude, 
that  this  part  of  the  art  was  totally  neglected,  or  more  pro^ 
bably  Unknown. 

They  might,  however, ,  have  produced  tingle  figures  which- 
approached  perfection  both  in  drawing  and  colouring;  they 
might  excel  in  a  Solo,  (in  the  language  of  Muficians)  though 

they 


96  NOTES. 

they  were  probably  incapable  of  compofing  a  full  piece  for  a 
concert  of  different  inftruments.  R« 

NOTE  XXXVIII.     VERSE  419. 
Permit  not  two  confpicuGus  lights  to  fiine 
With  rival  radiance  in  the  fame  defign. 

The  fame  right  judgment  which  profcribes  two  equal  lights, 
forbids  any  two  objects  to  be  introduced  of  equal  magnitude 
or  force,  fo  as  to  appear  to  be  competitors  for  the  attention  of 
the  fpectator.  This  is  common;  but  I  do  not  think  it  quite  fo 
common,  to  extend  the  rule  fo  far  as  it  ought  to  be  extended  : 
even  in  colours,  whether  of  the  warm  or  cold  kind,  there  mould 
be  one  of  each  which  mould  be  apparently  principal  and  pre- 
dominate over  the  reft.  It  muft  be  obferved,  even  in  drapery, 
that  two  folds  of  the  fame  drapery  be  not  of  equal  magnitude. 

R, 

NOTE  XXXIX.     VERSE  421. 
But  yield  to  one  alone  the  power  to  blaze  > 
And  fpread  tti  extenfive  vigor  of  its  rays. 
Rem brant  frequently  practifed  this  rule  to  a  degree  of  af- 
fectation,  by  allowing  but  one  mafs  of  light;   but  the  Vene- 
tian Painters,  and  Rubens,  who  extracted  his  principles  from 
their  works,   admitted  many  fubordinate  lights. 

The  fame  rules,  which  have  been  given  in  regard  to  the 
regulation  of  groups  of  figures,  muft  be  obferved  in  regard  to 
the  grouping  of  lights,  that  there  (hall  be  a  fuperiority  of  one 
over  the  reft,  that  they  mall  be  feparated,  and  varied  in  their 
fhapes,  and  that  there  mould  be  at  leaft  three  lights;  the 
fecondary  lights  ought,  for  the  fake  of  harmony  and  union, 
to  be  of  nearly  equal  brightnefs,  though  not  of  equal  magni- 
tude with  the  principal. 

The 


NOTES.  97 

The  Dutch  Painters  particularly  excelled  in  the  management 
of  light  and  made,  and  have  (hewn,  in  this  department,  that 
confummate  (kill  which  entirely  conceals  the  appearance  of 
art. 

Jan  Steen,  Teniers,  Oftade,  Du  Sart,  and  many  others  of 
that  fchool,  may  be  produced  as  inftances,  and  recommended 
to  the  young  artift's  careful  ftudy  and  attention. 

The  means  by  which  the  Painter  works,  and  on  which  the 
effect  of  his  picture  depends,  are  light  .and  (hade,  warm  and 
cold  colours  :  That  there  is  an  art  in  the  management  and 
difpofition  of  thofe  means  will  be  eafily  granted,  and  it  is 
equally  certain,  that  this  art  is  to  be  acquired  by  a  careful 
examination  of  the  works  of  thofe  who  have  excelled  in  it. 

I  mall  here  fet  down  the  refult  of  the  obfervations  which  I 
have  made  on  the  works  of  thofe  Artifts  who  appear  to  have 
beft  underftood  the  management  of  light  and  (hade,  and  who 
may  be  confidered  as  examples  for  imitation  in  this  branch  of 
the  art. 

Titian,  Paul  Veronefe,  and  Tintoret,  were  among  the  firft 
Painters  who  reduced  to  a  fyftem  what  was  before  practifed 
without  any  fixed  principle,  and  confequently  neglected  occa- 
fionally.  From  the  Venetian  Painters  Rubens  extracted  his 
fcheme  of  compofition,  which  was  foon  underflood  and  adopt- 
ed by  his  countrymen,  and  extended  even  to  the  minor  Painters 
of  familiar  life  in  the  Dutch  School. 

When  I  was  at  Venice  the  method  I  took  to  avail  myfelf  of 
their  principles  was  this :  When  I  obferved  an  extraordinary 
effect  of  light  and  made  in  any  picture,  I  took  a  leaf  of  my 
pocket-book,  and  darkened  every  part  of  it  in  the  fame  grada- 
tion of  light  and  (hade  as  the  picture,  leaving  the  white  paper 
untouched  to  reprefent  the  light,  and  this  without  any  atten- 
tion to  the  fubject  or  to  the  drawing  of  the  figures.  A  few 

N  trials 


98  NOTES. 

trials  of  this  kind  will  be  fufficient  to  give  the  method  of  their 
conduct  in  the  management  of  their  lights.  After  a  few  trials 
I  found  the  paper  blotted  nearly  alike;  their  general  practice 
appeared  to  be,  to  allow  not  above  a  quarter  of  the  picture  for 
the  light,  including  in  this  portion  both  the  principal  and 
fecondary  lights;  another  quarter  to  be  as  dark  as  poffiblej  and- 
the  remaining  half  kept  in  mezzotint  or  half  fhadow. 

Rubens  appears  to  have  admitted  rather  more  light  than  a 
quarter,  and  Rembrant  much  lefs,  fcarce  an  eighth ;  by  this- 
conduct  Rembrant's  light  is  extremely  brilliant,  but  it  cofts  too 
much ;  the  reft  of  the  picture  is  facrificed  to  this  one  object. 
That  light  will  certainly  appear  the  brighteft  which  is  fur- 
rounded  with  the  greateft  quantity  of  made,  fuppofing  equal- 
fkill  in  the  artift. 

By  this  means  you  may  likewife  remark  the  various  forms 
and  fliapes  of  thofe  lights,  as  well  as  the  objects  on  which 
they  are  flung,  whether  an  a  figure,  or  the  flcy,  on  a  white 
napkin,  on  animals,  or  utenfils,  often  introduced  for  this  pur- 
pofe  only:  It  may  be  obferved  likewife  what  portion  is  ftrongly 
relieved,  and  how  much  is  united  with  its  ground,  for  it  is 
neceflary  that  fome  part  (tho'  a  fmall  one  is  fufficient)  mould 
be  marp  and  cutting  againft  its  ground,  whether  it  be  light 
on  a  dark,  or  dark  on  a  light  ground,  in  order  to  give  firm- 
nefs  and  diftinctnefs  to  the  work ;  if  on  the  other  hand  it  is 
relieved  on  every  fide,  it  will  appear  as  if  inlaid  on  its  ground. 
Such  a  blotted  paper,  held  at  a  diftance  from  the  eye,  will 
ftrike  the  Spectator  as  fomething  excellent  for  the  difpofition 
of  light  and  fhadow,  though  he  does  not  diftinguifti  whether 
it  is  a  Hiftory,  a  Portrait,  a  Landfcape,  dead  Game,  or  any 
thing  elfe,  for  the  fame  principles  extend  to  every  branch  of 
the  art. 

Whether 


NOTES.  99 

Whether  I  have  given  an  exac"}:  account,  or  made  a  juft 
divifion  of  the  quantity  of  light  admitted  into  the  works  of 
thofe  Painters,  is  of  no  very  great  confequence;  let  every 
perfon  examine  and  judge  for  himfelf;  it  will  be  fufficient  if 
I  have  fuggefted  the  method  of  examining  pictures  this  way, 
and  one  means  at  leaft  of  acquiring  the  principles  on  which 
they  wrought.  R. 

NOTE   XL.     VERSE  441. 
'Then  only  juftly  fpread,  when  to  the  Jight 
A  breadth  of  fhade  purfues  a  breadth  of  light. 
The  higheft  fmifhing  is  labour  in  vain,   unlefs  at  the  fame 
time  there  be  preferved  a  breadth  of  light  and  madow ;  it  is  a 
quality,   therefore,  that  is  more  frequently  recommended  to 
fludents,  and  infilled  upon  than  any  other  whatever;  and,  per- 
haps,  for  this  reafon,   becaufe  it  is  moft  apt  to  be  neglected, 
the  attention  of  the  Artift  being  fo  often  entirely  abforbed  in 
the  detail. 

To  illuftrate  this,  we  may  have  recourfe  to  Titian's  bunch 
of  grapes,  which  we  will  fuppofe  placed  fo  as  to  receive  a 
broad  light  and  madow.  Here  though  each  individual  grape 
on  the  light  fide  has  its  light  and  fhadow  and  reflexion,  yet 
altogether  they  make  but  one  broad  mafs  of  light;  the  flighteft 
Iketch,  therefore,  where  this  breadth  is  preferved,  will  have 
a  better  effect,  will  have  more  the  appearance  of  coming  from 
a  mafter-hand ;  that  is,  in  other  words,  will  have  more  the 
characteristic  and  generale  of  nature  than  the  mofl  laborious 
finishing,  where  this  breadth  is  loil  or  neglefted.  R. 

NOTE   XLL     VERSE  469. 
Which  mildly  mixing,  evry  facial  dye 
"Unites  the  whole  in  hvelieft  harmony. 

The  fame  method  may  be  ufed  to  acquire  that  harmonious 

N  2  effecT: 


ioo  NOTES. 

effect  of  colours  as  was  recommended  for  the  acquifition  of 
light  and  fhade,  by  adding  colours  to  the  darkened  paper; 
but  as  thofe  are  not  always  at  hand,  it  may  be  fufficient,  if 
the  picture,  which  you  think  worthy  of  imitating,  be  con- 
fidered  in  this  light,  to  afcertain  the  quantity  of  warm  and  the 
quantity  of  cold  colours. 

The  predominant  colours  of  the  pidure  ought  to  be  of  a 
warm  mellow  kind,  red  or  yellow,  and  no  more  cold  colour 
fhould  be  introduced  but  what  will  be  jufl  enough  to  ferve 
as  a  ground  or  foil  to  fet  off  and  give  value  to  the  mellow 
Colours,  and  never  itfelf  be  principal;  for  this  purpofe  a 
quarter  of  the  picture  will  be  fufficient ;  thofe  cold  colours, 
whether  blue,  grey,  or  green,  are  to  be  difperfed  about  the 
ground  or  furrounding  parts  of  the  picture,  wherever  it  has 
the  appearance  of  wanting  fuch  a  foil,  but  fparingly  employed 
in  the  mafles  of  light. 

I  am  confident  an  habitual  examination  of  the  works  of 
thofe  Painters,  who  have  excelled  in  harmony,  will,  by  de- 
grees, give  a  correctnefs  of  eye  that  will  revolt  at  difcordant 
colours  as  a  mufician's  ear  revolts  at  difcordant  founds. 

R. 

NOTE  XLII.     VERSE  517. 
By  mellowing  Jkill  thy  ground  at  difiance  caft 
Free  as  the  air,  and  tranjient  as  its  blaft. 
By  a  ftory  told  of  Rubens,  we  have  his  authority  for  afTert- 
ing  that  to  the  effect  of  the  picture,  the  back-ground  is  of  the 
greateft  confequence. 

Rubens,  on  his  being  defired  to  take  under  his  instruction 
a  young  painter,  the  perfon  who  recommended  him,  in  order 
to  induce  Rubens  the  more  readily  to  take  him,  faid,  that  he 
was  already  fomewhat  advanced  in  the  art,  and  that  he  would 
be  of  immediate  affiftance  in  his  back-grounds.  Rubens 

fmiled 


NOTES.  ioi 

fmiled  at  his  Simplicity,  and  told  him,  that  if  the  youth  was 
capable  of  painting  his  back-grounds  he  flood  in  no  need  of 
his  inftruclions ;  that  the  regulation  and  management  of  them 
required  the  moft  comprehenfive  knowledge  of  the  art.  This 
Painters  know  to  be  no  exaggerated  account  of  a  back-ground, 
when  we  confider  how  much  the  efFecl  of  the  picture  depends 
upon  it. 

It  muft  be  in  union  with  the  figure,  fo  that  it  mall  not  have 
the  appearance,  as  if  it  was  inlaid  like  Holbein's  portraits, 
which  are  often  on  a  bright  green  or  blue  ground :  To  pre- 
vent this  efFecl,  the  ground  muft  partake  of  the  colour  of  the 
figure ;  or,  as  exprefled  in  a  fubfequent  line,  receive  all  the 
treafures  of  the  palette;  the  back-ground  regulates  likewife 
where  and  in  what  part  the  figure  is  to  be  relieved.  When 
the  form  is  beautiful,  it  is  to  be  feen  diftinclly,  when,  on  the 
contrary,  it  is  uncouth  or  too  angular,  it  may  be  loft  in  the 
ground  :  Sometimes  a  light  is  introduced  in  order  to  join  and 
extend  the  light  on  the  figure,  and  the  dark  fide  of  the  figure 
is  loft  in  a  ftill  darker  back-ground ;  for  the  fewer  the  outlines 
are  which  cut-againft  the  ground  the  richer  will  be  the  efFecl, 
as  the  contrary  produces  what  is  called  the  dry  manner. 

One  of  the  arts  of  fupplying  the  defect  of  a  fcantinefs  of 
drefs  by  means  of  the  back-ground,  may  be  obferved  in  a 
whole-length  portrait  by  Vandyke,  which  is  in  the  cabinet  of 
the  Duke  of  Montagu ;  the  drefs  of  this  figure  would  have  an 
ungraceful  efFecl;  he  has,  therefore,  by  means  of  a  light  back- 
ground, oppofed  to  the  light  of  the  figure,  and  by  the  help 
of  a  curtain  that  catches  the  light  near  the  figure,  made  the 
efFed  of  the  whole  together  full  and  rich  to  the  eye.  R. 


N  3  NOTE 


a-02  NOTES. 

NOTE    XLIII.     VERSE  523. 
^he  hand  that  colours  well  mujl  colour  bright, 
Hope  not  that  praife  to  gain  by  Jickly  whits. 

All  the  modes  of  harmony,  or  of  producing  that  effect  of 
^colours  which  is  required  in  a  picture,  may  be  reduced  to 
three,  two  of  which  belong  to  the  grand  fttle  and  the  other 
to. the  ornamental. 

The  firft  may  be  called  the  Roman  manner  where  the 
colours  are  of  a  full  and  ftrong  body,  fuch  as  are  found  in  the 
Transfiguration;  the  next  is  that  harmony  which  is  produced 
by  what  the  Antients  called  the  corruption  of  the  colours,  by 
mixing  and  breaking  them  till  there  is  a  general  union  in  the 
whole,  without  any  thing  that  (hall  bring  to  your  remem- 
brance the  Painter's  pallette,  or  the  original  colours ;  this 
may  be  called  the  Bolognian  ftile,  and  it  is  this  hue  and  effect 
of  colours  which  Ludovico  Carracci  feems  to  have  endeavoured 
to  produce,  though  he  did  not  carry  it  to  that  perfection  which 
we  have  feen  fince  his  time  in  the  fmall  works  of  the  Dutch 
fchool,  particularly  Jan  ^teen,  where  art  is  completely  con- 
cealed, and  the  Painter,  'like  a  great  Orator,  -never  draws  the 
attention  from  the  fubject  on  himfelf. 

The  laft  manner  belongs  properly  to  the  ornamental  ilile, 
which  we  call  the  Venetian,  where  it  was  firft  practifed,  but  is 
perhaps  better  learned  from  Rubens;  here  the  brightest  colours 
poflibie  are  admitted,  with  the  two  extremes  of  warm  and 
cold,  apd-thqfe  reconciled  by  being  difperfed  over  the  picture, 
till  the  whole  appears  like  a  bunch  of  flowers. 

As  I  have  given  inftances  from  the  Dutch  fchool,  where 
the  art  of  breaking  colour  may  be  learned,  we  may  recom- 
mend here  an  attention  to  the  works  of  Watteau  for  excel- 
lence in  this  florid  flile  of  painting. 

To 


NOTES.  103 

To  all  thefe  different  manners,  there  are  fome  general  rules 
that  muft  never  be  neglected;  firft,  that,  the  fame  colour, 
which  makes  the  largeft  mafs,  be  diffufed  and  appear  to  re- 
vive in  different  parts  of  the  picture,  for  a  (ingle  colour  will 
make  a  fpot  or  blot :  Even  the  difperfed  flefh  colour,  which 
the  faces  and  hands  make,  require  their  principal  mafs,  which 
is  beft  produced  by  a  naked  figure ;  but  where  the  fubject  will 
not  allow  of  this,  a  drapery  approaching  to  flem-colour  will 
snfwer  the  purpofe;  as  in  the  Transfiguration,  where  a  wo- 
man is  clothed  in  drapery  of  this  colour,  which  makes  a  prin- 
cipal to  all  the  heads  and  hands  of  the  picture;  and,  for  the. 
fake  of  harmony,  the  colours,  however  diftinguiflied  in  their 
light,  mould  be  nearly  the  fame  in  their  madows, .  of  a 

"  fimple  unity  of  made, 

"  As  all  were  from  one  fingle  pallette  fpread." 
And  to  give  the  utmoft  force,   flrength,   and  folidity  to  your 
work,  fome  part  of  the  picture  mould  be  as  light  and  fome; 
as  dark  as  poffibie ;  thefe  two  extremes  are  then  to  be  harmo- 
nifed  and  reconciled  to  each  othen 

Inftances,  where  both  of  them  are  ufed,  may  be  obferved- 
in  two  pictures  of  Rubens,  which  are  equally  eminent  for  the 
force  and  brilliancy  of  their  effect ;  one  is  in  the  cabinet  of. 
the  Duke  of  Rutland,  and  the  other  in  the  chapel  of  Rubens 
at  Antwerp,  which  ferves  as  his  monument.  In  both  thefe 
pictures  he  has  introduced  a  female  figure  drefled  in  black  fatin, . 
the  madows  of  which  are  as  dark  as  pure  black,  oppofed  to  the; 
contrary  extreme  of  brightnefs,  can  make  them. 

If  to  thefe  different   manners  we  add  one  more, -that  in. 
which  a  filver-grey  or  pearly  tint  is  predominant,   I  believe 
every  kind  of  harmony  that  can  be  produced  by  colours  will 
be  comprehended.     One  of  the  greateft  examples  in  this  mode 
is  the  famous  marriage  at  Cana,   in  St.  George's  Church  at 

Venice., 


104  NOTE 

Venice,  where  the  fky,  which  makes  a  very  confiderahle  part 
of  the  picture,  is  of  the  lighted  blue  colour,  and  the  clouds 
perfeftly  white,  the  reft  of  the  pidure  is  in  the  fame  key, 
wrought  from  this  high  pitch.  We  fee  likewife  many  pic- 
tures of  Guido  in  this  tint;  and  indeed  thofe  that  are  fo,  are 
in  his  bed  manner.  Female  figures,  angels  and  children, 
were  thefubjects  in  which  Guido  more  particularly  fucceeded; 
and  to  fuch,  the  .cleannefs  and  neatnefs  of  this  tint  perfectly 
correfponds,  and  contributes  not  a  little  to  that  exquifite  beauty 
and  delicacy  which  fo  much  diftinguimes  his  works.  To  fee 
this  ftile  in  perfection,  we  mtift  again  have  recourfe  to  the 
Dutch  fchool,  particularly  to  the  works  of  the  younger 
Vandevelde,  and  the  younger  Teniers,  whofe  pictures  are 
valued  by  the  connoiiTeurs  in  proportion  as  they  polTefs  this 
excellence  of  a  filver  tint.  Which  of  thefe  different  fliles 
ought  to  be  preferred,  fo  as  to  meet  every  man's  idea,  would 
be  difficult  to  determine,  from  the  predilection  which  every 
man  has  to  that  mode,  which  is  practifed  by  the  fchool  in 
which  he  has  been  educated;  but  if  any  pre-eminence  is  to  be 
given,  it  muft  be  to  that  manner  which  ftands  in  the  higheft 
eftimation  with  mankind  in  general,  and  that  is  the  Venetian, 
or  rather  the  manner  of  Titian,  which,  fimply  confidered  as 
producing  an  effect  of  colours,  will  certainly  eclipfe,  with  its 
fplendor,  whatever  is  brought  into  competition  with  it:  But, 
as  I  hinted  before,  if  female  delicacy  and  beauty  be  the  prin- 
.ci pal  object  of  the  Painter's  aim,  the  purity  and  clearnefs  of 
the  tint  of  Guido  will  correfpond  better,  and  more  contribute 
to  produce  it  than  even  the  glowing  tint  of  Titian. 

The  rarity  of  excellence  in  any  of  thefe  ftiles  of  colouring 
fufficiently  (hews  the  difficulty  of  fucceeding  in  them  :  It  may 
be  worth  the  Artift's  attention,  while  he  is  in  this  purfuit, 
particularly  to  guard  againft  thofe  errors  which  feem  to  be 

annexed 


NOTES.  105 

annexed  to  or  thinly  divided  from  their  neighbouring  excel- 
lence ;  thus,  when  he  is  endeavouring  to  acquire  the  Roman 
ftile,  without  great  care,  he  falls  into  a  hard  and  dry  manner. 
The  flowery  colouring  is  nearly  allied  to  the  gaudy  effect  of 
fan-painting.  The  fimplicity  of  the  Bolognian  ftile  requires 
the  niceft  hand  to  preferve  it  from  infipidity.  That  of  Titian, 
which  may  be  called  the  Golden  Manner,  when  unfkilfully 
managed,  becomes  what  the  Painters  call  Foxy ;  and  the  filver 
degenerates  into  the  leaden  and  heavy  manner.  All  of  them, 
to  be  perfect  in  their  way,  will  not  bear  any  union  with  each 
other;  if  they  are  not  diftinctly  feparated,  the  effect  of  the 
picture  will  be  feeble  and  infipid,  without  any  mark  or  diftin- 
guimed  character.  R. 

NOTE  XLIV.     VERSE  538. 
On  that  higb-finift>d  form  let  paint  beftow 
Her  midnight- ft  ado™,  her  meridian  glow. 
It  is  indeed  a  rule  adopted  by  many  Painters  to  admit  in  no 
part  of  the  back-ground,  or  on  any  object  in  the  picture,  ma- 
dows  of  equal  ftrength  with  thofe  which  are  employed  on  the 
principal  figure;  but  this  produces  afalfe  reprefentation.   With 
deference  to  our  Author,  to  have  the  ftrong  light  and  madow 
there  alone,  is  not  to  produce  the  beft  natural  effect ;  nor  is 
it  authorifed  by  the  practice  of  thofe  Painters  who  are  moft 
diftinguifhed  for  harmony  of  colouring :   A  conduct,  there- 
fore,  totally  contrary  to  this  is  abfolutely  neceffary,   that  the 
fame  ftrength,  the  fame  tone  of  colour,  mould  be  diffufed  over 
the  whole  picture. 

I  am  no  enemy  to  dark  madows ;  the  general  deficiency  to 
be  obferved  in  the  works  of  the  Painters  of  the  laft  age,  as 
well  as  indeed  of  many  of  the  prefent,  is  a  feeblenefs  of  effect; 
they  feem  to  be  too  much  afraid  of  thofe  midnight  Shadows, 

O  which 


io6  N         O         T         E         S. 

\vhich  alone  give  the  power  of  nature,  and  without  which  a 
picture  will  indeed  appear  like  one  wholly  wanting  folidity 
and  ftrength.  The  lighteft  and  gayeft  ftile  requires  this  foil 
to  give  it  force  and  brilliancy.  , 

There  is  another  fault  prevalent  in  the  more  modern  Pain- 
ters, which  is  the  predominance  of  a  grey  leaden  colour  over 
the  whole  picture  i  this  is  more  particularly  to  be  remarked 
when  their  works  hang  in  the  fame  room  with  pictures  well 
and  powerfully  coloured.  The/e  two  deficiencies,  the  want 
offlrength,  and  the  want  of  mellownefs  or  warmth,  is  often 
imputed  to  the  want  of  materials,  as  if  we  had  not  fuch  good 
colours  as  thofe  Painters  whofe  works  we  fo  much  admire. 

R. 

NOTE  XLV.     VERSE  579. 
Know  he  that  well  begins  has  half  atckievd 

His  deft  in  d  work 

Thofe  Matters  are  the  beft  models  to  begin  with  who  have 
the  feweft  faults,  and  who  are  the  moft  regular  in  the  con  duel: 
of  their  work.  The  firft  ftudies  ought  rather  to  be  made  on 
their  performances  than  on  the  productions  of  the  excentric 
Genius  :  Where  ftriking  beauties  are  mixed  with  great  defects, 
the  ftudent  will  be  in  danger  of  miftaking  blemifhes  for 
beauties,  and  perhaps  the  beauties  may  be  fuch  as  he  is  not 
advanced  enough  to  attempt.  R 

NOTE  XL VI.     VERSE  584.. 

.  his  erroneous  lines 


Will  to  the  foul  that  poifon  rank  convey, 
Which  life's  beft  length  Jhall  fail  to  purge  away. 
Tafte  will  be  unavoidably  regulated  by  what  is  continually 
before  the  eyes.     It  were  therefore  well  if  young  ftudents 
could  be  debarred  the  fight  of  any  works  that  were  not  free 

from 


NOTES.  I07 

from  grofs  faults  till  they  had  well  formed,  and,  as  I  may 
fay,  hardened  their  judgment :  they  might  then  be  permitted 
to  look  about  them,  not  only  without  fear  of  vitiating  their 
tafte,  but  even  with  advantage,  and  would  often  find  great 
ingenuity  and  extraordinary  invention  in  works  which  are 
under  the  influence  of  a  bad  tafte.  R. 

NOTE  XLVII.     VERSE   601. 
A s  furely  charms  that  voluntary  jlile, 
Which  carelefs  plays  and  feems  to  mock  at  toil. 
This  appearance  of  eafe  and  facility  may  be  called  the  Grace 
or  Genius  of  the  mechanical  or  ^executive  part  of  the  art. 
There  is   undoubtedly  fomething  fafcinating  in   feeing  that 
done  with  carelefs  eafe,   which  others  do  with  laborious  diffi- 
culty :  the  fpedator  unavoidably,  by  a  kind  of  natural  inftind:, 
feels  that  general  animation  with  which  the  hand  of  the  Artift 
feems  to  be  infpired. 

Of  all  Painters  Rubens  appears  to  claim  the  firft  rank  for 
facility  both  in  the  invention  and  in  the  execution  of  his 
work ;  it  makes  fo  great  a  part  of  his  excellence,  that  take  it 
away,  and  half  at  lead  of  his  reputation  will  go  with  it.  R,. 

NOTE  XLVIII.     VERSE  617. 
tfhe  eye   each  obvious  error  fwift  defcrics, 
Hold  then  the  compafs  only  in  the  eyes. 

A  Painter  who  relies  on  his  compafs,  leans  on  a  prop  which 
will  not  fupport  him  :  there  are  few  parts  of  his  figures  but 
what  are  fore-fhortened  more  or  lefs,  and  cannot,  therefore, 
be  drawn  or  corrected  by  meafures.  Though  he  begins  his 
fludies  with  the  compafs  in  his  hand  as  we  learn  a  dead  lan- 
guage by  Grammar,  yet,  after  a  certain  time,  they  are  both 
Hung  afide,  and  in  their  place  a  kind  of  mechanical  corre&nefs 

O  2  of 


io8  NOTES. 

of  the  eye  and  ear  is  fubftituted,  which  operates  without  any 
confcious  effort  of  the  mind.  R. 

NOTE  XLIX.     VERSE   620. 
Give  to  the  dilates  of  the  learn  d  refpecl. 

There  are  few  fpeftators  of  a  Painter's  work,  learned  or 
unlearned,  who,  if  they  can  be  induced  to  fpeak  their  real 
fenfations,  would  not  be  profitable  to  the  Artift.  The  only 
opinions  of  which  no  ufe  can  be  made,  are  thofe  of  half- 
learned  connoiffeurs,  who  have  quitted  Nature  and  have  not 
acquired  Art.  That  fame  fagacity  which  makes  a  man  excel 
in  his  profefllon  muft  affiil  him  in  the  proper  ufe  to  be  made 
of  the  judgment  of  the  learned,  and  the  opinions  of  the  vulgar. 
Of  many  things  the  vulgar  are  as  competent  judges  as  the 
moft  learned  connoiffeur ;  of  the  portrait,  for  in  fiance,  of  an 
animal ;  or,  perhaps,  of  the  truth  of  the  reprefentations  of 
fome  vulgar  paflions. 

It  muft  be  expected  that  the  untaught  vulgar  will  carry 
with  them  the  fame  want  of  right  tafte  in  the  judgment  they 
make  of  the  effect  or  charader  in  a  picture  as  they  do  in 
life,  and  prefer  a  ftrutting  figure  and  gaudy  colours  to  the 
grandeur  of  fimplicity;  but  if  this  fame  vulgar,  or  even  an, 
infant,  miftook  for  dirt  what  was  intended  to  be  a  made,  it 
may  be  apprehended  the  fhadow  was  not  the  true  colour  of 
nature,  with  almoft  as  much  certainty  as  if  the  obfervatioa 
had  been  made  by  the  moft  able  connoiffeur.  R% 

NOTE    L.     VERSE  703. 
Know  that  ere  perfett  tafte  matures  the  mind, 
Or  perfeft  pratfice  to  that  tafte  be  joind. 
However  admirable  his  tafte  may  be,  he  is  but  half  a  Painter 
who  can  only  conceive  his  fubjecl,  and  is  without  knowledge 

of 


NOTES.  109 

of  the  mechanical  part  of  his  art ;  as  on  the  other  fide  his 
fkill  may  be  faid  to  be  thrown  away,  who  has  employed  his 
colours  on  fubjecls  that  create  no  intereft  from  their  beauty, 
their  character,  or  expreffion.   One  part. often  abforbs  the  whole 
mind  to  the  neglect  of  the  refti  the  young  fludents,  whilft  at 
Rome,  ftudying  the  works  of  Michael.  Angelo  and  Raffaelle, 
are  apt  to  lofe  all  relifh  for  any  kind  of  excellence,   except 
what  is  found  in  their  works :    Perhaps  going  afterwards  to 
Venice  they  may  be  induced  to  think  there  are  other  things 
required,  and.  that  nothing  but  the  moft  fuperlative  excellence 
in  defign,,  character,  and  dignity  of  ftile,   can  atone  for  a  de- 
ficiency in  the  ornamental  graces  of  the  art.     Excellence  mufl. 
of  courfe  be  rare;   and  one  of  the  caufes  of  its  rarity,  is  the 
neceffity  of  uniting  qualities  which  in  their  nature  are  contrary 
to  each  other;  and  yet  no  approaches  can  be  made  towards 
perfection  without  it.     Every  art  or  profeffion  requires  this 
union  of  contrary  qualities,  like  the  harmony  of  colouring, 
which  is  produced  by  an  oppofition  of  hot  and  cold  hues* 
The  Poet  and  the  Painter  mud  unite  to  the  warmth  that  ac- 
companies a  poetical  imagination,   patience  and  perfeverance ; 
the  one  in  counting  fyllables  and  toiling  for  a  rhyme,  and  the 
other  in  labouring  the  minute  parts  and  finishing  the  detail  of 
his  works,  in  order  to  produce  the  great  effect  he  defires : 
They  muft  both  poflefs  a  comprehenfive  mind  that  takes  in 
the  whole  at  one  view,  and  at  the  fame  time  an  accuracy  of 
eye  or  mind  that  diftinguimes  between  two  things  that,  to  an 
ordinary  fpectator,  appear  the  fame,  whether  this  confifts  in 
tints  or  words,  or  the  nice  difcrimination  gn  which  expreflion. 
'and  elegance  depends..  R. 

O  3  NOTE 


no  NOTES. 

1N  O  T  E  LI.     VERSE  715. 
'While  free  from  -prejudice  your  atfive  eye 
Preferves  its  fir  ft  unfullied  purity. 

'Prejudice  is  generally  ufed  in  a  bad  fenfe,   to  imply  a  pre- 
dilection,  not  founded  on  reafon  or  nature,   in  favour  of  a 
particular  matter,  or  a  particular  manner,  and  therefore  to  be 
oppofed  with  all  our  force;  but  totally  to  eradicate  in  advanced 
age  what  has  fo  much  aflifted.  us  in  our  youth,   is  a  point  to 
.which  we  cannot  hope  to  arrive ;   the  difficulty  of  conquering 
this  prejudice  is  to  be  confiderediry  the. number  of  thofe  caufes 
-  which  makes  excellence  fo  very  rare. 

Whoever  would  make  a  rapid  progrefs  in  any  art  or  fcience, 
muft  begin  by  having  great  confidence  in,  and  even  prejudice 
in  favour  of,  his  inttru&or;  but  to  continue  to  think  him 
infallible,   would  be  continuing  for  ever  in  a  ftate  of  infancy. 
It  is  impoflible  to  draw  a  line  when  the  Artift  mall  begin 
to  dare  to  examine  and  criticife  the  works  of  his  Mafter,  or 
of  the  greateft  mafler-pieces  of  art;   we  can  only  fay, •  that  it 
will  be  gradual.     In  proportion  as  the  Scholar  learns'  to  analyfe 
the  excellence  of  the  Matters  he  efteems ;  in  proportion  as  he 
.  comes  exaftly  to  dittinguifh  in  what  that  excellence  con  fitts, 
and  refer  it  to  fome  precife  rule  and  fixed  ttandard,  in  that 
proportion  he  becomes  free.     -When  he  has  once  laid  hold  of 
their  principle,  he  will  fee  when  they  deviate  from  it,  or  fail 
,  to  come  up  to  it ;  fo  that  it  is  in  reality  through  his  extreme 
,  admiration  of,  and  blind  deference  to,  thefe  Matters,  (without 
which  he  never  would  have  employed  an  intenfe  application 
to,  discover  the  rule  and  fcheme  of  their  work)  that  he  is 
enabled,  if  I  may  ufe  the  expreffion,  to  emancipate  himfelf, 
even  to  get  above  them,   and  to  become  the  judge  of  thofe  of 
whom  he  was  at  firft  the  humble  difciple.  R. 

NOTE 


NOTES.  in 

NOTE  LIT.     VERSE  721. 
When  duly  taught  each  geometric  rule, 
Approach  with  awful  Jlep  the  Grecian  fchool. 
The  firfl  bufinefs  of  the  itudent  is  to  be  able  to  give  a  true 
reprefentation  of  whatever  object  prefents  itfelf,  juft  as  it  ap- 
pears to  the  eye,  fo  as  to  amount  to  a  deception,  and  the  geo- 
metric rules  of  perfpeclive  are  included  in  this  ftudy;  this  is 
the  language  of  the  art,  which  appears  the.  more  necefTary  to 
be  taught  early,  from  the  natural  repugnance  which  the  mind 
has  to  fuch  mechanical  labour  after  it  has  acquired  a  relifh  for 
its  higher  departments'. 

The  next  ftep  is  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  the-  beauty  of 
Form;  for  this  purpofehe  is  recommended  to  theftudy  of  the 
GreciaaSculpture;  and  for  compofition,  colouring,  and  expref- 
fion  to  the  great  works  at  Rome,  Venice,  Parma,  and  Bo- 
logna; he  begins  now  to  look- for  thofe  excellencies  which 
addrefs  themfelves  to  the  imagination,  and  confiders  deception 
as  a  fcaffolding.to  be  now  thrown  afide,  as  of  no  importance 
to  this  finifhed  idea  of  the  art,  R. 

N  O  T  E  LIII.     VERSE  725. 
No  reft,  no  paufe,  till  all  her  graces  known, 
A  happy  habit  makes  each  grace  your  own. 
To   acquire  this  excellence,   fomething  more  is  required 
than  meafuring  ftatues  or  copying  pictures. 

I  am  confident  the  works  of  the  antient  fculptors  were  pro- 
duced, not  by  meafuring,  but  in  confequence  of  that  correct- 
nefs  of  eye  which  they-  had  acquired  by  long  habit,  which 
ferved  them  at,  all.  times^  and  on  all  occasions,  when  the  com- 
pafs  would  fail :  There  is  no  reafon  why  the  eye  fhould  not 
be  capable  of  acquiring  equal  precifion  and  exadtnefs  with  the 
organs  of  hearing  or  fpeaking.  We  know  that  an  infanr; 

who 


ii2  NOTES. 

who  has  learned  its  language  by  habit,  will  fometimes  correct 
the  moft  learned  grammarian  who  has  been  taught  by  rule 
only:  The  .idiom,  which  is  the  peculiarity  of  language,  and 
that  in  which  its  native  grace  is  feated,  can  be  learned  by 
habit  alone. 

To  poffefs  this  perfect  habit,  the  fame  conduct  is  neceffary 
in  art  as  in  language,  that  it  fliould  be  begun  early,  whilfl  the 
organs  are  pliable  and  imprefiions  ar-e  eafily  taken,  and  that  we 
fhould  accuftom  ourfelves,  whilft  this  habit  is  forming,  to  fee 
beauty  only,  and  avoid  as  much  as  poffible  deformity  or  what 
is  incorrect :  Whatever  is  got  this  way  may  be  faid  to  be  pro- 
perly made  your  own.,  it  becomes  a  part  of  yourfelf,  and 
operates  unperceived.  The  mind  acquires  by  fuch  exercife  a 
kind  of  inftinctive  rectitude  which  fuperfedes  all  rules.  R. 

NOTE  LIV.  VERSE  733. 
See  Raphael  there  his  forms  celejlial  trace, 
Unrivall'd  Jovereign  of  the  realms  of  grace. 
The  pre-eminence  which  Frefnoy  has  given  to  thofe  three 
great  Painters,  Raffaelle,  Michael  Angela,  and  Julio  Romano, 
fufficiently  points  out  to  us  what  aught  to  be  the  chief  object 
of  our  purfuit.  Tho'  two  of  them  were  either  totally  ignorant 
or  never  practifed  any  of  thofe  graces  of  the  art  which  proceed 
from  the  management  of  colours  or  the  difpoiltion  of  light 
and  madow;  and  the  other  (Raffaelle)  was  far  from  being 
eminently  ikilful  in  thefe  particulars,  yet  they  all  jufHy  delerve 
that  high  rank  in  which  Frefnoy  has  placed  them ;  Michael 
Angelq,  for  the  grandeur  and  fublimity  of  his  characters,  as 
well  as  for  his  profound  knowledge  of  defign ;  Raffaelle,  for 
the  judicious  arrangement  of  his  materials,  for  the  grace,  the 
dignity,  and  expreflion  of  his  characters;  and  Julio  Romano, 
for  poffeffmg  the  true  poetical  genius  of  painting,  perhaps, 
to  a  higher  degree  than  any  other  Painter  whatever. 

In 


NOTES.  113 

In  heroic  fubjects  it  will  not,  I  hope,  appear  too  great  re- 
finement of  criticifm  to  fay,  that  the  want  of  naturalnefs  or 
deception  of  the  art,  which  give  to  an  inferior  ftile  its  whole 
value,  is  no  material  difadvantage  :  The  Hours,  for  inftance, 
as  reprefented  by  Julio  Romano,  giving  provender  to  thehorfes 
of  the  Sun,  would  not  ftrike  the  imagination  more  forcibly 
from  their  being  coloured  with  the  pencil  of  Rubens,  tho'  he 
would  have  reprefented  them  more  naturally ;  but  might  he 
not  poflibly,  by  that  very  act,  have  brought  them  down  from 
their  celeftial  ftate  to  the  rank  of  mere  terreftrial  animals  ?  In 
thefe  things,  however,  I  admit  there  will  always  be  a  degree  of 
uncertainty  :  Who  knows  that  Julio  Romano,  if  he  had  pof- 
fefled  the  art  and  practice  of  colouring  like  Rubens,  would  not 
have  given  to  it  fome  tafteof  poetical  grandeur  not  yet  attained 
to? 

The  fame  familiar  naturalnefs  would  be  equally  an  imper- 
fection in  characters  which  are  to  be  reprefented  as  demi-gods, 
or  fomething  above  humanity. 

Tho'  it  would  be  far  from  an  addition  to  the  merit  of  thofe 
two  great  Painters  to  have  made  their  works  deceptions,  yet 
there  can  be  no  reafon  why  they  might  not,  in  fome  degree, 
and  with  a  judicious  caution  and  feledtion,  have  availed  them- 
felves  of  many  excellencies  which  are  found  in  the  Venetian, 
Flemifh,  and  even  Dutch  fchools,  and  which  have  been  in- 
culcated in  this  Poem.  There  are  fome  of  them  which  are 
not  in  abfolute  contradiction  to  any  ftile:  The  happy  difpoiition, 
for  inftance,  of  light  and  made;  the  prefervation  of  breadth 
in  the  mafies  of  colours;  the  union  of  thefe  with  their  ground; 
and  the  harmony  arifing  from  a  due  mixture  of  hot  and  cold 
hues,  with  many  other  excellencies,  not  infeparably  connect- 
ed with  that  individuality  which  produces  deception,  would 
•furely  not  counteract  the  effect  of  the  grand  ftile;  they  would 

P  only 


-114  NOTE 

only  contribute  to  the  eafe  of  the  fpectator,  by  making  the 
vehicle  pleating  by  which  ideas  are  conveyed  to  the  mind, 
which  otherwife  might  be  perplexed  and  bewildered  with  a 
confufed  affemblage  of  objects;  it  would  add  a  certain  degree 
of  grace  and  fvveetnefs  to  ftrength  and  grandeur.  Tho'  the 
excellencies  of  thofe  two  great  Painters  are  of  fuch  tranfcen- 
dency  as  to  make  us  overlook  their  deficiency,  yet  a  fubdued 
attention  to  thefe  inferior  excellencies  muft  be  added  to  com- 
plete the  idea  of  a  perfect  Painter. 

Deception,  which  is  fo  often  recommended  by  writers  on 
the  theory  of  painting,  inftead  of  advancing  the  art,  is  in 
reality  carrying  it  back  to  its  infant  ftate  :  the  firft  effays  of 
Painting  were  certainly  nothing  but  mere  imitation  of  indi- 
vidual objects,  and  when  this  amounted  to  a  deception,  the 
'artift  had  accomplimed  his  purpofe. 

And  here  I  mud  obferve,  that  the  arts  of  Painting  and 
Poetry  feem  to  have  no  kind  of  refemblance  in  their  early 
ftages :  The  firft,  or,  at  leaft,  the  fecond  flage  of  Poetry  in  every 
nation  is  the  fartheft  removed  poflible  from  common  life  : 
Every  thing  is  of  the  marvellous  kind;  it  treats  only  of  heroes, 
wars,  ghofts,  inchantments,  and  transformations.  The  Poet 
could  not  expect  to  feize  and  captivate  the  attention,  if  he 
related  only  common  occurrences,  fuch  as  every  day  produced; 
whereas  the  Painter  exhibited  what  then  appeared  a  great  effort 
of  art,  by  merely  giving  the  appearance  of  relief  to  a  flat  fuper- 
ficies,  however  uninterefting  in  itfelf  that  object  might  be; 
but  this  foon  fatiating,  the  fame  entertainment  was  required 
from  Painting  which  had  been  experienced  in  Poetry.  The 
mind  and  imagination  were  to  be  fatisfied,  and  required  to  be 
amufed  and  delighted  as  well  as  the  eye;  and  when  the  art 
proceeded  to  a  ftill  higher  degree  of  excellence,  it  was  then 
found  that  this  deception  not  only  did  not  affift,  but  even  in 


NOTES. 

a  certain  degree  counteracted  the  flight  of  imagination ;  hence 
proceeded  the  Roman  fchool,  and  it  is  from  hence  that  Raf- 
faelle,  Michael  Angelo,  and  Julio  Romano  ftand  in  that  pre- 
heminence  of  rank  in  which  Frefnoy  has  juftly  placed  them. 

R. 

NOTE   LV.     VERSE  747. 
Bright,  beyond  all  the  reft,  Correggio  jlings 
His  ample  lights,  and  round  them  gently  brings 

'The  mingling  JJjade. 

The  excellency  of  Correggio's  manner  has  juftly  been  ad- 
mired by  all  fucceeding  Painters.  This  manner  is  in  direct 
oppolition  to  what  is  called  the  dry  and  hard  manner  which 
preceded  him. 

His  colour,  and  his  mode  of  finishing,  approach  nearer  to 
perfection  than  thofe  of  any  other  Painter;  the  gliding  motion 
of  his  outline,  and  the  fweetnefs  with  which  it  melts  into 
the  ground;  the  cleannefs  and  tranfparency  of  his  colouring, 
which  ftop  at  that  exact  medium  in  which  the  purity  and 
perfection  of  tafte  lies,  leave  nothing  to  be  wifhed  for.  Ba- 
rochio,  tho',  upon  the  whole,  one  of  his  moft  fuccefsful  imi- 
tators, yet  fometimes,  in  endeavouring  at  cleannefs  or  bril- 
liancy of  tint,  overmot  the  mark,  and  falls  under  the  criticifm 
that  was  made  on  an  antient  Painter,  that  his  figures  looked 
as  if  they  fed  upon  rofes.  R. 

NOTE   LVI.     VERSE   767. 
Yet  more  than  thefe  to  meditations  eyes, 
Great  Nature  s  felf  redundantly  fupplies. 
Frefnov,  with  great  propriety,  begins  and  finimes  his  Poem 
with  recommending  the  ftudy  of  Nature. 

This  is  in  reality  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  Theory: 
It  is  in  Nature  only  we  can  find  that  Beauty  which  is  the 

P  2  great 


ii6  N        O        T        E        S. 

great  object  of  our  feareh,  it  can  be  found  no  where  elfe ;  we 
can  no  more  form  any  idea  of  Beauty  fuperior  to  Nature  than 
we  can  form  an  idea  of  a  fixth  fenfe,  or  any  other  excellence 
out  of  the  limits  of  the  human  mind  y  we  are  forced  to  con- 
fine aur  conception  even  of  heaven  itfelf  and  its  inhabitants 
to  what  we  fee  in.  this  world;  even  the  Supreme  Being,  if  he 
is  reprefented  at  all,  the  Painter  has  no  other  way  of  reprefent- 
ing  than  by  reverfmg  the  decree  of  the  infpired  Lawgiver,  and 
making  God  after  his  own  image.. 

Nothing  can  be  fo  unphilofophical  as  a  fuppofition  that  we 
can  form  any  idea  of  beauty  or  excellence  out  of  or  beyond 
Nature,  which  is  and.  muft  be  the  fountain-head  from  whence 
all  our  ideas  muft  be  derived. 

This  being  acknowleged,  it  muft  follow,  of  courfe,  that 
all  the  rules  which  this  theory,  or  any  other,  teaches,  can  be 
no  more  than  teaching  the  art  of  feeing  nature.  The  rules  of 
Art  are  formed  on  the  various  works  of  thofe  who  have  ftudied 
Nature  the  moft  fuccefsfully  :  by  this  advantage  of  obferving 
the  various  manners  in  which  various  minds  have  contem- 
plated her  works,  the  artift  enlarges  his  own  views,  and  is 
taught  to  look  for  and  fee  what  would  otherwife  have  efcaped 
his  obfervation. 

It  is  to  be  remarked,  that  there  are  two  modes  of  imitating 
nature  j  one  of  which  refers  to  the  fenfations  of  the  mind  for 
its  truth,  and  the  other  to  the  eye. 

Some  fchools,  fuch  as  the  Roman  and  Florentine,  appear 
to  have  addreffed  themfelves  principally  to  the  mind ;  others 
folely  to  the  eye,  fuch  as  the  Venetian  in  the  inftances  of 
Paul  Veronefe  and  Tintoret :  others  again  have  endeavoured 
to  unite  both,  by  joining  the  elegance  and  grace  of  ornament 
with  the  ftrength  and  vigour,  of  defign;  fuch  are  the  fchools 
of  Bologna  and  Parma. 

All 


NOTES.  217 

All  thofe  fchools  are  equally  to  be  confidered  as  followers 
of  Nature  :  He  who  produces  a  work,  analogous  to  the  mind 
or  imagination  of  man,  is  as  natural  a  Painter  as  he  whofe 
works  are  calculated  to  delight  the  eye;  the  works  of  Mi- 
chael Angelo  or  Julio  Romano,  in  this  fenfe,.  may  be  faid  to 
be  as  natural  as  thofe  of  the  Dutch  Painters.  The  ftudy, 
therefore,  of  the  nature  or  affections  of  the  mind  is  as  necef- 
fary  to  the  theory  of  the  higher  department  of  art,  as  the 
knowledge  of  what  will  be  pieafing  orofFenfive  to.  the  eye, .  is 
to  the  lower  ftile. 

What  relates  to  the  mind  or  imagination,  fuch  as  Invention, 
Character,  ExprefTion,  Grace,  or  Grandeur,  certainly  cannot 
be  taught  by  rules ;  little  more  can  be  done  than  pointing  out 
where  they  are  to  be  found  :  it  is  a  part  which  belongs  to  ge- 
neral education,  and  will  operate  in  proportion  to  the  culti- 
vation of  the  mind -of  the  Artifr: 

The  greater  part  of  the  rules  in  this  Poem  are,  therefore, 
neceflarily  confined  to  what  relates  to  the  eye;  and  it  may  be 
remarked,  that  none  of  trrofe  rules  make  any  pretenlions  to- 
wards improving  Nature,  or  going  contrary  to  her  work ; 
their  tendency  is  merely  to  mew  what  is  truly  Nature. 

Thus,  for  inftance,  a  flowing  outline  is  recommended,  be- 
caufe  Beauty  (which  alone  is  Nature)  cannot  be  produced 
without  it;  old  age  or  leannefs  produces  ft  rait  lines;  corpu- 
lency round  lines;  but  in  a  ftate  of  health,  accompanying 
youth,  the  outlines  are  waving,  flowing,  and  ferpentine  :  Thus 
again,  if  we  are  told  to  avoid  the  chalk,  the  brick,  or  the 
leaden  colour,  it  js  becaufe  real  flefh  never  partakes  of  thofe 
hues,  tho'  ill-coloured  pictures  are  always  inclinable  to  one 
or.  other  of  thofe  defeds. 

Rules  are  to  be  confidered  likewife  as  fences  placed  only 
w*here  trefpafs  is  expefted;  and  are  particularly  enforced  in. 

P  3  proportion 


n8  NOTES. 

proportion  as  peculiar  faults  or  defects  are  prevalent  at  the 
time,  or  age,  in  which  they  are  delivered ;  for  what  may  be 
proper  ftrongly  to  recommend  or  enforce  in  one  age,  may  not 
with  equal  propriety  be  fo  much  laboured  in  another,  when  it 
may  be  the  fafhion  for  Artifts  to  run  into  the  contrary  ex- 
treme, proceeding  from  prejudice  to  a  manner  adopted  by  fome 
favourite  Painter  then  in  vogue. 

When  it  is  recommended  to  preferve  a  breadth  of  colour  or 
of  light,  it  is  not  intended  that  the  Artift  is  to  work. broader 
than  Nature ;  but  this  leflbn  is  infilled  on  becaufe  we  know, 
from  experience,  that  the  contrary  is  a  fault  which  Artifts  are 
apt  to  be  guilty  of;  who,  when  they  are  examining  and  finifti- 
ing  the  detail,  neglect  or  forget  that  breadth  which  is  obfer- 
.vable  only  when  the  eye  takes  in  the  -effect  of  the  whole. 

Thus  again,  we  recommend  to  paint  foft  and  tender,  to 
make  a  harmony  and  union  of  colouring;  and,  for  this  end, 
that  all  the  fhadows  lhall  be  nearly  of  the  fame  colour.  The 
reafon  of  thefe  precepts  being  at  all  enforced,  proceeds  from 
the  difpofition  which  Artifts  have  to  paint  harder  than  Nature, 
to  make  the  outline  more  cutting  againft  the  ground,  and  to 
have  lefs  harmony  and  union  than  is  found  in  Nature,  prefer- 
ving  the  fame  brightnefs  of  colour  in  the  (hadows  as  are  feen 
in  the  lights  :  both  thefe  falfe  manners  of  reprefenting  Nature 
were  the  practice  of  the  Painters  when  the  art  was  in  its  in- 
fancy, and  would  be  the  practice  now  of  every  ftudent  who 
was  left  to  himfelf,  and  had  never  been  taught  the  art  of 
feeing  Nature. 

There  are  other  rules  which  may  be  faid  not  fo  much  to 
relate  to  the  objects  reprefented  as  to  the  eye;  but  the  truth 
of  thefe  are  as  much  fixed  in  Nature  as  the  others,  and  pro- 
ceed from  the  neceffity  there  is  that  the  work  fhould  be  feen 
with  eafe  and  fatisfaction ;  to  this  end  are  all  the  rules  that 
relate  to  grouping  and  the  difpofition  of  light  and  fhade. 

With 


NOTES.  119 

With  regard  to  precepts  about  moderation,  and  avoiding  ex- 
tremes, little  is  to  be  drawn  from  them  :  The  rule  would  be 
too  minute  that  had  any  exadnefs  at  all :  a  multiplicity  of  ex- 
ceptions would  arife,  fo  that  the  teacher  would  be  for  ever 
faying  too  much,  and  yet  never  enough  :  When  a  ftudent  is 
inftructed  to  mark  with  precifion  every  part  of  his  figure, 
whether  it  be  naked,  or  in  drapery,  he  probably  becomes 
hard ;  if,  on  the  contrary,  he  is  told  to  paint  the  moft  tenderly, 
poffibly  he  becomes  infipid.  But  among  extremes  fome  are 
more  tolerable  than  others  -,  of  the  two  extremes  I  have  jufl 
mentioned,  the  hard  manner  is  the  moft  pardonable,  as  it 
carries  with  it  an  air  of  learning,  as  if  the  Artifl  knew  with 
precifion  the  true  form  of  Nature,  though  he  had  rendered  it 
with  too  heavy  a  hand. 

.  In  every  part  of  the  human  figure,  when  not  fpoiled  by  too 
great  corpulency,  will  be  found  this  diftinclnefs,  the  parts 
never  appearing  uncertain  or  confufed,  or,  as  a  Muiician 
would  fay,  flurred  ;  and  all  thefe  fmaller  parts  which  are  com- 
prehended in  the  larger  compartment  are  flill  to  be  there, 
however  tenderly  marked. 

To  conclude.  In  all  minute,  detailed,  and  practical  excel- 
lence, general  precepts  mufr.  be  either  deficient  or  unnecefTary: 
For  the  rule  is  not  known,  nor  is  it  indeed  to  any  purpofe  a 
rule,  if  it  be  necefTary  to  inculcate  it  on  every  occafion.  R. 

NOTE   LVII.     VERSE  772.. 
Whence  Art,  by  Prafiice,  to  Perfection  foars. 
After  this  the  Poet  fays,  that  he  pafTes  over  in  filence  many 
things  which  will  be  more  amply  treated  in  his  Commentary. 

"  Multa  fuperfileo  qus  Commentaria  dicent." 
But  as  he  never  lived  to  write  that  Commentary,  his  tranflator 
has  taken  the  liberty  to  pafs  over  this  line  in  filence  alfo. 

'M. 
NOTE 


120  NOTES. 

NOTE   LVIII.     VERSE  775. 
What  time  the  Pride  of  Bourbon  urgd  his  way,  6cc. 
Du  Piles,  and  after  him  Dryden,  call  this  Hero  Louis  XIII. 
but  the  later  French  Editor,  whom   I  have   before  quoted, 
will  needs  have  him  to  be  the  XlVth.     His  note  is  as  follows  : 
"  At  the  accefllon  of  Louis  XIV.  Du  Frefnoy  had  been  ten 
years   at  Rome,   therefore   the  epoch,  marked   by  the  Poet, 
falls  probably  upon  the  firft  years  of  that  Prince ;   that  is   to 
fay,   upon  the  years  1643  or  1644.     The  thunders  which  he 
darts  on  the  Alps,  allude  to  the  fuccefTes  of  our  arms  in  the 
Milanefe,  and  in  Piedmont;  and  the  Alcides,  who  is  born  again 
in  France  for  the  defence  of  his  country,   is  the  conqueror  of 
Rocroy,  the  young  Duke  of  Anguien,   afterwards  called  Le 
Grand  Conde."    I  am  apt  to  fufped:  that  all  this  fine  criticifm 
is  falfe,  though  I  do  not  think  it  worth  while  to  controvert  it. 
Whether  the  Poet  meant   to  compliment  Louis  XIII.  or  the 
little  boy  that  fucceeded  him,  (for  he  was  only  fix  years  old  in. 
the  year  1644)  he  was  guilty  of  grofs  flattery.    It  is  impoffible, 
however,  from  the  conftruclion  of  the  fentence,  that  Lodovicus 
Borbonidum  Decus,  &  Gallicus  Alcides,  could  mean  any  more 
than  one  identical  perfon;  and  confequently  the  Editor's  notion 
.concerning  the  Grand  Conde   is    indifputably  falfe.     I  have, 
therefore,   taken   the  whole    paiTage    in  the  fame  fenfe   that 
Du  Piles  did ;  and  have  alfo,  like  him,  ufed  the  Poet's  phrafe 
of  the  Spanijh  Lion  in   the  concluding  line,  rather   than  that 
of  the  Spanifh  Geryon,  to   which   Mr.   Dryden  has   trans- 
formed him :   His  reafon,  I  fuppofe,  for  doing  this  was,   that 
.the  monfter  Geryon  was  of  Spanifh  extraction,   and  the  Ne- 
mean  Lion,  which  Hercules  killed,  was  of  Peloponnefus  j  but 
we  are  told  by  Martial*,  that  there  was  a  fountain  in  Spain 
called  Nemea,   which,    perhaps,    led  Frefnoy  aftray  in   this 

paflage. 

*  Avidam  rigens  Dircenna  placabit  firim 

Et  Nemea  quz  vincit  nives.         Mart.  lib.  5.  Epig.  50.  tie  Hifp.  lac, 


NOTES.  i2i 

paflage.  However  this  be,  Hercules  killed  fo  many  lions, 
befides  that  which  conflicted  the  firft  of  his  twelve  labours, 
that  either  he,  or  at  leaft  fome  one  of  his  numerous  namefakes, 
may  well  be  fuppofed  to  have  killed  one  in  Spain.  Geryon  is 
defcribed  by  all  the  poets  as  a  man  with  three  heads,  and 
therefore  could  not  well  have  been  called  a  Lion  by  Frefnoy  • 
neither  does  the  plural  Ora  mean  any  more  than  the  Jaws  of  a 
fingle  beafl.  So  Lucan,  lib.  iv.  ver.  739. 

Quippe  ubi  non  Sonipes  motus  clangore  tubarum 

Saxa  quatit  pulfu,  rigidos  vexantia  fraenos 

ORA  terens M. 

NOTE    LIX.     VERSE   785. 
But  mark  the  Proteus  Policy  of  Sfate* 

If  this  tranflation  Should  live  as  many  years  as  the  original 
has  done  already,  which,  by  its  being  printed  with  that  ori- 
ginal, and  illuftrated  by  fuch  a  Commentator,  is  a  thing  not 
impoffible,  it  may  not  be  amifs,  in  order  to  prevent  an  hal- 
lucination of  fome  future  critic,  fimilar  to  that  of  the  French 
Editor  mentioned  in  the  laft  note,  to  conclude  with  a  memo- 
randum that  the  tranflation  was  finifhed,  and  thefe  occafional 
verfes  added,  in  the  year  1781  ;  leaving,  however,  the  poli- 
tical fentiments,  which  they  exprefs,  to  be  approved  or  con- 
demned by  him,  as  the  annals  of  the  time  (written  at  a  period 
diflant  enough  for  hiftory  to  become  impartial)  may  determine 
his  judgment.  M. 

END  OF  THE  NOTES. 


The 


The  Precepts  which  Sir  JOSHUA  REYNOLDS  has 
illuftrated  are  marked  in  the  following  Table  with 
one  or  more  Afterifks,  according  to  the  Number  of 
his  Notes. 


A 

TABLE 


OF       T  H 


RULES 

CONTAINED  IN  THE  FOREGOING 

•; I' ::::&: J'^:,.    E      M. 

I.    S~\  F  the  Beautiful  ***      Page  5 

II-  V>/  Of  Theory  and  Practice  *  *         7 

III.  Of  the  Subjedl  *         9 

INVENTION,  the  firft  part  of  Painting  *  *         g 

IV.  Difpofition,  or  oeconomy  of  the  whole      —     10 

V.  The  Subject  to  be  treated  faithfully  *     —          Io 

VI.  Every  foreign  Ornament  to  be  rejected  *  *  *     , I  r 

VII.  DESIGN,  or  POSITION,  thefecondpartof  Painting  **  13 

VIII.  Variety  in  the  Figures          —         — —  j^ 

IX.  Conformity  of  the  Limbs  and  Drapery  to  the  Head  *  1 5 

X.  Action  of  Mutes  to  be  imitated  *         •     .  .  15 

XI.  The  Principal  Figure  *           16 

XII.  Groups  of  Figures              — -         — —             16 

XIII.  Diverfity  of  Attitude  in  Groups  *         —            —  17 

XIV.  A  Balance  to  be  kept  in  the  Picture             !^ 

XV.  Of  the  Number  of  Figures  *  *         jg 

XVI.  The  Joints  and  Feet Io 

XVII.  The  Motion  of  the  Hands  with  the  Head      19 

XVIII.  What  Things  are  to  be  avoided  in  the  Diftribu- 
tion  of  the  Piece         _—             20 

Qjs  XIX.  Nature 


124        TABLE     oFTHERULES. 

XIX.  Nature  to  be  accommodated  to  Genius  *  —     Page  21 

XX.  The  Antique  the  Model  to  be  copied      — 21 

XXI.  How  to  paint  a  fingle  Figure  *         -         22 

XXII.  Of  Drapery  *                                                   23 

XXIII.  Of  pidurefque  Ornament         25 

XXIV.  Ornament  of  Gold  and  Jewels  * 25 

XXV.  Of  the  Model                                                25 

XXVI.  Union  of  the  Piece            25 

XXVII.  Grace  and  Majefty  *         —         25 

XXVIII.  Every  Thing  in  its  proper  Place             26 

XXIX.  The  Paffions  *  *                        26 

XXX.  Gothic  Ornament  to  be  avoided                        • 27 

COLOURING,  the  third  part  of  Painting  *       .  29 

XXXI.  The  Conduct  of  the  Tints  of  Light  and  Shadow  31 

XXXII.  Denfe  and  opake  Bodies  with  tranflucent  ones  34 

XXXIII.  There  muft  not  be  tv/o  equal  Lights  in   the 

Pidure  *  *  *               35 

XXXIV.  Of  White  and  Black           37 

XXXV.  The  Reflexion  of  Colours         37 

XXXVI.  The  Union  of  Colours  *                         38 

XXXVII.  Of  the  Interpolation  of  Air                       39 

XXXVIII.  The  Relation  of  Diftances         —           39 

XXXIX.  Of  Bodies  which  are  diftanced          —          —  40 

XL.   Of  contiguous  and  feparated  Bodies       —         40 

XLI.  Colours  very  oppofite  to  each  other  never  to   be 

XLII.  Diverfity  of  Tints  and  Colours       —         

XLIII.  The  Choice  of  Light         

XLIV.   Of  certain  Things  relating  to  the  practical  Part 

XLV.  The  Field  of  the  Pidure  *         

XLVI.   Of  the  Vivacity  of  Colours  *        — 
XLVII.  Of  Shadows   '  


TABLE    OF    THERULES.  125 

XLVIII.  The  Pifture  to  be  of  one  Piece         Page  43 

XLIX.  The  Looking-glafs  the  Painter's  beft  Mafter    —  44 

L.  An  half  Figure,  or  a  whole  one  before  others  *•    —  44 

LI.  A  Portrait            — 44 

LII.  The  Place  of  the  Picture           . 45 

LIU.  Large  Lights          — «          45 

LIV.  The  Quantity  of  Light  and  Shade  to  be.  adapted  to 

the  Place  of  the  Picture         — - — 46 

LV.  Things   which  are  difagreeable  in  Painting  to  be 

LVI.  The  prudential  Part  of  a  Painter      —         __  ^j 

LV1I.  The  Idea  of  a  beautiful  Picture         —          47 

LVIII.  Advice  to  a  young  Painter  *  *         —          . 48 

LIX.  Art  muft  be  fubfervient  to  the  Painter             49 

LX.  Diverfity  and"  Facility  are  pleating  *               49 

LXI.  The  Original  muft  be  in  the  Head,  and  the  Copy 

on  the  Clotb                             •                    50 

LXII.  The  Compafs  to  be  in  the  Eyes  *         —           —  50 

LXIII.  Pride,  an  Enemy  to  good  Painting  *'       51 

LXIV.  Know  thyfelf                                                   52 

LXV.  Perpetually  practife,  and  do  eafily  what  you  have 

LXVI.  The  Morning'  mod  proper  for  Work         53 

LXVII.  Every  Day  do  fomething •  53 

LXVIII.  The  Method  of  catching  natural  Paflions      —  53 

LXIX.  Of  the  Table-BooL*  *                             54 

LXX.  The  Method  of  Studies  for  a  young  Painter  *  *  *  *  58 

LXXI.  Nature  and  Experience  perfect  Art  *         62 


APPENDIX. 


A   P,  P  E  N  D  I  X. 


The 


The  following  little  piece  has  been  conftantly 
annexed  to  M.  DU  FRESNOY'S  Poem.  It  is  here 
given  from  the  former  Editions ;  •  but  the  liberty 
has  been  taken  of  making  fome  alterations  in  the 
Verlion,  fwhich,  when  compared  with  the  Original 
in  French,  appeared  either  to  be  done  very  carelefly 
by  Mr.  DRYDEN,  or  (what  is  more  probable)  to  be 
the  work  of  fome  inferior  hand  which  he  employed 
on  the  occafion. 


THE 


THE 


SENTIMENTS 


CHARLES  ALPHONSE  DU  FRESNOY, 


On  the  WORKS  of  the 


Principal  and  beft  PAINTERS  of  the  two  laft  Ages. 


THE 


THE 


O    F 

CHARLES  ALPHONSE  DU  FRESNOY, 

On  the  WORKS  of  the 
Principal  and  beft  PAINTERS  of  the  two  laft  Ages. 

PAINTING  was  in  its  perfection  amongft  the  Greeks. 
The  principal  fchools  were  at  Sycion,  afterwards  at 
Rhodes,  at  Athens,  and  at  Corinth,  and  at  laft  in  Rome. 
Wars  and  Luxury  having  overthrown  the  Roman  Empire,  it 
was  totally  extinguifhed,  together  with  all  the  noble  Arts, 
the  ftudies  of  Humanity,  and  the  other  Sciences. 

It  began  to  appear  again  in  the  year  1450,  amongft  fome 
Painters  of  Florence,  of  which  DOMENICO  GHIRLANDAIO 
was  one,  who  was  Matter  to  Michael  Angelo,  and  had  fome 
kind  of  reputation,  though  his  manner  was  Gothic,  and  very 
dry. 

MICHAEL  ANGELO,  his  Difciple,  flourifhed  in  the  times 
of  Julius  II.  Leo  X.  and  of  feven  fucceflive  Popes.  He  was 
a  Painter,  a  Sculptor,  and  an  Architect,  both  civil  and  mili- 
tary. The  choice  which  he  made  of  his  attitudes  was  not 
always  beautiful  or  pleafing  -,  his  gufto  of  defign  was  not  the 
fineft,  nor  his  outlines  the  mofl  elegant;  -the  folds  of  his 
draperies,  and  the  ornaments  of  his  habits,  were  neither  noble 
nor  graceful.  He  was  not  a  little  fantaftical  and  extravagant 
in  his  compofitions  ;  he  was  bold,  even  to  rafhnefs,  in  taking 

R  2  liberties 


i32  APPENDIX. 

liberties  againft  the  rules  of  Perfpe&ive ;  his  colouring  is  not 
over  true,  or  very  pleafant :  He  knew  not  the  artifice  of  light 
and  lhadow;  but  he  defigned  more  learnedly,  and  better 
underftood  all  the  knittings  of  the  bones,  and  the  office  and 
lituation  of  the  mufcles,  than  any  of  the  modern  Painters, 
There  appears  a  certain  air  of  greatnefs  and  feverity  in  his 
figures ;  in  both  which  he  has  oftentimes  fucceeded.  But 
above  the  reft  of  his  excellencies,  was  his  wonderful  fkill  in 
Architecture,  wherein  he  has  not  only  furpaffed  all  the  mo- 
derns, but  even  the  antients  alfo;  the  St.  Peter's  of  Rome, 
the  St.  John's  of  Florence,  the  Capitol,  the  Palazzo  Farnefe, 
and  his  own  Houfe,  are  fufficient  teftimonies  of  it.  His  dif- 
ciples  were,  Marcello  Venufli,  II  RofTo,  Georgio  Vafari,  Fra. 
Baftiano,  (who  commonly  painted  for  him)  and  many  other 
Florentines. 

PIETRO  PERUGINO  defigned  with  fufficient  knowledge  of 
Nature  ;  but  he  is  dry,  and  his  manner  little.  His  Difciple 
was 

RAPHAEL  SANTIO,  who  was  born  on  Good-Friday,  in  the 
year  1483,  and  died  on  Good-Friday,  in  the  year  1520;  fo 
that  he  lived  only  thirty-feven  years  compleat.  He  furpafled 
all  modern  Painters,  becaufe  he  pofTefled  more  of  the  excel- 
lent parts  of  Painting  than  any  other  >  and  it  is  believed  that 
he  equalled  the  antients,  excepting  only  that  he  defigned  not 
naked  bodies  with  fo  much  learning  as  Michael  Angelo ;  but 
his  gufto  of  delign  is  purer,  and  much  better.  He  painted 
not  with  fo  good,  fo  full,  and  fo  graceful  a  manner  as  Cor- 
j-eggio;  nor  has  he  any  thing  of  the  contrail:  of  light  and 
fhadow,  or  fo  ftrong  and  free  a  colouring  as  Titian  -,  but  he 
had  a  better  difpofition  in  his  pieces,  without  comparifon, 
than  either  Titian,  Correggio,  Michael  Angelo,  or  all  the  reft 
of  the  fucceeding  Painters  to  our  days.  His  choice  of  atti- 
tudes, 


APPENDIX.  133 

tudes,  of  heads,  of  ornaments,  the  arrangement  of  his  drapery, 
his  manner  of  defigning,  his  variety,  his  contraft,  his  ex- 
preffion,  were  beautiful  in  perfection;  but  above  all,  he  pof- 
fe/Ted  the  Graces  in  fo  advantageous  a  manner,  that  he  has 
never  fince  been  equalled  by  any  other.  There  are  portraits 
(or  fingle  figures)  of  his,  which  are  well  executed.  He  was 
an  admirable  Architect.  He  was  handfome,  well-made,  civil 
and  good-natured,  never  refufing  to  teach  another  what  he 
knew  himfelf.  He  had  many  fcholars ;  amongft  others,  Julio 
Romano,  Polydore,  Gaudenzio,  Giovanni  d'Udine,  and  Mi- 
chael Coxis.  His  Graver  was  Mark  Antonio.,  whofe  prints 
are  admirable  for  the  correctnefs  of  their  outlines* 

JULIO  ROMANO   was   the  moil  excellent  of  all  Raphael's 
Difciples:  He  had  conceptions  which  were  more  extraordinary, 
more  profound,  and  more  elevated  .than^even  his  Mailer  him- 
felf;  he  was  alfo.  a  great  Architect ;  his  gufto  was  pure  and    . 
exquifite.     He  was  a  great  imitator  of  the  antients,   giving  a 
clear  teftimony  in  all  his  productions,   that  he  was  defirous  to 
reftore  to  practice   the  fame  forms  and  fabrics  which   were 
antient.     He  had  the  good  fortune  to- find  great  perfons,  who 
committed  to  him, the  care  of  edifices,  veftibules,  and  por- 
ticoes,  all  tetraftyles,  xiftes,  theatres,  and  fuch  other  places 
as  are  not  now. in-ufe.-.    He  was  wonderful  in  his  choice  of 
attitudes.     His.  manner*  was  drier  and   harder  than    any   of 
Raphael's  fchool.     He  did  not  exactly  underfland  either  light 
and 'madow,    or  colouring.     He  is  frequently  har£h  and  un- 
oraceful ;   the  folds  of  his  draperies  are,  neither  beautiful  nor 
great,   eafy  nor  natural,   but  all  of  them -imaginary,  and  too 
like  the  habits  of  fantaftical  comedians.     He  v/as  well  verfed 
in  polite  learning.     His  Difciples  were  Pirro  Ligorio,   (who 
was    admirable   for   antique    buildings,    as   towns,    temples, 

R  3  tombs* 


i34  A      P      P      E      N      D      I      X. 

tombs,   and  trophies,   and  the  fituation   of  antient  edifices) 
^neas  Vico,  Bonafone,  Georgio  Mantuano,  and  others. 

POXYDORE,  a  Difciple  of  Raphael,  defigned  admirably  well 
as  to  the  practical  part,  having  a  particular  genius  for  freezes, 
as  we  may  fee  by  thqfe  of  white  and  black,  which  he  has 
painted  at  Rome.  He  imitated  the  Antients,  but  his  manner 
was  greater  than  that  of  Julio  Romano ;  neverthelefs  Julio 
feems  to  be  the  truer.  Some  admirable  groups  are  feen  in  his 
works,  and  fuch  as  are  not  elfewhere  to  be  found.  He  coloured 
very  feldom,  and  made  landfcapes  in  a  tolerably  good  tafte. 

Gio.  BELLING,  one  of  the  firft  who  was  of  any  confidera- 
tion  at  Venice,  painted  very  drily,  according  to  the  manner 
of  his  time.  He  was  very  knowing  both  in  Architecture  and 
Perfpective.  He  was  Titian's  firft  Matter.;  which  may  eafily 
be  obferved  in  the  earlier  works  of  that  noble  Difciple;  in 
which  we  may  remark  that  propriety  of  colours  which  his 
Matter  has  obferved. 

About  this  time  GEORGIONE,  the  cotemporary  of  Titian, 
came  to  excel  in  portraits  and  alfo  in  greater  works.  He  firft 
began  to  make  choice  of  glowing  and  agreeable  colours ;  the 
perfection  and  entire  harmony  of  which  were  afterwards  to  be 
found  in  Titian's  pictures.  He  drefled  his  figures  wonderfully 
well":  And  it  may  be  truly  faid,  that  but  for  him,  Titian  had 
never  arrived  to  that  height  of  perfection,  which  proceeded 
from  the  rival  (hip  and  jealoufy  which  prevailed  between  them. 

TITIAN  was  one  of  the  geateft  colourifts  ever  known  :  He 
defigned  with  much  more  eafe  and  pradice  than  Georgione. 
There  are  to  be  feen  women  and  children  of  his  hand,  which 
are  admirable  both  for  defign  and  colouring ;  the  gufto  of 
them  is  delicate,  charming,  and  noble,  with  a  certain  pleafing 
negligence  in  the  head-drefles,  draperies,  and  ornaments,  which 
are  wholly  peculiar  to  himfelf.  As  for  the  figures  of  men,  he 

has 


APPENDIX.  135 

has  defigned  them  but  moderately  well :  There  are  even  fome 
of  his  draperies  which  are  mean,  and  in  a  little  tafte.  His 
Painting  is  wonderfully  glowing,  fweet  and  delicate.  He 
drew  portraits,  which  were  extremely  noble ;  the  attitudes  of 
them  being  very  graceful,  grave,  diverfified,  and  adorned  after 
a  very  becoming  fafhion.  No  man  ever  painted  landfcape  in 
fo  great  a  manner,  fo  well  coloured,  and  with  fuch  Truth  of 
Nature.  For  eight  or  ten  years  fpace,  he  copied,  with  great 
labour  and  exactnefs,  whatfoever  he  undertook;  thereby  to 
make  himfelf  an  eafy  way,  and  to  eftablifti  fome  general 
maxims  for  his  future  conduct.  Befides  the  excellent  gufto 
which  he  had  in  colouring,  in  which  he  excelled  all  mortal 
men,  he  perfectly  underftood  how  to  give  every  thing  thofe 
touches  which  were  moft  fuitable  and  proper  to  them;  fuch 
as  diftinguifhed  them  from  each  other,  and  which  gave  the 
greateft  fpirit,  and  the  moft  of  truth.  The  pictures  which  he 
made  in  his  beginning,  and  in  the  declenfion  of  his  age,  are  of 
a  dry  and  mean  manner.  He  lived  ninety-nine  years.  His 
Difciples  were  Paulo  Veronefe,  Giacomo  Tintoret,  Giacomo 
da  Ponte  Baffano,  and  his  fons. 

PAULO  VERONESE  was  wonderfully  graceful  in  his  airs  of 
women,  with  great  variety  of  brilliant  draperies,  and  incredible 
vivacity  and  eafe;  neverthelefs  his  corhpofition  is  fometimes 
improper,  and  his  defign  incorrect :  but  his  colouring,  and 
whatfoever  depends  on  it,  is  fo  very  charming  in  his  pictures, 
that  it  furprizes  at  the  firft  fight,  and  makes  us  totally  forget 
thofe  other  qualities  in  which  he  fails. 

TINTORET  was  the  Difciple  of  Titian  ;  great  in  defign  and 
practice,  but  fometimes  alfo  greatly  extravagant.  He  had 
an  admirable  genius  for  Painting,  but  not  fo  great  an  affection 
for  his  art,  or  patience  in  the  executive  part  of  it,  as  he  had 
fire  and  vivacity  of  Nature.  He  yet  has  made  pitf  ures  not 

inferior 


APPENDIX. 

inferior  in  beauty  to  thofe  of  Titian.  His  competition  and 
decorations  are  for  the  moft  part  rude,  and  his  outlines  are 
incorrect;  but  his  colouring,  and  all,  that  depends  upon  it,  is 
admirable.  /> 

The  BASS  ANS  had  a  more  mean  and  poor  gufto  in  Painting 
than  Tintoret,  and  their  defigns  were  alfo  lefs  correct  than  his. 
They  had  indeed  an  excellent  manner  of  colouring,  and  have 
touched  all  kinds  of  anim&ls  •  with  an  admirable  hand ;  but 
were  notorioufly  imperfect  in  compoiition  and  defign. 

CORREGGIO  painted  at  Parma  two  large  cupola's  in  frefco, 
and  fome  altar-pieces.  This  artlft  ftruck  out  certain  natural 
and  unaffected  graces  for  his  Madonna's,  his  Saints,  and  little 
Children,  .which  were  peculiar  to  himfelf.  His  manner,  de- 
fign, and  execution  are  all  very  great,  but  yet  without  correct- 
nefs.  HeJiad  a  moft  free  and  delightful  pencil;  and  it  is  to 
be  acknowledged,  that  he  painted  with  a  ftrength,  relief, 
fweetnefs,  and  vivacity  of  colouring,  which  nothing  ever  ex- 
ceeded. He.  underftood  how  to  diftribute  his  lights  in  fuch  a 
manner,  as  was  wholly  peculiar  to  himfelf,  which  gave  a  great 
force  and  great  roundnefs  to  his  figures.  This  manner  con- 
fifts  in  extending  a  large  light,  and  then  making  it  lofe  itfelf 
infenfibly  in  the  dark  fhadowings,  which  he  placed  out  of  the 
mafles;  and  thofe  give  them  this  great  relief,  without  our 
being  able  to  perceive  from  whence  proceeds  fo  much  effect, 
and  fo  vaft  a  pleafure  to  the  fight.  It  appears,  that  in  this  part 
the  reft  of  the  Lombard  School  copied  him.  He  had  no  great 
choice  of  graceful  attitudes,  or  diftribution  of  beautiful  groups. 
His  defign  oftentimes  appears  lame,  and  his  pofitions  not  well 
chofen  :  The  look  of  his  figures  is  often  unpleafing ;  but  his 
manner  of  defigning  heads,  hands,  feet,  and  other  parts,  is  very 
great,  and  well  deferves  our  imitation.  In  the  conduct  ami 
of  a.pidure,  he  has  done  wonders;  for  he  painted 

with 


APPENDIX.  137 

with  fo  much  union,  that  his  greateft  works  feem  to  have 
been  finished  in  the  compafs  of  one  day  -,  and  appear  as  if  we 
faw  them  in  a  looking-glafs.  His  landfcape  is  equally  beau- 
tiful with  his  figures. 

At  the  fame  time  with  Correggio,  lived  and  flourifhed 
PARMEGIANO;  who,  befides  his  great  manner  of  colouring, 
excelled  alfo  both  in  invention  and  defign;  with  a  genius  full 
of  delicacy  and  fpirit,  having  nothing  that  was  ungraceful  in 
his  choice  of  attitudes,  or  in  the  drefles  of  his  figures,  which 
we  cannot  fay  of  Correggio ;  there  are  pieces  of  Parmegiano's, 
very  beautiful  and  correct. 

Thefe  two  Painters  laft  mentioned  had  very  good  Difciples, 
but  they  are  known  only  to  thofe  of  their  own  province -,  and 
befides,  there  is  little  to  be  credited  of  what  his  countrymen 
fay,  for  Painting  is  wholly  extinguimed  amongft  them. 

I  fiy  nothing  of  LEONARDO  DA  VINCI,  becaufe  I  have  feen 
but  little  of  his ;  though  he  reftored  the  arts  at  Milan,  and 
had  there  many  Scholars. 

LUDOVICO  CARRACHE,  the  Coufm  German  of  Hannibal 
and  Auguftino,  fludied  at  Parma  after  Correggio ;  and  excelled 
in  deiign  and  colouring,  with  a  grace  and  clearnefs,  which 
Guido,  the  Scholar  of  Hannibal,  afterwards  imitated  with 
great  fuccefs.  There  are  fome  of  his  pictures  to  be  feen,  which 
are  very  beautiful,  and  well  underflood.  He  made  his  ordi- 
nary refidence  at  Bologna  j  and  it  was  he  who  put  the  pencil 
into  the  hands  of  Hannibal  his  Coufm. 

HANNIBAL,  in  a  little  time,  excelled  his  Matter  in  all  parts 
of  Painting.  He  imitated  Correggio,  Titian,  and  Raphael,  in 
their  different  manners  as  he  pleafed ;  excepting  only,  that 
you  fee  not  in  his  pictures  the  noblenefs,  the  graces,  and  the 
charms  of  Raphael  -y  and  his  outlines  are  neither  fo  pure,  nor 
fo  elegant  as  his.  In  all  other  things  he  is  wonderfully  ac- 
complilhed,  and  of  an  univerfal  genius. 

S  AUGUSTIN®, 


138  A      P       P       E       N       D       I       X. 

AUGUSTINO,  brother  to  Hannibal,  was  alfo  a  very  good 
Painter,  and  an  admirable  graver.  He  had  a  natural  fon,  call- 
ed ANTONIO,  who  died  at  the  age  of  thirty-five  -,  and  who 
(according  to  the  general  opinion)  would  have  furpafled  his 
uncle  Hannibal :  For,  by  what  he  left  behind  him,  it  appears 
that  he  was  of  a  more  lofty  genius. 

GUIDO  chiefly  imitated  Ludovico  Carrache,  yet  retained 
always  fomewhat  of  the  manner  which  his  Mafter  Denis  Cal- 
yert,  the  Fleming,  taught  him.  This  Calvert  lived  at  Bolog- 
na, and  was  competitor  and  rival  to  Ludovico  Carrache.  Guido 
made  the  fame  uie  of  Albert  Durer  as  Virgil  did  of  old  Ennius, 
borrowed  what  pleafed  him,  and  made  it  afterwards  his  own  j 
that  is,  he  accommodated  what  was  good  in  Albert  to  his  own 
manner;  which  he  executed  with  fo  much  gracefulnefs  and 
beauty,  that  he  got  more  money  and  reputation  in  his  time 
than  any  of  his  Matters,  and  than  all  the  Scholars  of  the  Car- 
raches,  tho'  they  were  of  greater  capacity  than  himfelf.  His 
heads  yield  no  manner  of  precedence  to  thofe  of  Raphael. 

SISTO  BADOLOCCHI  deiigned  the  beft  of  all  his  Difciples, 
but  he  died  young. 

DOMENICHINO  was  a  very  knowing  Painter,  and  very  labo- 
rious, but  of  no  great  natural  endowments.  It  is  true,  he  was 
profoundly  fkilled  in  all  the  parts  of  Painting,  but  wanting 
genius  (as  I  faid)  he  had  lefs  of  noblenefs  in  his  works  than 
all  the  reft  who  ftudied  in  the  School  of  the  Carraches. 

ALBANI  was  excellent  in  all  the  parts  of  Painting,  and  a 
polite  fcholar. 

LANFRANC,  a  man  of  a  great  and  fprightly  wit,  fupported 
his  reputation  for  a  long  time  with  an  extraordinary  gufto  of 
defign  and  colouring :  But  his  foundation  being  only  on  the 
practical  part,  he  at  length  loft  ground  in  point  of  correitneis, 
fo  that  many  of  his  pieces  appear  extravagant  and  fantaftical  ; 

and 


APPENDIX.  139 

and  after  his  deceafe,  the  fchool  of  the  Carraches  went  daily 
to  decay,  in  all  the  parts  of  Painting. 

Gio.  VIOLA  was  very  old  before  he  iearned  landfcape; 
the  knowledge  of  which  was  imparted  to  him  hy  Hannibal 
Carrache,  who  took  pleafure  to  inftrucl:  him ;  fo  that  he 
painted  many  of  that  kind,  which  are  wonderfully  fine,  and 
well  coloured. 

If  we  caft  our  eyes  towards  Germany  and  the  Low  Coun- 
tries, we  may  there  behold  ALBERT  DURER,  LUCAS  VAN 
LEYDEN,  HOLBEIN,  ALDEGRAVE,  &c.  who  were  all  co- 
temporaries.  Amongft  thefe,  Albert  Durer  and  Holbein  were 
both  of  them  wonderfully  knowing,  and  had  certainly  been 
of  the  firft  form  of  Painters,  had  they  travelled  into  Italy;  for 
nothing  can  be  laid  to  their  charge,  but  only  that  they  had  a 
Gothic  guflo.  As  for  Holbein,  his  execution  furpalTed  even 
that  of  Raphael ;  and  I  have  feen  a  portrait  of  his  painting, 
with  which  one  of  Titian's  could  not  come  in  competition. 

Amongft  the  Flemings,  appeared  RUBENS,  who  had,  from 
his  birth,  a  lively,  free,  noble,  and  univerfal  genius :  A  genius 
capable  not  only  of  railing  him  to  the  rank  of  the  antient 
Painters,  but  alib  to  the  higheil  employments  in  the  fervice 
of  his  country;  fo  that  he  was  chofen  for  one  of  the  moil 
important  embarHes  in  our  time.  His  gufto  of  defign  favours 
fomewhat  more  of  the  Flemim  than  of  the  beauty  of  the  an- 
tique, becaufe  he  (layed  not  long  at  Rome.  And  though  we 
cannot  but  obferve  in  all  his  Paintings  ideas  which  are  great 
and  noble,  yet  it  muft  be  confefTed,  that,  generally  fpeaking, 
he  defigned  not  correctly;  but,  for  all  the  other  parts  of 
Painting,  he  was  as  abfolute  a  matter  of  them,  and  pofleffed 
them  all  as  thoroughly  as  any  of  his  predeceilbrs  in  that  noble 
art.  His  principal  fludies  were  made  in  Lombardy,  after  the 
works  of  Titian,  Paulo  Veronefe,  and  Tintoret,  whofe  cream 

S  2  he 


1 40  APPENDIX. 

he  has  fkimmed,  (if  you  will  allow  the  phrafe)  and  extra&ed 
from  their  feveral  beauties  many  general  maxims  and  infallible 
rules  which  he  always  followed,  and  by  which  he  has  acqui- 
red in  his  works  a  greater  facility  than  that  of  Titian ;  more 
of  purity,  truth,  and  fcience  than  Paulo  Veroncfe ;  and  more 
of  majefty,  repofe,  and  moderation  than  Tintoret.  To  con- 
clude; his  manner  is  fo  folid,  fo  knowing,  and  fo  ready,  that 
it  may  feem  this  rare  accomplished  genius  was  fent  from  hea- 
ven to  inflrud:  mankind  in  the  Art  of  Painting. 

His  School  was  full  of  admirable  Difciples ;  amongft  whom' 
VANDYKE  was  he  who  belt  comprehended  all  the  rules  and 
general  maxims  of  his  Matter;  and  who  has  even  excelled 
him  in  the  delicacy  of  his  carnations,  and  in  his  cabinet-pieces; 
but  his  tafte,  in  the  defigning  part,  was  nothing  better  than 
that  of  Rubens. 


T  II  £ 


THE 


P      R      E      F      A      C      E 

O    F 


Mr.     D    R    Y    D    E.    N 

TO    HIS 

TRANSLATION, 

Containing  a  PARALLEL  between 

POETRY     and     P  A  I  N  T  I  N  G. 


It  was  thought  proper  to  infer t  in  this  place  the 
pleaimg  Preface  which  Mr.  DRYDEN  printed  before 
his  Translation  of  M.  Du  FRESNQY'S  Poem.  There 
is  a  charm  in  that  great  writer's  Profe  peculiar  to 
itfelf ;  and  tho',  perhaps,  the  Parallel  between  the 
two  Arts,  which  he  has  here  drawn,  be  too  fuper- 
ficial  to  ftand  the  teft  of  ftricl:  Criticifm,  yet  it  will 
^always  give  pleafure  to  Readers  of  Tafte,  even  when 
it  fails  to  fatisfy  their  Judgment. 


Mr. 


Mr.      D     R     Y     D     E     N's 

PREFACE, 

WITH  A  PARALLEL  OF 
POETRY    and    PAINTING. 

IT  may  be  reafonably  expected,   that  I  mould  fay  fomething 
on  my  behalf,  in  refpect  to  my  prefent  undertaking.     Firft 
then,   the  Reader  may  be  pleafed  to  know,  that  it  was  not  of 
my  own  choice  that  I  undertook  this  work.     Many  of  our 
moft  fkilful  Painters,  and  other  Artifts,  were  pleafed  to  re- 
commend this  Author  to  me,  as  one  who  perfectly  underftood 
the  rules  of  Painting ;  who  gave  the  bed  and  moft  concife  in- 
ftructions  for  performance,  and  the  furefl  to  inform  the  judg- 
ment of  all  who  loved  this  noble  Art;  that  they  who  before 
were  rather  fond  of  it,  than  knowingly  admired  it,  might  de- 
fend their  inclination  by  their  reafon  >  that  they  might  under- 
hand thofe  excellencies  which,  they  blindly  valued,,  fo  as  not 
to  be  farther  impofed  on  by  bad  pieces,  and.  to-  know  when 
Nature  was  well  imitated  by  the  mofb  able  Mailers.     It  is 
true  indeed,  and  they  acknowledge  it,  that,   befides  the  rules 
which  are  given  in  this  Tr-eatife,,  or  which  can  be  given  in  any 
other,  to  make  a  perfect  judgment  of  good  pictures,  and  to 
value  them  more  or  lefs,.  when  compared  with  one  another, 
there  is  farther  required  a  long  converfation  with  thebeft  pieces, 
\vhich  are  not  very  frequent  either  in  r  ranee  or  England  :  yet 
fome  we  have,  not  only  from  the  hands  of  Holbein,,  Rubens, 
and  Vandyke,   (one  of  them  admirable  for  HiAory- pain  ting, 
and  the  other  two  for  Portraits)  but  of  many  Fiemim  Matters,, 
and  thcfe  not  iuconiiderable,  though  for  deilgn  not  equal,  to 

the 


i44  APPENDIX. 

the  Italians.     And  of  thefe  latter  alib,  we  are  not  unfurnimed 
with   fome   pieces    of  Raphael,   Titian,    Correggio,    Michael 
Angelo,  and  others.     But   to  return  to  my  own  undertaking 
of  this  tranilation ;   I  freely  own  that  I  thought  myfelf  un- 
capable  of  performing  it,  either  to  their  fatisfa&ion,  or  my 
own  credit.     Not  but  that  I  underftood  the  original  Latin, 
and  the  French  Author  perhaps  as  well  as  moft  Englimmen ; 
but  I  was   not  fufficiently  verfed   in  the   terms  of  art :   And 
therefore  thought  that  many  of  thofe  perfons,   who  put  this 
honourable  tafk  on  me,   were  more  able  to  perform  it  them- 
.felves,  as  undoubtedly  they  were.     But  they  afTuring  me  of 
their  affiftance  in  correcting  my  faults,  where  I  fpoke  impro- 
perly,  I  was  encouraged  to  attempt  it,  that  I  might  not  be 
wanting  in  what  I  could,   to  fatisfy  the  defires  of  fo  many 
Gentlemen  who  were  willing  to  give  the  world  this  ufeful 
work.     They  have  effectually  performed  their  promife  to  me, 
and  I  have  been  as  careful  on  my  fide  to  take  their  advice  in  all 
things;  fo  that  the  reader  may  afiure  himfelf  of  a  tolerable  tranf- 
lation ;  not  elegant,  for  I  propofed  not  that  to  myfelf,  but  fa- 
miliar, clear,  and  inftru.ctive  :  in  any  of  which  parts,  if  I  have 
failed,  the  fault  lies  wholly  at  my  door.    In  this  one  particular 
only,  I  muft  beg  the  reader's  pardon  :  The  Profe  Tranilation  of 
the  Poem  is  not  free  from  poetical  expreflions,  and  I  dare  not 
promife  that  fome  of  them  are  not  fuftian,  or  at  leafl  highly 
metaphorical;    but  this  being  a  fault  in   the  firft  digeftion, 
(that  is,  the  original  Latin)  was  not  to  be  remedied  in  the  fe- 
cond,  viz.   the  Translation  ;   and  I   may  confidently  fay,  that 
whoever  had  attempted  it,  muft  have  fallen  into  the  fame  in- 
convenience, or  a  much  greater,  that  of  a  falfe  veriion.  When 
I  undertook  this  work,  I  was  already  engaged  in  the  tranflation 
of  Virgil,  from  whom  I  have  borrowed  only  two  months,  and 
am  now  returning  to  that  which  I  ought  to  underfland  better. 

In 


APPENDIX.  145 

In  the  mean-time,  I  beg  the  reader's  pardon  for  entertaining 
him  fo  long  with  myfelf:  It  is  an  ufual  part  of  ill  manners  in 
all  Authors,  and  almoft  in  all  mankind,  to  trouble  others 
with  their  bulinefs;  and  I  was  fo  feniible  of  it  beforehand, 
that  I  had  not  now  committed  it,  unlefs  fome  concernments 
of  the  readers  had  been  interwoven  with  my  own.  But  I 
know  not,  while  I  am  atoning  for  one  error,  if  I  am  not  fall- 
ing into  another :  For  I  have  been  importuned  to  fay  fome- 
thing  farther  of  this  art;  and  to  make  fome  obfervations  on  it, 
in  relation  to  the  Hkenefs  and  agreement  which  it  has  with 
Poetry  its  Sifter.  But  before  I  proceed,  it  will  not  be  amifs, 
if  I  copy  from  Bellori  (a  mod  ingenious  author)  fome  part  of 
his  idea  of  a  Painter,  which  cannot  be  unpleafing,  at  leaft  to 
fuch  who  are  converfant  in  the  philofophy  of  Plato ;  and  to 
avoid  tedioufnefs,  I  will  not  tranflate  the  whole  difcourfe,  but 
take  and  leave,  as  I  find  occafion. 

"  God  Almighty,  in  the  fabric  of  the  univerfe,  firft  con- 
templated himfelf,  and  reflected  on  his  own  excellencies;  from 
which  he  drew  and  conftituted  thofe  firft  forms,  which  are 
called  Ideas  :  So  that  every  fpccies  which  was  afterwards  ex- 
purled,  was  produced  from  that  firft  Idea,  forming  that  won- 
derful contexture  of  all  created  Beings.  But  the  celeflial 
Bodies  above  the  moon  being  incorruptible,  and  not  fubject  to 
change,  remained  for  ever  fair,  and  in  perpetual  order.  On  the 
contrary,  all  things  which  arefublunary,  arefubject  to  change, 
to  deformity,  and  to  decay;  and  though  Nature  always  in- 
tends a  confummate  beauty  in  her  productions,  yet,  through 
the  inequality  of  the  matter,  the  forms  are  altered;  and  in 
particular,  human  beauty  fufFers  alteration  for  the  worfe,  as 
we  fee  to  our  mortification,  in  the  deformities  and  difpropor- 
tions  which  are  in  us.  For  which  reafon,  the  artful  Painter, 
and  the  Sculptor,  imitating  the  Divine  Maker,  form  to  them- 

T  felves, 


i46  APPENDIX. 

felves,  as  well  as  they  are  able,  a  model  of  the  fuperior  beau- 
ties ;  and,  reflecting  on  them,  endeavour  to  correct  and  amend 
the  common  Nature,  and  to  reprefent  it  as  it  was  firft  created, 
without  fault,  either  in  colour  or  in  lineament. 

"  This  idea,  v/hich  we  may  call  the  Goddefs  of  Painting 
and  of  Scuplture,  defcends  upon  the  marble  and  the  cloth,  and 
becomes  the  original  of  thofe  Arts  j  and,  being  meafured  by 
the  compafs  of  the  intellect,  is  itfelf  the  meafure  of  the  per- 
forming hand ;  and,  being  animated  by  the  imagination,  in- 
fufes  life  into  the  image.  The  idea  of  the  Painter  and  the 
Sculptor  is  undoubtedly  that  perfect  and  excellent  example  of 
the  mind,  by  imitation  of  which  imagined  form,  all  things 
are  reprefented  which  fall  under  human  fight :  Such  is  the 
definition  which  is  made  by  Cicero,  in  his  book  of  the  Orator 
to  Brutus.  "  As  therefore  in  forms  and  figures,  there  is 
"  fomewhat  which  is  excellent  and  perfect,  to  which  imagined 
"  fpecies  all  things  are  referred  by  imitation,  which  are  the 
"  objects  of  fight;  in  like  manner  we  behold  the  fpecies  of 
"  Eloquence  in  our  minds,  the  effigies,  or  actual  image  of 
"  which  we  feek  in  the  organs  of  our  hearing.  This  is  like- 
"  wife  confirmed  by  Proclus,  in  the  Dialogue  of  Plato,  called 
"  Timaeus :  If,  fays  he,  you  take  a  man,  as  he  is  made  by 
"  Nature,  and  compare  him  with  another  who  is  the  effect  of 
"  art,  the  work  of  Nature  will  always  appear  the  lefs  beauti- 

"  ful,    becaufe  Art  is    more   accurate   than  Nature." But 

Zeuxis,  who,  from  the  choice  which  he  made  of  five  virgins, 
drew  that  wonderful  picture  of  Helena,  which  Cicero,  in  his 
Orator  befbre-mentionecJ,  fets  before  us,  as  the  mod  perfect 
example  of  beauty,  at  the  fame  time  admonishes  a  Painter  to 
contemplate  the  ideas  of  the  moft  natural  forms;  and  to  make 
a  judicious  choice  of  feveral  bodies,  all  of  them  the  moft  ele- 
gant which  he  can  find:  By  which  we  may  plainly  underfland, 

that 


APPENDIX. 

that  he  thought  it  impomble  to  find  in  any  one  body  all  thofe 
perfections  which  he  fought  for  the  accomplishment  of  a 
Helena,  becaufe  Nature  in  any  individual  perfon  makes  nothing 
that  is  perfed  in  all  its  parts.  For  this  reafon  Maximus  Ty- 
rius  alfo  fays,  that  the  image  which  is  taken  by  a  Painter  from 
feveral  bodies,  produces  a  beauty,  which  it  is  impoffible  to 
find  in  any  fingle  natural  body,  approaching  to  the  perfection 
of  the  faireft  ftitues.  Thus  Nature,  on  this  account,  is  fo 
much  inferior  to  Art,  that  thofe  Artifts  who  propofe  to  them- 
felves  only  the  imitation  or  likenefs  of  fuch  or  fuch  a  particu- 
lar perfon,  without  election  of  thofe  ideas  before-mentioned, 
have  often  been  reproached  for  that  omiffion.  Demetrius  was 
taxed  for  being  too  natural ;  Dionyiius  was  alfo  blamed  for 
drawing  men  like  us,  and  was  commonly  called  'Ar'6pw7ro>pa^@u, 
that  is,  a  Painter  of  Men.  In  our  times,  Michael  Angelo  da 
Caravaggio  was  efieemed  too  natural :  He  drew  perfons  as 
they  were;  and  Bamboccio,  and  mod  of  the  Dutch  Painters., 
have  drawn  the  word  likenefs.  Lyfippus,  of  old,  upbraided 
the  common  fort  of  Sculptors  for  making  men  fuch  as  they 
were  found  in  Nature;  and  boafted  of  himfelf,  that  he  made 
them  as  they  ought  to  be;  which  is  a  precept  of  Ariftotlc, 
given  as  well  to  Poets  as  to  Painters.  Phidias  raifed  an  admi- 
ration even  to  aftonimment,  in  thofe  who  beheld  his  ftatues, 
with  the  forms  which  he  gave  to  his  Gods  and  Heroes,  by 
imitating  the  Idea,  rather  than  Nature ;  and  Cicero,  fpeaking 
of  him,  affirms,  that  figuring  Jupiter  and  Pallas,  he  did  not 
contemplate  any  object  from  whence  he  took  any  likenefs,  but 
coniidered  in  his  own  mind  a  great  and  admirable  form  of 
beauty,  and  according  to  that  image  in  his  foul,  he  directed 
the  operation  of  his  hand.  Seneca  alfo  feems  to  wonder  that 
Phidias,  having  never  beheld  either  Jove  or  Pallas,  yet  could 
conceive  their  divine  images  in  his  mind.  Apollonius  Tyanxus 

T  2  fays 


148    .    .      A      P       P      E       N       D       I       X. 

fays  the  fame  in  other  words,  that  the  Fancy  more  inflruds 
the  Painter  trian  the  Imitation ;  for  the  laft  makes  only  the 
things  which  it  fees,  but  the  firil  makes  alfo  the  things  which 
it  never  fees. 

"  Leon  Battifla  Alberti  tells  us,  that  we  ought  not  fo  much 
to  love  the  Likenefs  as  the  Beauty,  and  to  choofe  from  the 
faired  bodies  feverally  the  faired  parts.  Leonardo  da  Vinci 
inflrudts  the  Painter  to  form  this  Idea  to  himfelf ;  and  Raphael, 
the  greateft  of  all  modern  Mailers,  writes  thus  to  Caftiglione, 
concerning  his  Galatea:  "  To  paint  a  fair  one,  it  is  necefTary 
"  for  me  to  fee  many  fair  ones ;  but  becaufe  there  is  fo  great  a 
"  fcarcity  of  lovely  women,  I  am  constrained  to  make  ufe  of 
"  one  certain  Idea,  which  I  have  formed  to  niyfelf  in  my  own 
"  fancy."  Guido  Reni  fending  to  Rome  his  St.  Michael, 
which  he  had  painted  for  the  Church  of  the  Capuchins,  at  the 
fame  time  wrote  to  Monfignor  MafTano,  who  was  the  maeftro 
di  cafa  (or  fleward  of  the  houfe)  to  Pope  Urban  VIII.  in  this 
manner :  '*  I  wim  I  had  the  wings  of  an  angel,  to  have 
*<  afcended  into  Paradife,  and  there  to  have  beheld  the  forms  of 
«'  thofe  beatified  fpirits,  from  which  I  might  have  copied  my 
"  Archangel :  But  not  being  able  to  mount  fo  high,  it  was  in 
"  vain  for  me  to  fearch  his  refemblance  here  below ;  fo  that  I 
"  was  forced  to  make  an  introfpeclion  into  my  own  mind,  and 
•«  into  that  Idea  of  Beauty,  which  I  have  formed  in  my  own 
*'  imagination.  I  have  likewife  created  there  the  contrary  Idea 
"  of  Deformity  and  Uglinefs ;  but  I  leave  the  confideration  of  it 
"  till  I  paint  the  Devil,  and,  in  the  mean-time,  fhun  the  very 
«'  thought  of  it  as  much  as  poflibly  I  can,  and  am  even  Cndea- 
"  vouring  to  blot  it  wholly  out  of  my  remembrance."  There 
was  not  any  Lady  in  all  antiquity  who  was  Miftrefs  of  fo  much 
Beauty,  as  was  to  be  found  in  the  Venus  of  Gnidus,  made  by 
Praxiteles,  or  the  Minerva  of  Athens,  by  Phidias,  which  was 

therefore 


APPENDIX.  149 

therefore  called  the  Beautiful  Form.  Neither  is  there  any 
man  of  the  prefent  age  equal  in  the  ftrength,  proportion,  and 
knitting  of  his  limbs,  to  the  Hercules  of  Farnefe,  made  by 
Glycon ;  or  any  woman  who  can  juftly  be  compared  with  the 
Medicean  Venus  of  Ckomenes.  And  upon  this  account  the 
nobleft  Poets  and  the  beft  Orators,  when  they  deflred  to  cele- 
brate any  extraordinary  beauty,  are  forced  to  have  recourfe  to 
ftatues  and  pi&ures,  and  to  draw  their  perfons  and  faces  into 
comparifon :  Ovid,  endeavouring  to  exprefs  the  beauty  of 
Cyllarus,  the  faireft  of  the  Centaurs,  celebrates  him  as  next 
in  perfection  to  the  moil  admirable  ftatues: 

Gratus  in  ore  vigor,  cervix,   hurnerique,  .manufque, 

Pectoraque,   artificum  laudatis  proxima  lignis. 
A  pleafing  vigour  his  fair  face  exprefs'd ; 
His  neck,   his  hands*  his  {hculders,  and  his  breaft, 
Did  next  in  gracefulnefs  and  beauty  (land, 
To  breathing  figures,  of  the  Sculptor's  hand. 
In  another  place  he  fets  Apelles  above  Venus ; 
Si  Venerem  Cois  nunquam  pinxiiTet  Apelles^ 
Merfa  fub  asquoreis  ilia  lateret  aquis. 

Thus  varied. 

One  birth  to  feas  the  Cyprian  Goddefs  ow'd, 
A  fecond  birth  the  Painter's  art  beftow'd  : 
Lefs  by  the  feas  than  by  his  pow'r  was  giv'n ; 
They  made  her  live,   but  he  advanc'd  to  heav'n. 
•«  The  Idea  of  this  Beauty  is  indeed  various,  according  to 
the  feveral  forms  which  the  Painter  or  Sculptor  would  defcribe: 
As  one  in  ftrength,  another  in  magnanimity  -,  and  fometimes  it 
confifts  in  chearfulnefs,   and  fometimes  in  delicacy,  and  is  al- 
ways diverfified  by  the  fex  and  age. 

«'  The  beauty  of  Jove  is  one,  and   that  of  Juno   another: 
Hercules  and  Cupid  are  perfect  beauties,   though  of  different 

T  3  kinds  j 


1 50  APPENDIX. 

kinds ;  for  beauty  is  only  that  which  makes  all  things  as  they 
are  in  their  proper  and  perfect  nature,  which  the  beft  Painters 
always  choofe,  by  contemplating  the  forms  of  each.  We  ought 
farther  to  confider,  that  a  pi&u.re  being  the  reprefentation  of 
a  human  action,  the  Painter  ought  to  retain  in  his  mind  the 
examples  of  all  affections  and  paffions^  as  a  Poet  preferves  the 
idea  of  an  angry  man,  of  one  who  is  fearful,  fad,  or  merry; 
and  fo  of  all  the  reft :  For  it  is  impofiible  to  exprefs  that  with 
the  hand,  which  jiever  entered  into  the  imagination.  In  this 
manner,  as  I  have  rudely  and  briefly  (hewn  you,  Painters  and 
Sculptors  choofing  the  moft  elegant,  natural  beauties,  perfec- 
tionate  the  Idea,  and  advance  their  art,  even  above  Nature  itfelf, 
in  her  individual  productions,  which  is  the  utmoft  maftery  of 
human  performance. 

•"  From  hence  arifes  that  aftomfhment,  and  almoft  adoration, 
which  is  paid  by  the  knowing  to  thofe  divine  remains  of  an- 
tiquity. From  hence  Phidias,  Lylippus,  and  other  noble 
Sculptors,  are  flill  held  in  veneration  ;  and  Apelles,  Zeuxis, 
Protogenes,  and  other  admirable  Painters,  though  their  works 
are  perilhed,  are  and  will  be  eternally  admired ;  who  all  of 
them  drew  after  the  ideas  of  perfection;  which  are  the  miracles 
of  Nature,  the  providence  of  the  Underftanding,  the  exemp- 
lars of  the  Mind,  the  light  of  the  Fancy ;  the  fun,  which, 
from  its  rifing,  infpired  the  ftatue  of  Memnon,  and  the  fire 
which  warmed  into  life  the  image  of  Prometheus  :  It  is  thrs 
which  caufes  the  Graces  and  the  Loves  to  take  up  their  habi- 
tations in  the  hardefl  marble,  and  to  fubfift  in  the  emptinefs 
of  light  and  fhadows.  But  fince  the  Idea  of  Eloquence  is  as 
inferior  to  that  of  Painting,  as  the  force  of  words  is  to  the 
fight,  I  mull  here  break  off  abruptly  -,  and  having  conducted 
the  reader,  as  it  were,  to  a  fecret  walk,  there  leave  him  in  the 

mkki 


APPENDIX.  151 

midft  of  filerice  to  contemplate  thofe  ideas  which  I  have  only 
fketched,  and  which  every  man  muft  finifli  for  himfelf." 

In  thefe  pompous  expreffions,  or  fuch  as  thefe,  the  Italian 
has  given  you  his  idea  of  a  Painter;  and  tho'  I  cannot  mucli 
commend  the  ftile,  I  muft  needs  fay,  there  is  fomewhat  in 
the  matter :  Plato  himfelf  is  accuftomed  to  write  loftily,  imi- 
tating, as  the  critics  tell  us,  the  manner  of  Homer;  but, 
furely,  that  inimitable  Poet  had  not  fo  much  of  fmoke  in  his 
writings,  though  not  lefs  of  fire.  But  in  fhcrt,  this  is  the 
prefent  genius  of  Italy.  What  Philoftratus  tells  us,  in  the 
proem  of  his  Figures,  is- fomewhat  plainer,  and  therefore  I  will 
tranflate  it  almoft  word  for  word  :  "  He  who  will  rightly 
govern  the  Art  of  Painting,  ought,  of  necefiity,  firft  to  under- 
hand human  Nature.  He  ought  likewife  to  be  endued  with  a 
genius,  to  exprefs  the  figns  of  their  paflions  whom  he  rep  re- 
fents,  and  to  make  the  dumb  as  it  were  to  fpeak  :  He  mud 
yet  farther  understand  what  is  contained  in  the  conftitution  of 
the  cheeks,  in  the  temperament  of  the  eyes,  in  the  naturalnefs 
(if  I  may  fo  call  it)  of  the  eye- brows  ;  and  in  (hort,  whatfo- 
cver  belongs  to  the  mind  and  thought.  He  who  thoroughly 
poflefles  all  thefe  things,  will  obtain,  the  whole,  and  the  hand 
will  exquiiitely  reprefent  the  action  of  every  particular  perfon; 
if  it  happens  that  he  be  either  mad  or  angry,  melancholic  or 
chearful,  a  fprightly  youth,  or  a  languishing  lover :  in  one 
word,  he  will  be  able  to  paint  whatfoever  is  proportionable  to 
any  one.  And  even  in  all  this  there  is  a  fweet  error  without 
caufmg  any  (ha me :  For  the  eyes  and  mind  of  the  beholders 
being  fattened  on  objects  which  have  no  real  being,  as  if  they 
were  truly  exiftent,  and  being  induced  by  them  to  believe 
them  fo,  what  pleafure  is  it  not  capable  of  giving  ?  The  an- 
tients,  and  other  wife  men,  have  written  many  things  concern- 
ing the  fymmetry,  which  is  in  the  Art  of  Painting;  conflic- 
ting 


I52  APPENDIX. 

ting  as  it  were  fome  certain  laws  for  the  proportion  of  every 
member;  not  thinking  it  poflible  for  a  Painter  to  undertake 
the  expreffion  of  thofe  motions  which  are  in  the  mind,  with- 
out a  concurrent  harmony  in  the  natural  meafure :  For  that 
which  is  out  of  its  own  kind  and  meafure,  is  not  received  from 
Nature,  whofe  motion  is  always  right.  On  a  ferious  confide- 
ration  of  this  matter,  it  will  be  found,  that  the  Art  of  Painting 
has  a  wonderful  affinity  with  that  of  Poetry,  and  that  there  is 
betwixt  them  a  certain  common  imagination.  For,  as  the 
Poets  introduce  the  Gods-  and  Heroes,  and  all  thofe  things 
which  are  either  majedical,  honeft,  or  delightful ;  in  like 
manner,  the  Painters,  by  the  virtus  of  their  outlines,  colours, 
lights,  and  fhadows,  reprefent  the  fame  things  and  perfons  in 
their  pictures." 

Thus,  as  convoy  mips  either  accompany,  or  (hould  accom- 
pany-their  merchants,  till  they  may  profecute  the  reft  of  their 
voyage  without  danger ;  fo  Philoftratus  has  brought  me  thus 
far  on  my  way,  and  lean  now  fail  on  without  him.  He  has  be- 
gun to  fpeak  of  the  great  relation  betwixt  Painting  and  Poetry, 
and  thither  the  greateft  pa*t  of  this  difcourfe,  by  my  promife, 
was  directed.  I  have  not  engaged  myfelf  to  any  perfect  me- 
thod, neither  am  I  loaded  with  a  full  cargo  :  It  is  furHcient 
if  I  bring  a  fample  of  fome  goods  in  this  voyage.  It  will  be 
eafy  for  others  to  add  more,  when  the  commerce  is  fettled  : 
For  a  treatife,  twice  as  large  as  this,  of  Painting,  could  not 
contain  all  that  might  be  faid  on  the  parallel  of  thefe  two 
Sifter- Arts.  I  will  take  my  rife  from  Bellori  before  I  proceed 
to  the  Author  of  this  Book. 

The  bufmefs  of  his  Preface  is  to  prove,  that  a  learned 
Painter  mould  form  to  himfelf  an  Idea  of  perfect  Nature. 
This  image  he  is  to  fet  before  his  mind  in  all  his  undertakings, 
and  to  draw  from  thence,  as  from  a  ftorehoufe,  the  beauties 

which 


APPENDIX.  153 

which  are  to  enter  into  his  work  ;  thereby  correcting  Nature 
from  what  actually  fhe  is  in  individuals,   to  what  (he  ought  to 
be,  and  what  die  was  created.     Now  as  this  Idea  of  Perfection 
is  of  little  ufe  in  Portraits,   or  the  refemblances  of  particular 
perfons,    fo  neither  is   it   in   the    characters   of  Comedy   and 
Tragedy,   which  are  never  to  be  made  perfect,   but  always  to 
be  drawn  with  fome  fpecks  of  frailty  and  deficiencej    fuch  as 
they  have  been  defcribed  to  us  in  hiftory,   if  they  were  real 
characters ;   or  fuch  as  the  Poet  began  to  {hew  them,  at  their 
firft  appearance,   if  they   were  only  fictitious,  or  imaginary. 
The  perfection  of  fuch  ftage  characters  confifts  chiefly  in  their 
likenefs  to  the  deficient  faulty  Nature,  which  is  their  original ; 
only  (as  it  is  obferved  more   at  large  hereafter)  in  fuch  cafes 
there  will  always  be  found  a  better  likenefs  and  a  worfe,  and 
the  better  is  comtantly  to  be  chofen ;   I  mean  in  Tragedy, 
which    reprefents    the    figures    of    the   higheft  form    among 
mankind:   Thus,   in  Portraits,   the  Painter  will  not  take  that 
fide  of  the  face  which  has  fome  notorious  blemim  in  it,   but 
either  draw    it    in    profile,   as   Apelles    did  Antigonus,    who 
had  loft  one  of  his  eyes,  or  elfe  fhadow  the  more  imperfect 
fide ;  for  an  ingenious  flattery  is  to  be  allowed  to  the  profelTors 
of  both  arts,  fo  long  as  the  likenefs  is  not  deftroyed.     It  is 
true,  that  all  manner  of  imperfections  muft  not  be  taken  away 
from  the  characters ;  and  the  reafon  is,  that  there  may  be  left 
fome  grounds  of  pity  for  their  misfortunes :   We  can  never  be 
grieved  for  their  miferies  who  are  thoroughly  wicked,   and 
have  thereby  juftly  called  their  calamities  on  themfelves  :  Such 
men  are  the  natural  objects  of  our  hatred,   not  of  our  commi- 
feration.     If,   on  the  other  fide,  their  characters  were  wholly 
perfect,  fuch  as,   for  example,   the  character  of  a  Saint  or 
Martyr  in  a  Play,  his  or  her  misfortunes  would  produce  impious 
thoughts  in  the  beholders ;  they  would  accufe  the  Heavens  of 

U  injuftice, 


i54  APPENDIX. 

injuflice,  and  think  of  leaving  a  religion  where  piety  was  fo  ill 
requited.  I  fay  the  greater  part  would  be  tempted  fo  to  do; 
I  fay  not  that  they  ought ;  and  the  confequence  is  too  dan- 
gerous for  the  practice.  In  this  I  have  aceufed  myfelf  for  my 
own  St.  Catharine;  but  let  truth  prevail.  Sophocles  has  taken 
the  juft  medium  in  his  Oedipus :  He  is  fomewhat  arrogant 
at  his  firft  enterance,  and  is  too  inquifitive  through  the  whole 
Tragedy;  yet  thefe  imperfections  being  balanced  by  great 
virtues,  they  hinder  not  our  compaffion  for  his  miferies,  nei- 
ther yet  can  they  deftroy  that  horror  which  the  nature  of  his 
crimes  have  excited  in  us.  Such  in  Painting  are  the  warts 
and  moles  which,  adding  alikenefs  to- the  face,  are  not,  there- 
fore, to  be  omitted  ;  but  thefe  produce  no  loathing  in  us  :  but 
how  far  to  proceed,  and  where  to  flop,  is  left  to  the  judgment 
of  the  Poet  and  the  tainter.  In  Comedy  there  is  fomewhafc 
more  of  the  worfe  likenefs  to  be  taken,  becaufe  that  is  often 
to  produce  laughter,  which  is  occalioned  by  the  fight  of  fome 
deformity;  but  for  this  I  refer  the  reader  to  Ariftotle.  It  is  a 
(harp  manner  of  inftruction  for  the  vulgar,  who  are  never  well 
amended  till  they  are  more  than  fu-fficiently  expoied.  That  I 
may  return  to  the  beginning  of  this  remark,  concerning  per- 
fect Ideas,  I  have  only  this  to  fay,  that  the  parallel  is  often  true- 
in  Epic  Poetry. 

The  Heroes  of  the  Poets  are  to  be  drawn  according  to  this 
rule  :  There  is  fcarce  a  frailty  to  be  left  in  the  be  ft  of  them, 
any  more  than  is  to  be  found  in  a  Divine  Nature.  And  if 
./Ericas  fometimes  weeps,  it  is  not  in  bemoaning  his  own 
miferies,  but  thofe  which  his  people  undergo.  If  this  be  an 
imperfection,  the  Son  of  God,  when  he  was  incarnate,  fhed 
tears  of  companion  over  Jerufalem ;  and  Lentulus  defcribes 
him  often  weeping,  but  never  laughing  ;  fo  that  Virgil  is 
juftified  even  from  the  Holy  Scriptures.  I  have  but  one  word 

more, 


APPENDIX.  155 

more,  which  for  once  I  will  anticipate  from  the  author  of  this 
book.  Though  it  muit  be  an  Idea  of  perfection  from  which 
both  the  Epic  Poet  and  the  Hittory  Painter  draws,  yet  all 
perfections  are  not  fuitable  to  all  fubjects,  but  every  one  muft 
be  defigned  according  to  that  perfect  .beauty  which  is  proper 
to  him  :  An  Apollo  mult  be  diftinguifhed  from  a  Jupiter,  a 
Pallas  from  a  Venus ;  and  fo  in  Poetry,  an  ^Eneas  from  any 
other  Hero,  for  Piety  is  his  chief  perfection.  Homer's  Achilles 
is  a  kind  of  exception  to  this  rule ;  but  then  he  is  not  a  per- 
fect Hero,  nor  fo  intended  by  the  Poet.  All  .his  Gods  had 
fomewhat  of  human  imperfection,  for  which  he  has  been 
taxed  by  Plato,  as  an  imitator  of  what  was  bad.  But  Virgil 
obferved  his  fault  and  mended  it.  Yet  Achilles  was  perfect 
in  the  ftrength  of  his  body,  and  the  vigor  of  his  mind.  Had 
he  been  lefs  pafTionate  or  lefs  revengeful,  the  Poet  well  fore- 
faw  that  Hector  had  been  killed,  and  Troy  taken  at  the  firft 
aflault ;  which  had  deftroyed  the  beautiful  contrivance  of  his 
Iliad,  and  the  moral  of  preventing  difcord  amongft  confederate 
Princes,  which  was  his  principal  intention  :  For  the  moral 
(as  BofTu  obferves)  is  the  fint  bufinefs  of  the  Poet,  as  being 
the  ground- work  of  his  initruction.  This  being  formed,  he 
contrives  fuch  a  defign  or  fable,  as  may  be  moit  fuitable  to 
the  moral :  After  this  he  begins  to  think  of  the  perfons  whom 
he  is  to  employ  in  carrying  on  his  defign,  and  gives  them  the 
manners  which  are  moit  proper  to  their  feveral  characters. 
The  thoughts  and  words  are  the  laft  parts  which  give  beauty 
and  colouring  to  the  piece.  When  I  lay,  that  the  manners  of 
the  Hero  ought  to  be  good  in  perfection,  I  contradict  not  the 
Marquis  of  Normanby's  opinion,  in  that  admirable  verfe, 
where,  fpeaking  of  a  perfect  character,  he  calls  it 

"  A  faultlefs  monfter,  which  the  world  ne'er  knew  :" 
For  that  excellent  Critic  intended  only  to  fpeak  of  Dramatic 

U  2  characters, 


156  APPENDIX. 

characters,  and  not  of  Epic.     Thus  at  leaft  I  have  fhewn,  that 
in   the  moft  perfect  Poem,   which  is   that  of  Virgil,   a  per- 
fect idea  was  required  and  followed  j   and,   confequently,  that 
all  fucceeding  Poets   ought  rather  to  imitate  him,    than  even 
Homer.  1  will  now  proceed,  as  I  promifed,  to  the  author  of  this 
book :   He  tells  you,  almoft  in  the  firft  lines  of  it,  that  «'  the 
chief  end  of  Painting  is  to  pleafe  the  eyes  j  and  it  is  one  great 
end  of  Poetry  to  pleafe  the  mind."     Thus  far  the  parallel  of 
the  Arts  holds  true;   with  this  difference,   that  the  principal 
end  of  Painting  is  to  pleafe,   and  the  chief  defign  of  Poetry  is 
to  inftrucl:.     In  this,  the  latter  feems  to  have  the  advantage  of 
the  former.     But  if  we  confider  the  Artifts   themfelves   on 
both  fides,  certainly  their  aims  are  the  very  fame ;  they  would 
both  make  fure  of  pleafing,  and  that  in  preference  to  inftruc- 
tion.     Next,   the  means  of  this  pleafure  is   by  deceit :   One 
impofes  on  the  fight,   and   the  other  on  the  underflandrng. 
Fi&ion  is  of  the  eflence  of  Poetry  as  well  as  of  Painting ;  there 
is  a  refemblance  in  one,  of  human  bodies,  things  and  actions, 
•which  are  not  real  j   and  in  the  other,  of  a  true  ftory  by  a  fic- 
tion.    And  as  all  ftories  are  not  proper  fubjects  for  an  Epic 
Poem  or  a  Tragedy,  fo  neither  are  they  for  a  noble  Picture. 
The  fubjeds  both  of  the  one  and  of  the  other  ought  to  have 
nothing  of  immoral,   low,   or  filthy  in  them;   but  this  being 
treated  at  large  in  the  bock  itfelf,   I  wave  it,   to  avoid  repe- 
tition.    Only  I  muft  add,  that,   though  Catullus,   Ovid,  and 
others,  were  of  another  opinion,  that  the  fubjecl:  of  Poets,  and 
even  their  thoughts  and  exprefiions  might  be  loofe,   provided 
their  lives  were  chafte  and  holy,    yet  there  are  no  fuch  licences 
permitted  in   that  Art,   any  more  than  in  Painting   to  defign 
and  colour  obfcene  nudities.    Vita  proba  eft,  is  no  excuie ;  for 
it  will  fcarcely  be  admitted,   that  either  a  Poet  or  a  Painter 
can  be  chafte,  who  give  us  the  contrary  examples  in   their 

Writings 


APPENDIX.  157 

Writings  and  their  Pictures.  We  fee  nothing  of  this  kind  in 
Virgil :  That  which  comes  the  nearefl  to  it  is  the  Adven- 
ture of  the  Cave,  where  Dido  and  ^Eneas  were  driven  by  the 
florin ;  yet  even  there,  the  Poet  pretends  a  marriage  before 
the  confummation,  and  Juno  herfelf  was  prefent  at  it.  Neither 
is  there  any  expreffion  in  that  ftory  which  a  Roman  Matron 
might  not  read  without  a  blufh.  Befides,  the  Poet  pafles  it 
over  as  haflily  as  he  can,  as  if  he  were  afraid  of  flaying  in  the 
cave  with  the  two  lovers,  and  of  being  a  witnefs  to  their  ac- 
tions. Now  I  fuppofe  that  a  Painter  would  not  be  much 
commended,  who  mould  pick  out  this  cavern  from  the  whole 
JEneis,  when  there  is  not  another  in  the  work.  He  had  better 
leave  them  in  their  obfcurity,  than  let  in  a  flam  of  lightning 
to  clear  the  natural  darknefs  of  the  place,  by  which  he  mud 
difcover  himfelf  as  much  as  them.  The  altar-pieces,  and  holy 
decorations  of  Painting,  mew  that  Art  may  be  applied  to  better 
ufes  as  well  as  Poetry;  and,,  amongft  many  other  inftances,  the 
Farnefe  Gallery,  painted  by  Hannibal  Carracci,  is  a  fufficient 
witnefs  yet  remaining :  The  whole  work  being  morally  in- 
flrudive,  and  particularly  the  Hercules  Bivium,  which  is  a 
perfect  Triumph  of  Virtue  over  Vice,  as  it  is  wonderfully  well 
defcribed  by  the  ingenious  Bellori. 

Hitherto  I  have  only  told  the  reader  what  ought  not  to  be 
the  fubject  of  a  Picture,  or  of  a  Poem.  What  it  ought  to  be 
on  either  fide,  our  Author  tells  us.  It  mufl,  in  general,  be 
great  and  noble  -y  and  in  this  the  parallel  is  exactly  true.  The 
fubjecl  of  a  Poet,  either  in  Tragedy,  or  in  an  Epic  Poem,  is  a 
great  action  of  fome  illuflrious  Hero.  It  is  the  fame  in  Paint- 
ing :  not  every  action,  nor  every  perfon,  is  conliderable  enough 
to  enter  into  the  cloth.  It  muft  be  the  Anger  of  an  Achilles,, 
the  Piety  of  an  ^Eneas,  the  Sacrifice  .of  an  Iphigenia,  for  He* 

U  3  roines 


i58  APPENDIX, 

roines  as  well  as  Heroes  are  comprehended  in  the  rule.  But 
the  parallel  is  more  complete  in  Tragedy  than  in  an  Epic 
Poem  :  For  as  a  Tragedy  may  he  made  out  of  many  particular 
Epifodes  of  Homer,  or  of  Virgil ;  Co  may  a  noble  piciure  be 
defigned  out  of  this  or  that  particular  ftory  in  either  author. 
Hiftory  is  alfo  fruitful  of  defigns,  both  for  the  Painter  and  the 
Tragic  Poet:  Curtius  throwing  hirnfelf  into  a  gulph,  and  the 
two  Decii  facrificing  themfelves  for  the  fafety  of  their  country, 
are  fubjects  for  Tragedy  and  Picture.  Such  is  Scipio,  refto- 
ring  the  Spanim  Bride,  whom  he  either  loved,  or  may  be 
fuppofed  to  love ;  by  which  he  gained  the  hearts  of  a  great 
nation,  to  intereft  themfelves  for  Rome  againft  Carthage : 
Thefe  are  all  but  particular  pieces  in  Livy's  Hiftory,  and  yet 
are  full,  complete  fubjects  for  the  pen  and  pencil.  Now  the 
reafon  of  this  is  evident :  Tragedy  and  Picture  are  more  nar- 
rowly circumfcribed  by  the  mechanic  rules  of  Time  and  Place 
than  the  Epic  Poem  :  The  Time  of  this  laft  is  kft  indefinite. 
It  is  true,  Homer  took  up  only  the  fpace  of  eight  and  forty 
days  for  his  Iliad;  but  whether  Virgil's  action  was  .compre- 
hended in  a  year,  or  fomewhat  more,  is  .not  determined  by 
BofTu.  Homer  made  the  Place  of  his  action  Troy,  and  the 
Grecian  camp  befieging  it.  Virgil  introduces  his  ./Eneas  fome- 
times  in  Sicily,  fometimes  in  Carthage,  an-d  other  times  at 
Cumae,  before  he  brings  him  to  Laurentum  ;  and  even  after 
that,  he  wanders  again  to  the  kingdom  of  Evandrr,  and  fome 
parts  of  Tufcany,  before  he  returns  to  finim  the  war  by  the 
death  of  Turnus.  But  Tragedy,  according  to  the  practice  of 
the  Antients,  was  .always  .confined  within  the  compais  of 
twenty-four  hours,  and  feldom  takes  -up  io  much  time.  As 
for  the  place  of  it,  it  was  always  one,  and  that  not  in  a  larger 
fenfe,  as,  for  example,  a  whole  -city,  or  two  or  three  feveral 
houfes  in  it,  but  the  market,  or  fome  other  public  place, 

common 


APPENDIX.  1-59 

common  to  the  Chorus  and  all  the  Actors  :  Which  eftablimed 
law  of  theirs,   I  have  not  an  opportunity  to  examine  in  this 
place,  becaufe  I  cannot  do  it  without  digreffion  from  my  fub- 
ject,  though  it  feems  too  ftridt  at  the  firfl  appearance,  becaufe 
it  excludes  all  fecret  intrigues,  which  are  the  beauties  of  the 
modern  ftage;    for  nothing  can   be  carried  on  with  privacy, 
when   the  Chorus  is  fuppofed  to  be  always   prefent.     But  to 
proceed  :    I  muft  fay.  this   to  the  advantage  of  Painting,  even 
above  Tragedy,  that  what  this  laft  reprefents  in  the  fpace  of 
many  hours,  the  former  {hews  us  in  one  moment.     The  action, 
the  p3;lion,.  and  the  manners  of  fo  many  perfons  as   are  con- 
tained.in  a  picture,  are  to  be  difcerned  at. once- in  the  twinkling 
of  an  =  tyej   at  lead  they  would  be  fo,   if  the  fight  could  travel 
over  fo  many  different  objects  all  at  once,   or  the  mind  could 
digefl  them  all  at  the  fame  inftant,  or-  point  of  time.     Thus, 
in  the  famous  picture  of.  Pouffin,    which  reprefents   the  InfK- 
tution  of  the  blefTed  Sacrament,   you  fee  our  Saviour  and  his 
twelve  Difciples,   all  concurring  in  the  fame  action,  after  dif- 
ferent manners,   and  in  different  poflures  -,.  only   the  manners 
of  Judas  are  diftinguilhed  from  the  reft.     Here  is  but  one  in- 
divifibie  point  of  time  obfer.ved ;   but  one  action  performed  by 
fo  many  perfons,  in  one  room,  and  at  the  fame  table ;  yet  the 
eye  cannot  comprehend  at  once  the  whole  object,  not  the  mind 
follow  it  fo  fafl  |  it  is  confidered  at  leifure,  and"  feen  by  inter- 
vals.    Such  are  the  fubjects  of  noble  pictures,   and  fuch  are 
only  to  be  undertaken  by  noble  hands.      There  are  other  parts 
of  Nature  which  are  meaner,   and  yet  are  the  fubjecls  both 
of  Painters  and  of  Poets. 

For  to  proceed  in  the  parallel;  as  Comedy  is  a  reprefenta- 
tion  of  human  life  in  inferior  perfons  and  low  fubjects,  and 
by  that  means  creeps  into  the  Nature  of  Poetry,  and  is  a  kind 
of  Juniper,  a  flirub  belonging  to  the  fpecies  of  Cedar;  fo  is  the 

painting 


s6o  APPENDIX. 

painting  of  Clowns,  the  reprefentation  of  a  Dutch  Kermis, 
the  brutal  fport  of  Snick-or-Snee,  and  a  thoufand  other  things 
of  this  mean  invention,  a  kind  of  picture  which  belongs  to 
Nature,  but  of  the  loweft  form.  Such  is  a  Lazar  in  compa- 
rifon  to  a  Venus ;  both  are  drawn  in  human  figures ;  they  have 
faces  alike,  though  not  like  faces.  There  is  yet  a  lower  fort 
of  Poetry  and  Painting,  which  is  out  of  Nature ;  for  a  Farce 
is  that  in  Poetry  which  Grotefque  is  in  a  Picture  :  The  per- 
fons  and  action  of  a  Farce  are  all  unnatural,  and  the  manners 
falfe;  that  is,  inconfifting  with  the  characters  of  mankind. 
Grotefque  Painting  is  the  juft  refemblance  of  this;  and  Horace 
begins  his  Art  of  Poetry,  by  defcribing  fuch  a  figure  with  a 
man's  head,  a  horfe's  neck,  the  wings  of  a  bird,  and  a  fifh's 
tail,,  parts  of  different  fpecies  jumbled  together,  according  to 
the  mad  imagination  of  the  Dauber ;  and  the  end  of  all  this, 
as  he  tells  you  afterward,  is  to  caufe  laughter :  A  very  mon- 
fter  in  Bartholomew  Fair,  for  the  mob  to  gape  at  for  their 
twopence.  Laughter  is  indeed  the  propriety  of  a  man,  but 
juft  enough  to  diftinguifli  him  from  his  elder  brother  with 
four  legs.  It  is  a  kind  of  baftard-pleafure  too,  taken  in  at 
the  eyes  of  the  vulgar  gazers,  and  at  the  ears  of  the  beaftly 
audience.  Church-painters  ufe  it  to  divert  the  honeft  country 
man  at  public  prayers,  and  keep  his  eyes  open  at  a  heavy  fer- 
mon  ;  and  farce-fcribblers  make  ufe  of  the  fame  noble  inven- 
tion to  entertain  Citizens,  Country  Gentlemen,  and  Covent- 
Garden  Fops :  If  they  are  merry,  all  goes  well  on  the  Poet's 
fide.  The  better  fort  go  thither  too,  but  in  defpair  of  fenfe 
and  the  juft  images  of  Nature,  which  are  the  adequate  pleafures 
of  the  mind.  But  the  Author  can  give  the  ftage  no  better 
.  than  what  was  given  him  by  Nature ;  and  the  Actors  muft 
reprefent  fuch  things  as  they  are  capable  to  perform,  and  by 
which  both  they  and  the  Scribbler  may  get  their  living.  Af- 
ter 


A  P  P  E  N  D  I  X. ...  161 
ter  all,  it  is  a  good  Thing  to  laugh  at  any  rate;  and  if  a  ftraw 
can  tickle  a  man,  it  is  an  inftrument  of  happinefs.  Beads 
can  weep  when  they  fuffer,  but  they  cannot  laugh  :  And,  as 
Sir  William  Davenant  obferves,  in  his  Preface  to  Gondibert, 
:(  It  is  the  wifdom  of  a  government  to  permit  Plays,"  (he 
might  have  added  Farces)  "  as  it  is  the  prudence  of  a  carter 
to  put  bells  upon  his  horfes  to  make  them  carry  their  burdens 
chearfully." 

I  have  already  (hewn,  that  one  main  end  of  Poetry  and 
Painting  is  to  pleafe,  and  have  faid  fomething  of  the  kinds  of 
both,  and  of  their  fubjeds,  in  which  they  bear  a  great  refem- 
blance  to  each  other.  I  mufb  now  confider  them  as  they  are 
great  and  noble  Arts ;  and  as  they  are  arts,  they  muft  have 
rules  which  may  diredt  them  to  their  common  end. 

To  all  Arts  and  Sciences,  but  more  particularly  to  thefe, 
may  be  applied  what  Hippocrates  fays  of  Phyfic,  as  I  find 
him  cited  by  an  eminent  French  critic.  "  Medicine  has  long 
fubfifled  in  the  world ;  the  principles  of  it  are  certain,  and 
it  has  a  certain  way ;  by  both  which  there  has  been  found,  in 
the  courfe  of  many  ages,  an  infinite  number  of  things,  the 
experience  of  which  has  confirmed  its  ufefulnefs  and  goodnefs. 
All  that  is  wanting  to  the  perfection  of  this  art,  will  undoubt- 
edly be  found,  if  able  men,  and  fuch  as  are  inftrudted  in  the 
antient  rules,  will  make  a  farther  inquiry  into  it,  and  endea- 
vour to  arrive  at  that  which  is  hitherto  unknown  by  that 
which  is  already  known.  But  all,  who  having  rejected  the 
antient  rules,  and  taken  the  oppofite  ways,  yet  boafl  themfelves 
to  be  Matters  of  this  Art,  do  but  deceive  others,  and  arc 
themfelves  deceived ;  for  that  is  abfolutely  impoflible." 

This  is  notorioufly  true  in  thefe  two  Arts ;  for  the  way 
to  pleafe  being  to  imitate  Nature,  both  the  Poets  and  the 
Painters  in  antient  times,  and  in  the  beft  ages,  have  ftudied 

X  her; 


162  APPENDIX. 

her  -y  and  from  the  practice  of  both  thefe  Arts  the  rules  have 
been  drawn,  by  which  we  are  inftructed  how  to  pleafe,  and  to 
compafs  that  end  which  they  obtained,  by  following  their  ex- 
ample ;  for  Nature  is  ftill  the  fame  in  all  ages,  and  can  never 
be  contrary  to  herfelf.     Thus,  from  the  practice  of  ^Efchylus, 
Sophocles,  and  Euripides,  Ariftotle  drew  his  rules  for  Tragedy, 
and  Philoftratus  for  Painting.     Thus,  amongfb  the  moderns, 
the  Italian  and  French   critics,    by   fludying  the  precepts   of 
Ariftotle  and  Horace,  and  having  the  example  of  the  Grecian 
Poets  before  their  eyes,  have  given  us  the  rules  of  modern 
Tragedy ;   and  thus  the  critics  of  the  fame  countries,   in  the 
Art  of  Painting,  have  given  the  precepts  of  perfecting  that 
art.     It  is  true,   that  Poetry  has  one  advantage  over  Painting 
in  thefe  laft  ages,   that  we  have  ftill  the  remaining  examples 
both  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  Poets ;  whereas  the  Painters  have 
nothing    left    them    from    Apelles,    Protogenes,    Parrhafius, 
Zeuxis,  and  the  reft,  but  only  the  teftimonies  which  are  given 
of  their  incomparable  works.    But  inftead  of  this,   they  have 
fome  of  their  beft  ftatues,  bailb- relievos,  columns,  obelifks,  &c. 
which  are  faved  out  of  the  common  ruin,   and  are  ftill  prefer- 
ved  in  Italy;  and  by  well  diftinguifhing  what  is  proper  to 
Sculpture,  and  what   to  Painting,  and   what  is   common   to 
them  both,  they  have  judicioufly  repaired  that  lofs ;   and  the 
great  genius  of  Raphael  and  others,  having  fucceeded  to  the 
times  of  barbarifm  and  ignornance,  the  knowledge  of  Painting 
is  now  arrived  to  a  fupreme  perfection*,  tho?  the  performance 
of  it  is  much  declined  in  the  prefent  age.     The  greateft  age 
for  Poetry  amongft  the  Romans,   was  certainly  that  of  Au- 
guftus  Casfar ;   and  yet  we  are  told,  that  Painting  was  then  at 
its  loweft  ebb,  and  perhaps  Sculpture  was  alfo  declining  at  the 
fame  time.     In  the  reign  of  Domitian,  and  feme  who  fucceed- 
ed him,   Poetry  was  but  meanly  cultivated,  but  Painting  emi- 
nently 


APPENDIX.  163 

nently  flourimed.  I  am  not  here  to  give  the  Hiftory  of  the 
two  Arts,  how  they  were  both  in  a  manner  extinguifhed  by 
the  irruption  of  the  barbarous  nations,  and  both  reftored  about 
the  times  of  Leo  X.  Charles  V.  and  Francis  I.  tho'  I  might 
obferve,  that  neither  Ariofto,  nor  any  of  his  cotemporary 
Poets,  ever  arrived  at  the  excellency  of  Raphael,  Titian,  and 
the  reft  in  Painting.  But  in  revenge,  at  this  time,  or  lately  in 
many  countries,  Poetry  is  better  practifed  than  her  Sifter- Art. 
To  what  height  the  magnificence  and  encouragement  of  the 
prefent  King  of  France  may  carry  Painting  and  Sculpture  is 
uncertain  ;  but  by  what  he  has  done  before  the  war  in  which 
he  is  engaged,  we  may  expect  what  he  will  do  after  the  happy 
conclufion  of  a  peace  ;  which  is  the  prayer  and  wi(h  of  all  thofe 
who  have  not  an  intereft  to  prolong  the  miferies  of  Europe. 
For  it  is  moft  certain,  as  our  Author,  amongft  others,  has  ob- 
ferved,  that  Reward  is  the  fpur  of  virtue,  as  well  in  all  good 
arts,  as  in  all  laudable  attempts;  and  Emulation,  which  is  the 
other  fpur,  will  never  be  wanting  either  amongft  Poets  or 
Painters,  when  particular  rewards  and  prizes  are  propofed  to 
the  beft  defervers.  But  to  return  from  this  digreffion,  though 
it  was  almoft  neceflary,  all  the  rules  of  Painting  are  methodi- 
cally, concifely,  and  yet  clearly  delivered  in  this  prefent  treatife 
which  I  have  tranflated  :  Boffu  has  not  given  more  exact  rules 
for  the  Epic  Poem,  nor  Dacier  for  Tragedy,  in  his  late  ex- 
cellent Tranflation  of  Ariftotle,  and  his  Notes  upon  him,  than 
our  Frefnoy  has  made  for  Painting;  with  the  parallel  of  which 
I  muft  refume  my  difcourfe,  following  my  Author's  Text, 
though  with  more  brevity  than  I  intended,  becaufe  Virgil 
calls  me. 

"  The  principal  and  moft  important  part  of  Painting  is  to 
know  what  is  moft  beautiful  in  Nature,  and  moft  proper  for 
that  art."  That  which  is  the  moft  beautiful  is  the  moft  noble 

X  2  fubject; 


1 64  APPENDIX. 

fubject ;  fo  in  Poetry,  Tragedy  is  more  beautiful  than  Comedy, 
becaufe,  as  I  faid,  the  perfons  are  greater  whom  the  Poet  in- 
ftru&s;  and,  consequently,  the  inflruc"lions  of  more  benefit  to 
mankind  :  the  action  is  Jikewife  greater  and  more  noble,  and 
thence  is  derived  the  greater  and  more  noble  pleafure. 

To  imitate  Nature  well  in  whatfoever  fubjed:,  is  the  perfec- 
tion of  both  Arts ;  and  that  Picture,  and   that  Poem,  which 
comes  neareft  the  refemblance  of  Nature,   is  the  beft:   But  it 
follows  not,  that  what  pleafes  mod  in  either  kind  is  therefore 
good,  but  what  ought  to  pleafe.     Our  depraved  appetites  and 
ignorance  of  the  arts  miflead  our  judgments,  and  caufe  us 
often  to  take  that  for  true  Imitation  of  Nature,  which  has  no 
refemblance  of  Nature  in  it.     To  inform  our  Judgments,  and 
to  reform  our  Taftes,  rules  were  invented,  that  by  them  we 
might  difcern  when  Nature  was  imitated,  and  how  nearly.     I 
have  been  forced  to  recapitulate  thefe  things,  becaufe  mankind 
is  not  more  liable  to  deceit  than  it  is  willing  to  continue  in  a 
pleafing  error,  ftrengthened  by  a  long  habitude.     The  imita- 
tion of  Nature  is  therefore  juftly  conftituted  as   the  general, 
and  indeed  the  only  rule  of  pleaiing,    both   in  Poetry  and 
Painting.     Ariftotle  tells  us,  that  Imitation  pleafes,  becaufe  it 
affords  matter  for  a  reafoner  to  inquire  into  the  truth  or  falfe- 
hood  of  Imitation,    by  comparing  its  likenefs  or  unlikenefs 
with  the  original :   But  by  this  rule,  every  fpeculation  in  Na- 
ture, whofe  truth  falls   under  the  inquiry  of  a  Philofopher, 
mud  produce  the  fame  delight,  which  is  not  true.    I  fhould 
rather  affign  another  reafon  :  Truth  is  the  object  of  our  Un- 
derftanding,  as  Good  is  of  our  Will;  and  the  undemanding 
can  no  more  be  delighted  with  a  lie,  than  the  will  can  choofe 
an  apparent  evil.     As  truth  is  the  End  of  all  our  fpeculations, 
fo  the  difcovery  of  it  is  the  Pleafure  of  them;  and  fince  a  true 
knowledge  of  Nature  gives  us  pleafure,  a  lively  imitation  of 

it, 


APPENDIX.  165 

it,  either  in  Poetry  or  Painting,  muft  of  necerTity  produce  a 
much  greater:  For  both  thefe  arts,  as  I  faid-before,  are  not 
only  true  imitations  of  Nature,  but  of  the.  heft  Nature,  of  that 
which  is  wrought  up  to  a  nobler  pitch.--  They  prefent  us 
with  images  more  perfect  than  the  life  in  any  individual ;  and 
we  have  the  pleafure  to  fee  all  the  feattered  beauties  of  Nature 
united  by  a  happy  Chemiftry  without  its  deformities  or  faults. 
They  are  imitations  of  the  paflions  which  always  move,  and 
therefore  confequently  pleafe;  for  without  motion  there  can 
be  no  delightj,  which  cannot  be  confidered  but  as  an  active 
paffion.  When -we  view  thefe  elevated  ideas  of  Nature,  the 
refult  of  that  view- is 'Admiration,  which,  is  always  the  caufe 
of  pleafure. 

This  foregoing  remark,  which  gives  the  reafon  why  Imita- 
tion pleafes,  was  lent  me  by  Mr.  Walter  Moyle,  a  moll  in- 
genious young  Gentleman,  converfant  in  all  the  ftudies  of 
Humanity,  much  above  his  years.  He  had  alfo  furnifhed  me, 
according  to  my --requefr,  with  all  the  particular  paffages  in 
Ariftotle  and  Horace, .  which  are  ufed  by  them  to  explain  the 
Art  of  Poetry  by  that  of  Painting;  which,  if  ever  I  have 
time  to  retouch  this  Ell  ay,  (hall  be  infer  ted  in  their  places. 
Having  thus  fhewn- that  Imitation  pkafes,  and  why  it  pleafes 
in  both  thefe  arts,  it  follows,  that  fome  rul-es  of  imitation  are 
neceffary  to  obtain  the  end;-  for  without  ruks  there  can  be  no 
art,  any  more  than- there  can  be  a  houfe  without  a  door  to 
cond.ua  you  into  it*  The  principal,  parts  of  Painting  and 
Poetry  next  follow. 

INVENTION  is  thenrft  part,  and  abfolutely  neceffary  to  them 
both;  yet  no  rule  ever  was  or  ever  can  be  given  how  to  coin- 
pafs  it.  A  happy  Genius  is  the  gift  of  Nature;  it  depends 
on  the  influence  of  the  ftarsy  fay  the  Aftrologers ;  on  the  or- 
gans of  the  body,  fay  the  NaturaH(h;  it  is  the  particular  gift 

X  3  of 


166  APPENDIX. 

of  heaven,  fay  the  Divines,  both  Chriftians  and  Heathens. 
How  to  improve  it,  many  books  can  teach  us ;  how  to  obtain 
it,  none;  that  nothing  can  be  done  without  it,  all  agree  : 

Tu  nihil  invita  dices  facieive  Minerva. 

Without  Invention  a  Painter  is  but  a  Copier,  and  a  Poet  but 
a  Plagiary  of  others.  Both  are  allowed  fometimes  to  copy  and 
tranflate ;  but,  as  our  Author  tells  you,  that  is  not  the  beft 
part  of  their  reputation.  "  Imitators  are  but  a  fervile  kind  of 
cattle,"  fays  the  Poet;  or  at  beft,  the  keepers  of  cattle  for  other 
men  :  They  have  nothing  which  is  properly  their  own ;  that 
is  a  fufficient  mortification  for  me,  while  I  am  tranflating 
Virgil.  But  to  copy  the  beft  author  is  a  kind  of  praife,  if  I 
perform  it  as  I  ought;  as  a  copy  after  Raphael  is  more  to  be 
commended  than  an  original  of  any  indifferent  Painter. 

Under  this  head  of  Invention  is  placed  the  Difpofition  of 
the  work,  to  put  all  things  in  a  beautiful  order  and  harmony, 
that  the  whole  may  be  of  a  piece.  "  The  competitions  of  the 
Painter  fhould  be  conformable  to  the  text  of  antient  authors, 
to  the  cuftoms,  and  the  times;"  and  this  is  exactly  the  fame  in 
Poetry  :  Homer  and  Virgil  are  to  be  our  guides  in  the  Epic; 
Sophocles  and  Euripides  in  Tragedy :  In  all  things  we  are  to 
imitate  the  cuftoms  and  the  times  of  thofe  perfons  and  things 
which  we  reprefent :  Not  to  make  new  rules  of  the  Drama, 
as  Lopez  de  Vega  has  attempted  unfuccefsfully  to  do,  but  to 
be  content  to  follow  our  Mafters,  who  underftood  Nature 
better  than  we.  But  if  the  ftory  which  we  treat  be  modern, 
we  are  to  vary  the  cuftoms,  according  to  the  time  and  the 
country  where  the  fcene  of  action  lies;  for  this  is  ftill  to  imi- 
tate Nature  which  is  always  the  fame,  though  in  a  different 
drefs. 

As  "  in  the  composition  of  a  picture,   the  Painter  is  to  take 
care  that  nothing  enter  into  it,   which  is  not  proper  or  con- 
venient 


APPENDIX.  167 

venient  to  the  fubject;"  fo  likewife  is  the  Poet  to  reject  all  inci- 
dents which  are  foreign  to  his  Poem,  and  are  naturally  no  parts 
of  it :  They  are  wens,  and  other  excrefcences,  which  belong 
not  to  the  body,  but  deform  it.  No  perfon,  no  incident  in 
the  piece,  or  in  the  play,  but  muft  be  of  ufe  to  carry  on  the 
main  defign.  All  things  elfe  ar?  like  fix  fingers  to  the  hand, 
when  Nature,  which  is  fuperfluous  in  nothing,  can  do  her 
work  with  five.  "  A  Painter  mud  reject  all  trifling  ornaments;" 
fo  muft  a  Poet  refufe  all  tedious  and  unneceffary  defcriptions. 
A  robe,  which  is  too  heavy,  is  lefs  an  ornament  than  a  burden. 
In  Poetry,  Horace  calls  thefe  thingsr 

Verfus  inopes  rerumr  nugaeque  canorsc. 

Thefe  are  alfo  the  lucus  &  ara  Dianae,  which  he  mentions  in 
the  fame  Art  of  Poetry  :  But  fmce  there  muft  be  ornaments, 
both  in  Painting  and  Poetry,  if  they  are  not  necefTary,  they 
muft  at  leaft  be  decent;  that  is,  in  their  due  place,  and  but 
moderately  ufed.  The  Painter  is  not  to  take  fo  much  pains 
about  the  drapery,  as  about  the  face,  where  the  principal  re- 
femblance  lies ;  neither  is  the  Poet,  who  is  working  up  a  paf- 
iion  to  make  fimiles,  which  will  certainly  make  it  languim. 
My  Montezuma  dies  with  a  fine  one  in  his  mouth,  but  it  is  out 
of  feafon.  Where  there  are  more  figures  in  a  picture  than  are 
necefTary,  or  at  leaft  ornamental,  our  author  calls  them  "  Figures 
to  be  lett,"  becaufe  the  picture  has  no  ufe  of  them  :  So  I  have 
feen  in  fome  modern  plays  above  twenty  actors,  when  the  ac- 
tion has  not  required  half  the  number.  In  the  principal 
figures  of  a  picture,  the  Painter  is  to  employ  the  finews  of  his 
art,  for  in  them  confifts  the  principal  beauty  of  his  work. 
Our  Author  faves  me  the  comparifon  with  Tragedy:  for  he 
fays,  that  "  herein  he  is  to  imitate  the  Tragic  Poet,  who  em- 
ploys his  utmoft  force  in  thofe  places,  wherein  confifts  the 

height  and  beauty  of  the  action," 

Du 


i£8  APPENDIX. 

Du  Frefnoy,  whom  I  follow,  makes  DESIGN,  or  Drawing, 
the  fecond  part  of  Painting;  but  the  rules  which  he  gives 
concerning  the  pofture  of  the  figures  are  almoft  wholly  proper 
to  that  art,  and  admit  not  any  comparifon,  that  1  know, 
with  Poetry.  The  pofture  of  a  poetic  figure  is,  as  I  con- 
ceive, the  defcription  of  his  heroes  in  the  performance  of 
fuch  or  fuch  an  action ;;  as  of  Achilles,  juft  in  the  act  of 
killing  Hector;  or  of -/Eneas, -  who  has  Turnus  under  him. 
Both  the  Poet  and  the  Painter  vary  the  poftures,  according 
to  the  action  or  .-pafTion,  which  they  reprefcnt  of  the  fame 
perfon.  ;But  all  mud  be  great  and  graceful  in  them.  The 
fame  ^neas  rnuft  be  drawn  a  fuppliant  to  Dido,  with  re- 
,fpe6t  'in  his  geftures,  and  humility  in  his  eyes;  but  when  he 
.is  forced,  in  his  own  defence,  to  kill  ;Laufus,  the  Poet  mews 
him  compaflionate,  and  tempering  the  feverity  of  his  looks 
with  a  reluctance  to  the  action,  which  he  is  going  to  perform. 
He  has  pity  on  his  beauty  and  his  youth,  and  js  loth  to-deftroy 
fuch  a  mafter-piece  of  Nature.  He  confiders  Laufus  refcuing 
his  father,  at  the  hazard  of  his  own  life,  as  an  image  of  him- 
felf,  when  he  took  Anchifes  on  his  moulders,  and  bore  him 
fafe  through  the  rage  of  the  fire,  and  the  oppofition  of  his 
enemies ;  and  therefore,  in  the  pofture  of  a  retiring  man,  who 
avoids  the  combat,  he  ftretches  out  his  arm  in  fign  of  peace, 
with  his  right  foot  drawn  a  little  back,  and  his  breaft  bending 
inward,  more  like  an  orator  than  a  foldier;  and  feems  to  dif- 
fuade  the  young  man  from  pulling  on  his  deftiny,  by  attempt- 
ing more  than  he  was  able  to  perform.  Take  the  paiTage  as  I 
have  thus  tranflated  it : 

Shouts  of  applaufe  ran  ringing  through  the  field, 

To  fee  the  fon  the  vanquilh'd  father  mield  : 

All,  fir'd  with  noble  emulation,  ftrive, 

And  with  a  ftorm  of  darts  to  diftance  drive 

The 


APPENDIX.  169 

The  Trojan  chief;  who  held  at  bay,  from  far 

On  his  Vulcanian  orb,  fuftain'd  the  war. 

JEneas  thus  o'erwhelm'd  on  ev'ry  fide, 

Their  firft  afTault  undaunted  did  abide; 

And  thus  to  Laufus,  loud,  with  friendly  threatning  cry'd,( 

Why  wilt  thou  rufti  to  certain  death,  and  rage 

In  ram  attempts  beyond  thy  tender  age, 

Betray'd  by  pious  Love  ? 

And  afterwards, 

He  gnev'd,   he  wept,   the  fight  an  image  brought 

Of  his  own  filial  love;  a  fadly  pleafing  thought." 
But,  befide  the  outlines  of  the  pofture,  the  Defign  of  the  pic- 
ture comprehends  in  the  next  place  the  "  forms  effaces,  which 
are  to  be  different ;"  and  fo  in  a  Poem,  or  Play,  muft  the  feve- 
ral  characters  of  the  perfons  be  diftinguimed  from  each  other. 
I  knew  a  Poet,  whom  out  of  refpect  I  will  not  name,  who, 
being  too  witty  himfelf,  could  draw  nothing  but  Wits  in  a 
Comedy  of  his ;  even  his  Fools  were  infected  with  the  difeafe 
of  their  Author  :  They  overflowed  with  fmart  repartees,  and 
were  only  diftinguifhed  from  the  intended  Wits,  by  being 
called  Coxcombs,  though  they  deferved  not  fo  fcandalous  a 
name.  Another,  who  had  a  great  genius  for  Tragedy,  follow- 
ing the  fury  of  his  natural  temper,  made  every  man  and  wo- 
man too,  in  his  Plays,  ftark  raging  mad;  there  was  not  a 
fober  perfon  to  be  had  for  love  or  money;  all  was  tempeftuous 
and  bluftering;  heaven  and  earth  were  coming  together  at 
every  word ;  a  mere  hurricane  from  the  beginning  to  the  end; 
and  every  actor  feemed  to  be  haftening  on  the  day  of  judg- 
ment ! 

"  Let  every  member  be  made  for  its  own  head,"  fays  our 
Author,  not  a  withered  hand  to  a  young  face.     So  in  the  per- 

Y  fons 


i7o  APPENDIX. 

fons  of  a  Play,  whatever  is  &id  or  done  by  any  of  them,  muft 
be  confiitent  with  the  manners  which  the  Poet  has  given  them 
diftin&ly;  and  even  the  habits  muft  be  proper  to  the  degrees 
and  humours  of  the  perlbns  as  well  as  in  a  picture.  He  who 
entered  in  the  firft  act  a  young  man,  like  Pericles  Prince  of 
Tyre,  muft  not  be  in  danger,  in  the  fifth  act,  of  committing 
inceft  with  his  daughter;  nor  an  ufurer,  without  great  pro- 
bability and  caufes  of  repentance,  be  turned  into  a  cutting 
Moorcraft. 

I  am  not  fatisfied  that  the  comparifon  betwixt  the  two  Arts,.. 
in  the  laft  paragraph,  is  altogether  fo  juft  as  it  might  haver 
been ;  but  I  am  fure  of  this  which  follows. 

"  The  principal  figure  of  the  fubject  muft  appear  in  the 
midft  of  the  picture,  under  the  principal  light,  to  diftinguifh 
it  from  the  reft,  which  are  only  its  attendants."  Thus  in  a 
Tragedy,  or  an  Epic  Poem,  the  hero  of  the  piece  muft  be 
advanced  foremoft  to  the  view  of  the  reader  or  fpectator :  He 
muft  outmine  the  reft  of  all  the  characters ;  he  muft  appear 
the  prince  of  them,  like  the  fun  in  the  Copernican  Syftem, 
encompafled  with  the  lefs  noble  planets.  Becaufe  the  Hero 
is  the  centre  of  the  main  action,  all  the  lines  from  the  circum- 
ference tend  to  him  alone ;  he  is  the  chief  object  of  pity  in  the 
Drama,  and  of  admiration  in  the  Epic  Poem. 

As  in  a  picture,  befides  the  principal  figures  which  compofe 
it,  and  are  placed  in  the  midft  of  it,  there  are  lefs  "  groupes, 
or  knots  of  figures  difpofed  at  proper  diftances,"  which  are 
parts  of  the  piece,  and  feem  to  carry  on  the  fame  defign  in  a 
more  inferior  manner:  So  in  Epic  Poetry  there  are  Epifodes, 
and  a  Chorus  in  Tragedy,  which  are  members  of  the  action,, 
as  growing  out  of  it,  not  inferred  into  it.  Such,  in  the  ninth, 
book  of  the  fiLneis,  is  the  Epifode  of  Nifus  and  Euryalus: 

the 


APPENDIX.  i7i 

the  adventure  belongs  to  them  alone  j  they  alone  are  the  ob- 
jects of  companion  and  admiration ;  but  their  bufmeis  which 
they  carry  on,  is  the  general  concernment  of  the  Trojan  camp, 
then  beleaguered  by  Turnus  and  the  Latines,  as  the  Chriftians  I 
were  lately  by  the  Turks  :  They  were  to  advertife  the  chief 
Hero  of  the  diuretics  of  his  fubjects,  occafioned  by  his  abfence, 
to  crave  his  fuccour,  and  folicit  him  to  hairen  his  return. 

The  Grecian  Tragedy  was  at  firft  nothing  but  a  Chorus 
of  Singers  j  afterwards  one  actor  was  introduced,  which  was 
the  Poet  himfelf,  who  entertained  the  people  with  a  difcourfe 
in  verfe,  betwixt  the  paufes  of  the  fmging.  This  fucceeding 
with  the  people,  more  actors  were  added  to  make  the  variety 
the  greater ;  and  in  procefs  of  time  the  Chorus  only  fung 
betwixt  the  acts,  and  the  Coryphaeus,  or  chief  of  them,  fpoke 
for  the  reft,  as  an  actor  concerned  in  the  bufmefs  of  the  Play. 

Thus  Tragedy  was  perfected  by  degrees,  and  being  arrived 
at  that  perfection,  the  Painters  might  probably  take  the  hint 
from  thence,  of  adding  groupes  to  their  pictures ;  but  as  a 
good  Picture  may  be  without  a  groupe,  fo  a  good  Tragedy 
may  fubfift  without  a  Chorus,  notw-ithftanding  any  reafons 
which  have  been  given  by  Dacier  to  the  contrary, 

Moniieur  Racine  has  indeed  ufed  it  in  his  Eftber,  but  not 
that  he  found  any  neceffity  of  it,  as  the  French  Critic  would 
infinuate.  The  Chorus  at  St.  Cyr  was  only  to  give  the  young 
Ladies  an  occafion  of  entertaining  the  King  with  vocal  mufic, 
and  of  commending  their  own  voices.  The  play  itfelf  was 
never  intended  for  the  public  ftage-j  nor,  without  any  difpa- 
ragement  to  the  learned  Author,  could  pombly  have  fucceeded 
there,  and  much  kfs  in  the  tranflation  of  it  here.  Mr. 
Wycherley,  when  we  read  it  together,  was  of  my  opinion  in 
this,  or  rather  I  of  his  5  for  it  becomes  me  fo  to  fpeak  of  fo 

Y  2  excellent, 


j72  APPENDIX. 

excellent  a  Poet,  and  fo  great  a  Judge.  But  fince  I  am  in  this 
place,  as  Virgil  fays,  "  Spatiis  exclufus  iniquis,"  that  is,  fhort- 
ened  in  my  time,  I  will  give  no  other  reafon  than  that  it  is 
impracticable  on  our  ftage.  A  new  theatre,  much  more  ample, 
and  much  deeper,  muft  be  made  for  that  purpofe,  beiides  the 
coft-  of  fometimes  forty  or  fifty  habits,  which  is  an  expence 
too  large  to  be  fupplied  by  a  company  of  actors.  It  is  true,  I 
(hould  not  be  forry  to  fee  a  Chorus  on  a  theatre,  more  than  as 
large  and  as  deep  again  as  ours,  built  and  adorned  at  a  King's 
charges ;  and  on  that  condition  and  another,  which  is,  that 
my  hands  were  not  bound  behind  me,  as  now  they  are,  I 
fhould  not  defpair  of  making  fuch  a  5  ragedy,  as  might  be 
both  inftructive  and  delightful,  according  to  the  manner  of 
the  Grecians. 

'*  To  make  a  fketch,  or  a  more  perfect  model  of  a  picture," 
is,  in  the  language  of  Poets,  to  draw  up  the  Scenery  of  a  Play  i 
and  the  reafon  is  the  fame  for  both •,  to  guide  the  undertaking, 
and  to  preferve  the  remembrance  of  fuch  things  whofe  natures 
are  difficult  to  retain. 

To  avoid  abfurdities  and  incongruities  is  the  fame  law  efta- 
blifhed  for  both  Arts.  "  The  Painter  is  not  to  paint  a  cloud  at 
the  bottom  of  a  picture,  but  in  the  uppermoft  parts ;"  nor  the 
Poet  to  place  what  is  proper  to  the  End  or  Middle  in  the  Be- 
ginning of  a  Poem.  I  might  enlarge  on  this;  but  there  are 
few  Poets  or  Painters  who  can  be  fuppofed  to  fin  fo  grofsly 
againft  the  Laws  of  Nature  and  of  Art.  I  remember  only 
one  Play,  and  for  once  I  will  call  it  by  its  name,  T/je 
Slighted  Maid,  where  there  is  nothing  in  the  firft  act  but 
what  might  have  been  faid  or  done  in  the  fifth;  nor  any  thing 
in  the  Midft  which  might  not  have  been  placed  as  well  in  the 
Beginning  or  the  End. 

"To 


APPENDIX.  173 

st  To  exprefs  the  paffions,  which  are  feated  on  the  heart 
by  outward  figns,"  is  one  great  precept  of  the  Painters,  and 
very  difficult  to  perform.  In  Poetry  the  fame  paffions  and 
motions  of  the  mind  are  to  be  exprefTed ;  and  in  this  confifts 
the  principal  difficulty,  as  well  as  the  excellency  of  that  Art. 
"This,"  fays  my  Author,  "is  the  gift  of  Jupiter;"  and, 
to  fpeak  in  the  fame  Heathen  language,  We  call  it  the  gift 
of  our  Apollo,  not  to  be  obtained  by  pains  or  ftudy,  if  we  are 
not  born  to  it :  For  the  motions  which  are  ftudied  are  never 
fo  natural  as  thofe  which  break  out  in  the  height  of  a  real 
paffion.  Mr.  Otway  pofTelled  this  part  as  thoroughly  as  any 
of  the  antients  or  moderns.  I  will  not  defend  every  thing 
in  his  Venue  Preferred;  but  I.muft  bear  this  teftimony  to  his 
memory,  that  the  paffions  are  truly  touched  in  it,  though, 
perhaps,  there  is  fomewhat  to  be  defired  both  in  the  grounds 
of  them,  and  in  the  height  and  elegance  of  expreffion;  but 
Nature  is  there,  which  is  the  greateft  beauty. 

"  In  the  paffions,"  fays  our  Author,   "  we  muft  have  a  very 
great  regard  to  the  quality  of  the  perfons  who  are  actually 
pofleffed  with  them."     The  joy  of  a  Monarch  for  the  news  of 
a  victory  mufl  not  be  expreffed  like  the  extafy  of  a  Harlequin 
on  the  receipt  of  a  letter  from  his  Miftrefs :  This  is  fo  much 
the  fame  in  both  the  Arts,  that  it  is  no  longer  a  comparifon. 
What  he  fays  of  face-painting,  or  the  portrait  of  any  one  par- 
ticular perfon,  concerning  the  likenefs,  is  alfo  applicable  to 
Poetry:  In  the  character  of  an  hero,  as  w-ell  as  in  an  inferior 
figure,  there  is  a  better  or  worfe  likenefs  to   be  taken  5   the 
better  is  a  panegyric,   if  it  be  not  falfe,   and  the  worfe  is  a 
libel.     Sophocles,  fays  Ariftotle,   always  drew   men   as   they 
ought  to  be;    that  is,  better  than  they  were.    Another,  whole 
name  I  have  forgotten,  drew  them  worfe  than  naturally  they 

Y  3  were. 


•174  APPENDIX, 

were.  Euripides  altered  nothing  in  the  character,  but  made 
them  fuch  as  they  were  reprefented  by  Hiftory,  Epic  Poetry, 
or  Tradition.  Of  the  three,  the  draught  of  Sophocles  is 
moft  commended  by  Ariftotle.  I  have  followed  it  in  that 
part  of  Oedipus  which  I  writ ;  though,  perhaps,  I  have  made 
him  too  good  a  man.  But  my  characters  of  Anthony  and 
Cleopatra,  though  they  are  favourable  to  them,  have  nothing 
of  outrageous  panegyric ;  their  pafiions  were  their  own,  and 
fuch  as  were  given  them  by  Hiitory,  only  the  deformities  of 
them  were  can:  into  madows,  that  they  might  be  objects  of 
compaffion  :  .whereas,  if  I  had, choieri  a  noon-day  light  for 
them,  xfomewhat  mud  have  been  difcovered,  which  would  ra- 
ther have  moved  our  hatred  than  our  pity. 

"  The  Gothic  manner,  and  the  barbarous  ornaments  which 
are  to  be  avoided  in  a  pidure,"  are  juft  the  fame  with  thofe  in 
*m  ill-ordered  Play.  For  example;  our  Englifh  Tragi-comedy 
muft  be  confefled  to  be  wholly  Gothic,  notwithstanding  the 
foccefs. which  it  has  found  upon  our  theatre;  and  in  the  P  aft  or 
Ftdo  of  Guarini,  .even  though  Corifca  and  the  Satyr  contribute 
fotnewhat  to  the  main  adion :  Neither  can  I  defend  my  Spanijh 
Friar,  as  fond  as  otherwife  I  am  of  it,  from  this  imputation ; 
for  though  the  comical  parts  are  diverting,  and  the  ferious 
moving,  yet  they  are  of  an  unnatural  mingle :  for  mirth  and 
gravity  deftroy  each  other,  and  are  no  more  to  be  allowed  for 
decent,  than  a  gay  widow  laughing  in  a  mourning  habit. 

I  had  almoft  forgot  one  confiderable  refemblance.  Du 
Frefnoy  tells  us,  "  That  the  figures  of  the  groupes  muft  not 
be  all  on  a  fide,  that  js,  with  their  faces  and  bodies  all  turned 
the  fame  way,  but  .muft  contraft  each  other  by  their  feveral 
petitions."  Thus  in  a  Play,  fome  characters  muft  be  raifed 
to  oppofe  others,  and  to  fet  them  off  the  better,  according  to  " 

the 


APPENDIX.  175 

the  old  maxim,  "  Contraria  juxta  fe  pofita,  magis  elucefcunt." 
Thus  in  the  Scornful  Lady,  the  Ufurer  is  fent  to  confront  tht 
Prodigal :  Thus  in  my  Tyrannic  Love,  the  Atheift  Maximin 
is  oppofed  to  the  character  of  St.  Catharine. 

I  am  now  come,  though  with  the  omifiion  of  many  like-- 
nefles,  to  the  third  part  of  Painting,  which  is  called'  the  CHRO- 
MATIC or  COLOURING.  Expreffion,  and  all  that  belongs  to 
words,  is  that  in  a  Poem  which  Colouring  is  in  a-  Picture. 
The  colours  well  chofen,  in  their  proper  places,  together  witH 
the  lights  and  (hadows  which  belong  to  them,  lighten  the  de- 
fign, and  make  it  pleafing  to  the  eye.  The  Words,  the  Ex- 
preffions,  the  Tropes  and  Figures,  the  Verification,  and  all 
the  other  elegancies  of  found,  as  cadences,  turns  of  words 
upon  the  thought,  and:  many  other  things,  which  are  all  parts 
of  expreffion,  perform  exactly  the  fame  office  both  in  Dramatic 
and  Epic  Poetry.  Our  Author  calls  colouring,  "  lena  fororis  ;" 
in  plain  English,  the  Bawd  of  her-  Sifter,,  the  defign  or  draw- 
ing ;  (he  clothes,  me  drefTes  her  up,  me  paints  her,  me  makes 
her  appear  more  lovely  than  naturally  ihe  is,  me  procures 
for  the  defign,  and  makes  lovers  for  her;  for  the  defign  of 
itfelf  is  only  fo>many  naked  lines.  Thus  in  Poetry,  the  Ex- 
preffion is  that  which  charms  the  reader,  and  beautifies  the 
Defign,  which  is  only  the  outlines  of  the  fables.  It  is  true, 
the  defign  muft  of  itfelf  be  good;  if  it  be  vicious,  or,  in  one 
word,  unpleafing,  the  coft  of  colouring  is  thrown  away  upon 
it.  It  is  an  ugly  woman  in  a  rich  habit,  fet  out  with  jewels ; 
nothing  can  become  her.  But  granting  the  defign  to  be  mode- 
rately good,  it  is  like  an  excellent  complexion  with  indifferent 
features  5  the  white  and  red  well  mingled  on  the  face,  make 
what  was  before  but  pafiable,.  appear  beautiful.  "  Operum 
Colores"  is  the  very  word  which  Horace  ufes  to  fignify  Words 

and, 


176  A      P      P      E      N      D      I      X. 

and   elegant  Expreffion,   of  which   he  himfelf  was  fo  great 
Mafter  in  his  Odes.      Amongft  the  Antients,  Zeuxis  was  moft 
famous  for  his  colouring;  amongft  the  Moderns,   Titian  and 
Correggio.     Of  the  two  antient  Epic  Poets,    who  have  fo  far 
excelled  all  the  moderns,,  the  Invention  and  Defign   were  the 
particular  talents  of  Homer.     Virgil   muft  yield    to  him    in 
both ;   for  the  defign  of  the  Latin   was   borrowed   from    the 
Grecian :    But   the   "  Diclio  Virgiliana,"    the   Expreflion    of 
Virgil,  his  Colouring,   was  incomparably  the  better ;  and  in 
that  I  have  always  endeavoured   to  copy  him.     Moft  of  the 
pedants,  I  know,  maintain  the  contrary,  and  will  have  Homer 
excel  even  in  this  part.     But  of  all  people,   as   they  are  the 
moft   ill-mannered,    fo   they    are  the   worft  judges,    even   of 
words  which   are  their  province;   they  feldom  know   more 
than  the  grammatical  conftruclion,  unlefs  they  are  born  with 
a  poetical  genius,  which  is  a  rare  portion  amongft  them  :  Yet 
fome,    I    know,    may   ftand    excepted,    and    fuch    I    honour. 
Virgil  is  fo  exact  in  every  word,  that  none  can  be  changed  but 
for  a  worfe ;   nor  any  one  removed  from  its  place,   but  the 
harmony  will  be  altered.     He  pretends  fometimes  to  trip;  but 
it  is  only  to  make  you  think  him  in  danger  of  a  fall,   when 
he  is  moft  fecure.     Like  a  fkilful  dancer  on  the  ropes  (if  you 
will  pardon  the  meannefs  of  the  fimilitude)  who  flips  willingly 
and  makes  a  feeming  ftumble,   that  you  may  think  him  in 
great  hazard  of  breaking  his  neck,  while  at  the  fame  time  he 
is  only  giving  you  a  proof  of  liis  .dexterity.     My  late  Lord 
Rofcommon  was  often  pleafed  with  this  reflection,  and  with 
the  examples  of  it  in  this  admirable  Author. 

I  have  not  leifure  -to  run  through  the  whole  comparifon  of 
lights  and  fhadows  with  tropes  and  figures;  yet  I  cannot  but 
take  notice  of  metaphors,  which,  like  them,  have  power  to 

leflen 


APPENDIX,  177 

leflen  or  greaten  any  thing.     Strong  and  glowing  colours  are 
the  juft  refemblances  of  bold  metaphors,  but  both  mutt  be 
judicioully  applied;  for  there  is  a  difference  betwixt  Daring 
and  Fool-hardinefs.     Lucan  and  Statius  often  ventured  them 
too  far ;   our  Virgil  never.     But  the  great  defeat  of  the  Phar- 
falia  and  the  'Thebals  was.  in  the  defign  -y  if  that  had   been 
more  perfect,   we  might  have  forgiven  many  of  their  bold 
ftrokes  in  the  colouring,  or  at  leaft  excufed  them;  yet  fome 
of  them  are  fuch  as  Demofthenes  or  Cicero  could  not  have  de- 
fended*    Virgil,  if  he  could  have  feen  the  firft  verfes  of  the 
Sylvte,  would  have  thought  Statius  mad  in  his  fuftian  defcrip- 
iion  of  the  Statue  on  the  Brazen  Horfe  :  But  that  Poet  was 
always  in  a  foam  at  his  fetting  out,  even  before  the  motion  of 
the  race  had  warmed  him.     The  fobernefs  of  Virgil  whom  he 
read,   it  feems  to  little  purpofe,   might  hsve  fhewn  him  the 
difference  betwixt '. "  Arm  a  virumque  cano,  and  Magnanimum 
seacidem,  formidatamque  tonanti  progeniem."  But  Virgil  knew 
how  to  rife  by  degrees  in  his  expreffions  :   Statius  was  in  his 
towering  heights  at  the  firft  ftretch  of  his  pinions.     The  de- 
fcription   of  his   running  horfe,  juft  ftarting  in   the  funeral 
games  for  Archemorus,    though  the  verfes  are  wonderfully 
fine,   are  the  true  image  of  their  author  : 
Stare  adeo  nefcit,  pereunt  veftigia  mille 
Ante  fugam  $  abfentemque  ferit  gravis  ungula  campum. 
Which  would  coft  me  an  hour,  if  I  had  the  leifure  to  tranflate 
them,   there  is  fo  much  of  beauty  in  the  original.     Virgil,  as 
he  better  knew  his  colours,  fo  he  knew  better  how  and  where 
to  place  them.     In  as  much  hafte  as  I  am,   I  cannot  forbear 
giving  one  example.:  It  is  faid  of  him,  that  he  read  the  fecond, 
fourth,  and  fixth  books  of  his  ^Eneis  to  Auguftus  Casfar.     In 
the  fixth  (which  we  are  fare  he  read,  becaufe  we  know  Oc- 

Z  tavia 


i78  APPENDIX. 

tavia  was  prefent,  who  rewarded  him  fo  bountifully  for  the 
twenty  verfes  which  were  made  in  honour  of  her  deceafed  Ion 
Marcellus) ;  in  this  lixth  book,  I  fay,  the  Poet,  fpeaking  of 
Mifenus,  the  trumpeter,  fays, 

:< Quo  non  prasftantior  alter, 

JEre  ciere  viros, = — 

and  broke  off  in  the  hemiftich,  or  midft  of  the  verfe ;  but  in 
the  very  reading,  feized  as  it  were  -with  a  divine  fury,  he  made 
up  the  latter  part  of  the  hemiftich  with  thefe  following 

words., 

• Martemque  accendere  cantu. 

How  warm,  nay,  how  glowing  a  colouring  is  this  !  In  the 
beginning  of  the  verfe,  the  word  as,  or  brafs,  was  taken  for 
a  trumpet,  becaufe  the  inftrument  was  made  of  that  metal, 
which  of  itfelf  was  fine;  but  in  the  latter  end,  which  was 
made  extempore,  you  fee  three  metaphors,  Martemque, 

accendere,-, cantu.     Good  Heavens  !  how  the  plain  fenfe  is 

raifed  by  the  beauty  of  the  words.  But  this  was  Happinefs, 
the  former  might  be  only  Judgment.  This  was  the  "  curiofa 
felicitas"  which  Petronius  attributes  to  Horace.  It  is  the 
pencil  thrown  luckily  full  upon  the  horfe's  mouth,  to  exprefs 
the  foam,  which  the  Painter,  with  all  his  ikill,  could  not 
perform  without  it.  Thefe  hits  of  words  a  true  Poet  often 
finds,  as  I  may  fay,  without  feeking;  but  he  knows  their 
value  when  he  finds  them,  and  is  infinitely  pleafed.  A  bad 
Poet  may  fometimes  light  on  them,  but  he  difcerns  not  a 
diamond  from  a  Briftol  ftone ;  and  would  have  been  of  .the 
cock's  mind  in  jEfop,  a  grain  of  Barley  would  have  pleafed 
him  better  than  the  jewel.  The  lights  and  madows  which 
belong  to  colouring,  put  me  in  mind  of  that  verfe  of  Horace, 
Hoc  amat  obfcurum,  vult  hoc  fub  luce  videri. 

Some 


A      P      P      E      N      D      I      X.  179 

Some  parts  of  a  Poem  require  to  be  amply  written,  and  with 
all  the  force  and  elegance  of  words :  others  mud  be  caft  into 
fhadows;  that  is,  patted  over  in  filence,  or  but  faintly  touched. 
This  belongs  wholly  to  the  judgment  of  the  Poet  and  the 
Painter.  The  moft  beautiful  parts  of  the  Picture  and  the 
Poem  muft  be  the  mod:  finished  j  the  colours  and  words  moft 
chofen  j  many  things  in  both,  which  are  not  deferving  of  this 
care,  muft  be  miffed  off,  content  with  vulgar  expreffions ; 
and  thofe  very  fhort,  and  left,  as  in  a  fhadow,  to  the  imagi- 
nation of  the  reader. 

We  have  the  proverb,  "  Manum  de  tabula,"  from  the 
Painters,  which  fignifies  to  know  when  to  give  over,  and  to 
lay  by  the  pencil.  Both  Homer  and  Virgil  pradifed  this 
precept  wonderfully  well ;  but  Virgil  the  better  of  the  two. 
Homer  knew  that  when  Hedor  was  flain,  Troy  was  as  good 
as  already  taken;  therefore  he  concludes  his  adion  there: 
For  what  follows  in  the  funerals  of  Patroclus,  and  the  re- 
demption of  Hedor's  body,  is  not,  properly  fpeaking,  a  part 
of  the  main  adion.  But  Virgil  concludes  with  the  death  of 
Turnus ;  for,  after  that  difficulty  was  removed,  ^neas  might 
marry,  and  eftabliih  the  Trojans  when  he  pleafed.  This  rule 
I  had  before  my  eyes  in  the  conclufion  of  the  Spanifli  Friar, 
when  the  difcovery  was  made  that  the  King  was  living; 
which  was  the  knot  of  the  Play  untied :  the  reft  is  mut  up  in 
the  compafs  of  fome  few  lines,  becaufe  nothing  then  hindered 
the  happinefs  of  Torifmond  and  Leonora.  The  faults  of  that 
Drama  are  in  the  kind  of  it,  which  is  Tragi- comedy.  But 
it  was  given  to  the  people,  and  I  never  writ  any  thing  for 
rnyfelf  but  Anthony  and  Cleopatra. 

This  remark,  I  muft  acknowledge,  is  not  fo  proper  for  the 
colouring  as  the  defign;  but  it  will  hold  for  both.  As  the 

Z  2  words, 


i8o  APPENDIX. 

,words,  &c.  are  evidently  fhewn  to  be  the  cloathing  of  the 
.thought,  in  the  fame  fenfe  as  colours  are  the  cloathing  of  the 
.defign  ;  fo  the  Painter  and  the  Poet  ought  to  judge  exa&ly 
,when  the  colouring  and  expreffions  are  .perfect,  and  then  to 
think  their  work  is  truly  finished.  Apelles  faid  of  Protogenes, 
that  "  he  knew  not  when  to  give  over."  '  A  work  may  be 
over- wrought  as  well  as  under-wrought :  Too  much*  labour 
ofteA  takes  away  the  fpirit,  by  adding  to  the  poliming;  fo 
that  there  remains  nothing  but  a  dull  corre&nefs,  a  piece 
without  any  confiderable  faults,  but  with  few  beauties ;  for 
when  the  fpirits  are  drawn  off,  .there  is  nothing  but  a  "  caput 
mortuum."  Statius  never  thought  an  expreffion  could  be 
bold  enough ;  and  if  a  bolder  could  be  found,  he  rejected  the 
firft.  Virgil  had  judgment  enough  to  know  Daring  was  ne- 
cefTary ;  but  he  knew,  the  difference  betwixt  a  glowing  colour 
and  a  glaring;  as  when  he  compared  the  fliocking  of  the 
fleets  at  A&ium  to  the  juftling  of  iflands  rent  from  their 
foundations  and  meeting  in  ,-the  ocean.  He  knew  the  com- 
parifon  was  forced  beyond  Nature,  and  raifcd  too  high ;  he 
therefore  foftens  the  metaphor  with  a  credas.  You  would 
almoft  believe  that  mountains  or  iilaads  ruilied  againfl  each 
Qtherj 

. -T-T-  Credas  innare  revulfas 

Cycladas ;   aut  montes  concurrere  montibus  sequos. 

-But  here  I  muft  break  off  without  rmifhing  the  difcourfe. 

"  Cynthius  aurem  vellit,  &  admonuit,  &c."  the  things 
which  are  behind  are  of  too  nice  a  confideration  for  an  EfTay 
begun  and  ended  in  twelve  mornings ;  and  perhaps  the  Judges 
.of  Painting  and  Poetry,  -when  I  tell  them  how  fhort  a  time  it 
ccft  me.  may  make  me. the  fame  anfwer  which  my  late  Lord 
Rochefter  made  to. one,  who,  to  commend  a  Tragedy,  faid, 


APPENDIX.  181 

it  was  written  in  three  weeks :  "  How  the  Devil  could  he  be 
fo  long  about  it  ?  for  that  Poem  was  infamoufly  bad,"  and  I 
doubt  this  Parallel  is  little  better;  and  then  the  mortnefs  of 
the  time  is  fo  far  from  being  a  commendation,  that  it  is 
fcarcely  an  excufe.  But  if  1  have  really  drawn  a  portrait  to 
the  knees,  or  an  half-length,  with  a  tolerable  likenefs,  then 
I  may  plead  with  fome  juftice  for  myfelf,  that  the  reft  is  left 
to  the  Imagination.  Let  fome  better  Artift  provide  himfelf 
of  a  deeper  canvas;  and  taking  thefe  hints  which  I  have  given, 
fet  the  figure  on  its  legs,  and  finiih  it  in  the  Invention,  De- 
fign,  and  Colouring. 


EPISTLE 


PI      S      T      L      E 


O    F 


MR      P      O      p 


T    O 


MR     J     E     R     V     A     S. 


The  following  elegant  Epiftle  has  conilantly  been 
prefixed  to  all  the  Editions  of  Du  FRESNOY,  which 
have  been  publifhed  fince  JERVAS  corre&ed  the 
tranflation  of  DRYDEN.  It  is,  therefore,  here  re- 
printed, in  order  that  a  Poem  which  does  fo  much 
honour  to  the  original  Author  may  ftill  accompany 
his  work,  although  the  Tranflator  is  but  too  con- 
fcious  how  much  fo  mafterly  a  piece  of  Veriification 
on  the  fubject  of  Painting,  will,  by  being  brought 
thus  near  it,  prejudice  his  own  lines. 


T  O 


T    O 

MR-       J       E       R       V       A       S, 

WITH 
FRESNOY's    ART    OF    PAINTING, 

Tranflated  by  Mr.  D  R  Y  D  E  N.  * 

THIS  verfe  be  thine,  my  friend,  nor  thou  refufe 
This,   from  no  venal  or  ungrateful  Mufe. 
Whether  thy  hand  flrike  out  fome  free  defign, 
Where  life  awakes,   and  dawns  at  every  line  -y 
Or  blend  in  beauteous  tints  the  colour'd  mafs, 
And  from  the  canvas  call  the  mimic  face  : 
Read  thefe  inftructive  leaves,   in  which  confpire 
FRESNOY'S  clofe  Art,  and  DRYDEN'S  native  fire  j 
And  reading  wifh,  like  theirs,  our  fate  and  fame, 
So  mix'd  our  fludies,  and  fo  join'd  our  name ; 
Like  them  to  mine  through  long-fucceeding  age, 
So  juft  thy  fkill,   fo  regular  my  rage. 

Smit  with  the  love  of  Sifter- Arts  we  came, 
.And  met  congenial,  mingling  flame  with  flame; 
.Like  friendly  colours  found  them  both  unite, 
.And  each  from  each  contract  new  ftrength  and  light. 
How  oft  in  pleafing  talks  we  wear  the  day, 
While  Summer  funs  roll  unperceiv'd  away? 
How  oft  our  flowly-growing  works  impart, 
While  images  reflect  from  art  to  art  ? 

A  a  How 

*  Firft  printed  in  1717* 


,86  APPENDIX. 

How  oft  review ;   each  finding,  like  a  friend, 
Something  to  blame,  and  fomething  to  commend  ? 

What  flatt'ring  fcenes  our  wand'ring  fancy  wrought* 
Rome's  pompous  glories  rifing  to  our  thought ! 
Together  o'er  the  Alps  methinks  we  fly,. 
Fir'd  with  ideas  of  fair  Italy. 
With  thee,   on  Raphael's  monument  I  mourn,. 
Or  wait  infpiring  dreams  at  Maro's  urn  : 
With  thee  repofe,   where  Tully  once  was  laid^ 
Or  leek  fome  ruin's  formidable  made ; 
While  Fancy  brings  the  vaniih'd  pile  to  view, 
And  builds  imaginary  Rome  anew. 
Here  thy  well-ftudy'd  marbles  fix  our  eye ; 
A  fading  frefco  here  demands  a  iigh  : 
Each  heavenly  piece  unwearied  we  compare, 
Match  Raphael's  Grace  with  thy  lov'd  Guido's  Air, 
Caracci's  Strength,   Coreggioas  fofter  Line, 
Paulo's  free  Stroke,  and  Titian's  Warmth  divine. 

How  finim'd  with  illuftrious  toil  appears 
This  final],  well-polifh'd  gem,  the  work  of  years !  * 
Yet  {till  how  faint  by  precept  is  expreft 
The  living  image  in  the  Painter's  breaft  ? 
Thence  endlefs  flreams  of  fair  ideas  flow, 
Strike  in  the  fketch,  or  in  the  picture  glow; 
Thence  Beauty,   waking  all  her  forms,   fupplies 
An  Angel's  fweetnefs,  or  Bridgwater's  eyes. 

Mufe!   at  that  name  thy  facred  forrows  (lied, 
I  Thofe  tears  eternal  that  embalm  the  dead  : 

Call 
*  Frefnoy  employed  above  twenty  years  in  fini/hing  this  Poem. 


APPENDIX.  187 

Call  round  her  tomb  each  objeft  of  defire, 
Each  purer  frame  inforrn'd  with  purer  fire  : 
Bid  her  be  all  that  chears  or  foftens  life, 
The  tender  fitter,   daughter,   friend,  and  wife ! 
Bid  her  be  all  that  makes  mankind  adore  j 
Then  view  this  marble,   and  be  vain  no  more ! 

Yet  fKll  her  charms  in  breathing  paint  engage ; 
Her  modeft  cheek  mall  warm  a  future  age. 
Beauty,  frail  flower,  that  ev'ry  feafon  fears, 
Blooms  in  thy  colours  for  a  thoufand  years. 
Thus  Churchill's  race  fhall  other  hearts  furprizc, 
And  other  beauties  envy  Wortley's  *  eyes, 
Each  plealing  Blount  (hall  endlefs  fmiles  beflow, 
And  foft  Belinda's  blufh  for  ever  glow. 

Oh  !   lafting  as  thofe  colours  may  they  mine, 
Free  as  thy  ftroke,  yet  faultlefs  as  thy  line  ! 
New  graces  yearly,  like  thy  works,   difplay ; 
Soft  without  weaknefs,   without  glaring  gay  -, 
Led  by  fome  rule,  that  guides,   but  not  conflrains  ; 
And  finifh'd  more  through  happinefs  than  pains ! 
The  kindred  Arts  fhall  in  their  praife  confpire, 
One  dip  the  Pencil,   and  one  firing  the  JLvyre. 
Yet  mould  the  Graces  all  thy  figures  place, 
And  breathe  an  air  divine  on  ev'ry  face  j 

A  a  2  Yet 

#  In  one  of  Dr.  Warburton's  Editions  of  Pope,  by  which  copy  this  has  been 
corn&ed,  the  name  is  changed  to  IVorJley.  If  that  reading  be  not  an  error  of  the 
prefs,  I  fuppofe  the  Poet  altered  the  name  after  he  had  quarrelled  with  Lady 
M.  W.  Montague,  and,  being  offended  at  her  Wit,  thus  revenged  himfelf  on 
her  Beauty. 


i88  APPENDIX. 

Yet  mould  the  Mufes  bid  my  numbers  roll, 
Strong  as  their  charms,  and  gentle  as  their  foul  $ 
With  Zeuxis'  Helen  thy  Bridgwater  vie, 
And  thefe  be  fung  till  Granville's  Myra  die ; 
Alas !  how  little  from  the  grave  we  claim  ? 
Thou,  but  preferv'ft  a  Face,  and  I  a  Name, 


A 


CHRONOLOGICAL     LIST 


O    F 


P     A     I    N     T     E     R     3 


From  the  Revival  of  the  Art  to  the  Beginning  of 
the  prefent  Century. 


A  a  3  Inftead 


Inftead  of  the  fhort  account  of  the  lives  of  the 

Painters  by  Mr.  GRAHAM,  which  has  been  annexed 

to  the  later  Editions  of  Mr.  BRYDEN'S  Translation, 

I  have  thought  proper  to  infert,    at  the  conclufion 

of  this  work,  the  following  Chronological  Lift  drawn 

up    by  the  late  Mr,  GRAY,  when  in  Italy,  for  his 

own  ufe,  and  which  I  found  fairly  tranfcribed  amongft 

thofe  papers  which  his  friendfhip  bequeathed  to  me. 

Mr.  GRAY  was  as  diligent  in  his  refearches  as  correct 

in  his  judgment ;   and  has  here  employed  both  tliefe 

talents  to  point  out  hr  one  column  the  places  where 

the  principal  works  of  each  Mafter  are  to  be  found, 

and  in  another  the  different  parts  of  the  art  in  which 

his  own  tafte  led  him  to  think  that  they  feverally 

excelled  *.      It  is  prefumed,    therefore,    that  thefe 

two  additions   to  the  names  and  dates  will  render 

this  little  work  more  ufeful  than  any  thing  of  the 

Catalogue  kind  hitherto  printed  on  the  fubject.      For 

more  copious  Biographical  information,  the  reader 

is  referred  to  Mr.  PILKINGTON'S  Dictionary. 


See  Memoirs  of  Mr.  Gray,  Note  on  Letter  XIV.  Sift,  II, 


i92  A       P       P       E      .N      D      I      X. 

A     CHRONOLOGICAL     LIST 


Names. 

Studied  under 

Excelled  in 

Giovanni  Cimabue 
Andrea  TafH 

certain  Greeks     - 
Apollonius,  a  'Greek 

firft  revived  Painting 
revived  Mofaic     - 

r*  ' 

C^imaSiif* 

•  .  .    i    i  o  fi'ff 

Buonamico  Bufralmacco    -     - 

Andrea  TafH 

ner  of  the  Greeks 

5  Ambrogio  Lorenzetti     - 

Giotto 

Pietro  Cavallini 

Giotto     - 

Simon  Memmi 

Giotto      - 

Andrea  Orgagna       - 

imitated  Giotto     -     - 

Tomafo  Giottino 

imitated  Giotto     - 

10  Paolo  Uccello 

Antonio  Venetiano 

firft  who  ftudied   per- 

fpe£ive 

Maflblino      - 

Lorenzo  Ghiberti  and 

gave  more  grace  to  his 

Mafaccio          - 

Gher.  Stamina 
Maflblino 

figures  and  drapery 

Fra.  Giov.  Angelico  da  Fiefole 

Giotci.no       -           - 

Antonello  da  Mefiina 

John  Van  Eyck 

introduced  oil  Painting 

into  Italy 

*5  Fra.  Filippo  Lippi 

Mafaccio 

began  to  paint  figures 

larger  than  life 

Andrea  del  CaftagnodettoDegl' 

Domenico  Venetiano 

painted   in  oil  firft.  at 

Impiccati 

Florence 

Gentile  del  Fabriano     -     -     - 

Giovanni  da  Fiefole 

Giacomo  Bellini 

Gentile  del  Fabriano 

Gentile     7  n  n-   • 
20  Giovanni  (  Bellmi 

Giacomo  their  father 

CofmoRoffilli      - 

lively  colouring 

Domenico  Ghirlandaio     - 

Alefland.  Baldovinetti 

genteel  defigning  and 

good  airs 

Andrea  Verocchio 

Giacomo  Squarcione 

observation  of  perfpcc- 

Andrea  Mantegna 

tive 

25  Filippo  'Lippi 

Fra.  Filippo  his  father, 

and  Sandro  Boticelli 

1 

Pietro  Perugino 

Andrea  Verocchio 

Bernardino  Pintaricchio 

Pietro  Perugino 

Francefco  Francia 

Marco  Zoppo      -      - 

firft  confiderable  Mn- 

fter  of  the  BologneU? 

School 

29  Bartolomeo  Ramenghi,  detto  11 

Francefco  Francia 

foft  and  fiefhy  colour- 

Bagnacavallo 

ing 

•Hiftory 


APPENDIX. 
Of    MODERN    PAINTERS. 


193 


Painted 

Country,  Place,   and 
Year  of  their  Death. 

Aged 

Principal  Works  are  at 

Hiftory 

Florence,  Florence,  1300 

60 

Imoft  all  peri/bed. 

Hiftory 

Florence      -       -     1294 

81 

nknown. 

Hiftory 

Florence      -      -     1336 

60 

lome^  St.  Peter's,  Arezzo  —  Mofaics* 

Hiftory 

Florence      -      -     1340 

78 

Jifa,  Campo-Santo. 

5  Hiftory 

Sienna       -         -     *35° 

83 

Hiftory 

Rome     -                   1364 

85 

lome,  St.  Paolo  fuor  della  Gitta*. 

Portraits 

Sienna,   Florence,    1345 

60 

Hiftory 

Florence      -       -     1389 

60 

"lorence,  the  Dome. 

Hiftory 

Florence      -       -     I35(3 

32 

10  Birds,  fome  Hiftory 

Florence      -      -     1432 

«3 

Hiftory 

"lorence   -        -     1418 

37 

Hiftory 

rlorence      -      -     1443 

24 

Hiftory,  Miniatures 

rlorence,  Rome       1455 

68 

"lorence,  the  Palace,  in  the  Apart- 

ments of  the  old  Pictures. 

Hiftory 

VIeffina     -         -     1475 

49 

15  Hiftory 

rlorences  Rome      1438 

Florence,  the  Palace. 

Hiftory 

Hiftory  •      - 

rlorence     -        -     1480 

71 

Hiftory 

Verona 

80 

Rome,  S.  Giov.  Laterano,   S.  Mar; 

Hiftory 

Venice      -         -     1470 



Maggiore. 

20  Hiftory 

Venice       -        -     1501 

80 

Venice,  and  in  fome  Cabinets. 

Hiftory 

Venice      -        -     1512 

90 

Hiftory 

Florence,  Rome       148^ 
Florence      -      -     J49' 

68 

44 

Rome,  Capella  Siftiha. 
Florence,  Palace,  Clofet  of  Madama. 

Hiftory 
Hiftory 

25  Hiftory 

Florence   -         -     1488 
Padua,  Mantua       1517 

Florence      -      -     1505 

ll 

Florence,  Rome,  Apartments  of  In- 
nocent 8,  at  the  Belvedere  Chapel. 

Hiftory      - 
Hiftory      - 

Rnefia,  Rome    -     1524 
Florence,  Sienna     151; 

78 
59 

Rome,  Pal.  Borghefe,  &c. 
Sienna,  Library  of  the  Dome,  Rome, 
Santa  Croce  in  Gierufalemme  j  Ma- 

donna dell  Popolo,  &c. 

Hiftory      - 

Bologna  —       -     1518 

68 

Bologna,  in  feveral  Churches. 

29  Hiftory      - 

Bologna      -       -     154 

48 

Bologna, 

B  b 


Innocena* 


194 


APPENDIX. 


Names. 


Innocenzo  Francuzzi,    Jetto 

da  Imola 
Francefco  Turbido,  detto  II 

Mauro 

Luca  Signorelli 
*  Lionardo  da  Vinci     - 


*  Giorgio  Giorgione 

*  Antonio  da  Correggio 


Mariotto  Albertinelli 
Baccio,  detto  Fra.  Bartoloraeo 

di  S.  Marco 
Pietro  di  Cofimo 

10  Raphaelino  del.Garbp     - 
*  Michael  AngeloBuonarotta 


-•*  Raffaelle  Sanzio  d'Urbino 


*  TitianoVecelH 


Domenico  Puligo 
15  Timoteo  Urbino 

Vincenzo  da  San  Geminiano 
Lorenzo  di  Credi 


Balthazar  Peruzzi 


Studied  under 


Francefco  Francia 

*  Giorgione 

Pietro  della  Francefca 


imitated  Lionardo's 
manner 


CofmoRofelu     -       - 
Cofmo  Rofelli      -      - 

Cofimo  Rofelli     -     -. 
Filippo  Lippi 
Dominico  Ghirlandaio 


Pietro  Perugino ;  cor- 
rected his  manner  up- 
on feeing  the  works 
of  Lionardo  da  Vinci 
and  Michael  Angelo 

Giovanni  Bellini 


DomenicoGhirlandaio 

Rafaelle 

Rafaelle 

Andrea  Verocchio  imi- 
tated Lionardo  da 
Vinci 


Excelled  in 


corre&  drawing    -     - 


exquifite  defigning     ~ 


management  of  the 
clair-obfcure,  and 
colouring 

divine  colouring  and 
morbidezza  of  his 
flefh;  angelical  grace 
and  joyous  airs  of  his 
figures  and  clair-ob- 
fcure 


great  corre&nefs  of  de- 
fign,  grand  and  terri- 
ble fubje&s,  profound 
knowledge  of  the  ano- 
tomical  part 
in  every  part  of  paint- 
ing,  but  chiefly  in 
the  thought,    com- 
pofition,  expreflion, 
and  drawing 

the  clair-obfcure  and 
all  the  beauties  of 
colouring 

the  fame  as  his  Matter 


Hiftory 


P      P      E      N      D 


I      X. 


Painted 

Country,   Place,    and 
Year  of  their  Death. 

Aged 

Principal  Works  are  at 

Hiflory      - 

Bologna       - 



Bologna, 

Portraits      -      - 

Verona      -•        •*     1521 

81 

' 

Hiftory      - 
Hiftory  and  Por- 
traits 

5  Hiftory  and  Por- 
traits 

Cortona      -       -     1521 
Milan,  Paris-      -     1517 

Caftle  Franco  nel  Tre- 
vigiano,  Venice,  1511 

82 
75 

33 

Milan,  the  Dominicans,   the  Acade- 
my; Florence,  Pal.  Pitti  ;  Rome,, 
Pal.  Borghefe,  Barberini. 
Venice;  Florence,  Pal.  Pitti  j  Rome, 
Pal.  Pamphili. 

Hiftory  and  Por- 
traits 

Hiftory      - 
Hiftory      - 

Corregio    nel    Reggiano 
J534 

Florence      -•     -     1520 
Florence      -      -     1517 

40 

45 
4* 

Modena,    the    Duke's    Colle&ions  j 
Parma,  the  Dome,   Saint  Antonio 
Abbate,  S.  Giovanni  del  monte, 
fan  Sepulcro  ;  Florence,  the  Palace  ; 
Paris,  the  Palais  Royal,  &c.  Naples,, 
the  King's  Collections. 

Grotefques   and 
monfters 
I  Q  Hiftory      - 

Florence      -      -     1521 
Florence     -       -     1529 

80 
58 

Hiftory     - 

Chiufi,  preflb  d'Arezzo  ; 
Rome      -      -     1564 

90 

Rome,  Capella  Seftina,  Capella  Pau- 
lina, S.  Giovanni  Latuanoj  Flo- 
rence, the  Palace. 

Hiftory  and  Por- 
traits 

Hiftory  and  Por- 
traits 

Urbino,  Rome  -    1520 

Cadore  nelFriulefe;     - 
Venice       -        -     5576 

37 
99 

Rome,  the  Vatican,  S,  Pietro,  inMon- 
torio;  S.  Aguftino,  the  Lungara,  &c. 
Florence,  the  Palace  ;  France,  Ver- 
failles,  the  Palais  Royal  ;   England, 
Hampton-  Court;  Naples,  the  King's 
Colleaion. 
Venice;   Rome;   in  many  Collec- 
tions, &c. 

Hiftory      - 
ic  Hiftory      - 
Hiftory      - 
Hiftory      - 

Florence      -      -     1525 
Urbino      -         -      1524 
S.  Gcminiano    -     1527 
Florence   -         -     J53° 

5^ 
54 
52 

Rome  Madonna  della  Pace* 
Rome,  the  Vatican. 

Hiftory,  buildings 

Sienna,  Rome  -     1536 

55 

Rome,  Madonna  dclla  Pace. 

B  b  2 


Giovanni 


APPENDIX. 


Names. 


Giovanni   Francefco    Penni 
detto  il  Fattore 

*  Giulio  Romano 

Peligrino  di  Modena 
Pierino  Buonacorvi  detto  Pe- 

rin  del  Vago 
5  Giovanni  da  Udina 

*  Andrea  del  Sartp 


Francia  Bigio 

Sebaftiano  detto  Fradel  Piom- 
bo 


Orazio  Sammachini 

10  Lorenzetto  Sabattini 
Profpero  Fontana 
Lavinia  Fontana 
Pelegrino  Tibaldi 

Primaticcio,  detto  il  Bologna 

15  Nicolo  Bolognefe,  detto  Mef- 

fer  Nicolo 
II  Doflb 

Bernazzano  da  Milano 

Giov.  Martino  da  Udina 
Pelegrinoda  fan  Danielo 
20  Giovanni    Antonio    Regillo, 
detto  Licinio  da  Pordenone 
Girolamo  da  Trevigi 
Polidoro  da  Caravaggio 


II  Maturino 


Studied  under 


Rafaelle 

Rafaelle 

Rafaelle 
Rafaelle 

Rafaelle 

Pietro  di  Cofimo 


Mariotto  Albertinelli 

Giov. Bellini;  II Gior- 
gione,  M.  Angelo 


II  Bagnacavallo,  Inno- 
cenzo  d'Imola 

the  fame 

the  fame 

Profpeco,  her  father  - 

II  Bagnacavallo,  Inno- 
nocenzo  d'Imola 

the  fame;  Julio  Ro- 
mano 

Primaticcio 

Lorenzo  Cofta,  Titian 


Giov.  Bellini 
the  fame 
Giorgione 


Rafael 


Rafael 


Excelled  in 


good  imitation  of  his 
Mafter,  and  great 
difpatch 

his  Mailer's  excellen- 
cies 


animals,  flowers,  and 
fruits 

natural  and  graceful 
airs,and  correct  draw- 
ing; a  bright  manner 
of  colouring 

painted  in  company 
with  and  like  Andrea 

painted  in  the  ftrong 
and  correct  manner 
of  this  laft,  and  co- 
loured better 


a  ftrong  Michael  An- 

gelico  manner 
gentilenefs         -        . 


fine  colouring 


the  corre£tnefs  of  de- 
fign  and  imitation  of 
the  antique,  chiefly  in 
chiaro-fcuro 

the  fame ;  they  always 
painted  together 


Hiftory 


A 

Painted 

P      P      E      N 

Country,    Place,    and 
Year  of  their  Death. 

E 

Aged 

>      I      X.                    197 

Principal  Works  are  at 

Hiftory      - 

Rome,  Naples         1528 

40 

Rome,  the  Vatican;  Lungara. 

Hiftory      - 

Hiftory      - 
Hiftory      - 

Rome,  Mantua       1546 

Modena      -       -     1538 
Florence,  Rome      1547 

54 
47 

Rome,   Vatican,  &c.    Mantua,   the 
Palace  Te'. 

Rome,  Vatican  j  Genoa,  Pal.  Doria. 

5  Grotefques 

Udina,  Rome    -     1564 

70 

Rome,  Vatican,  &c. 

Hiftory,  Portraits 

Florence      -      -     1530 

42 

Florence,  the  Palace,  Monafterio  de 
Scalzi,  &c.  Rome,  Pal.  Borghefe, 
&c>  Naples,  King's  Collection. 

Hiftory      - 

Florence     -       -     

4i 

Hiftory,  Portraits 

Venice,  Rome         1547 

62 

Rome,  S.  Pietro  in  montorio,  Cap. 
Chigi  j  France,  Palais  Royal, 

Hiftory       -       - 

Bologna      -      -     1577 

45 

i 

10  Hiftory 
Hiftory,  Portraits 
Hiftory,  Portraits 
Hiftory      - 

Hiftory      - 
15  Hiftory 

Hiftory,   land- 
fcapes 
Animals,      land- 
fcapes,  and  fruits 
Hiftory       - 
Hiftory      - 
20  Hiftory,  Portraits 

Hiftory,  buildings 
Hiftory       -       - 

Bologna       -      -    — 



Bologna,  the  Academy  j   Spain,  the 
Efcurial. 
Fontainbleau  ;  Chateau    de   Beaure- 
gard  pres  de  Blois. 
Fontainbleau. 

Venice. 

Rome,  Pal.  Barberini,  Mafchera 
d'Oro,  Cafa  di  Belloni. 

Bologna      -       -     1602 
Bologna,  Milan       1592 

Bologna,  France     1570 
Modena     -       -     1572 

50 

70 

80 
60 

Milan        -       -     1550 

LJdina,  Venice  -     1564 
Venice       -        -     • 
Pordenone   nel   Friuli, 
Venice     -      -     1540 
[ITruigiano,  Engl.  1544 
Caravaggio,  Meifinai543 

70 
~56~ 

36 
5i 

Hiftory      - 

Florence     -      -     1527 

37 

B  b  3                                          *  Francefc* 

198 


APPENDIX; 


Names. 

Studied  under 

Excelled  in 

*  Francefco  Mazzuolo,  detto 

imitated  Rafael 

great  delicacy  and  gen- 

11  Parmeggiano 
Girolamo  Mezzuoli 

Francefco,  his  coufm 

tilenefs  of  drawing 
whom  he  always  imi- 

tated 

Giacomo  Palma,  detto 

Titian  and  others 

warm  and  mellow  tints 

11  Vecchio 

Lorenzo  Lotto 

imitated  Bellini   and 

5    Francefco  Monfignori 
Domenico  Beccafumi  o  Mec- 

Giorgione 
Bellini      '    - 
imitated  Pietro  Peru- 

carino 

gino 

Giacomo  Pontormo 

Lionardo     da    Vinci, 

Albertinellii  Andrea 

del  Sarto 

Girolamo  Genga 

Pietro  Perugtno 

Giov.   Antonio  da  Verzelli, 

detto  11  Sodoma 

10  Baftiano  Ariftotile 

Benvenuto  Garofalo 

Baldini,  Lorenzo  Cofta 

like  Rafael        - 

Girolamo  da  Carpi 

Garofalo,  he  imitated 

Giev.  Francefco  Bezzi,  detto 

Correggio 
Pelegrino  Tibaldi 

11  Nofadella 

Ercole  Procaccini         -         * 

the  fame 

*5  Bartolomeo  } 

&           V  Paflerotti 

the  fame 

tre  figli      3 

Francefco  Salviati 

Andrea  del  Sarto 

Giorgio  Vafari 

the  fame 

Daniel  Ricciarelli,    detto  da 

11   Sodoma;    Baldafar 

Volterra 

Peruzzi 

Taddeo  Zucchero           .„     - 

ftudied  Rafael      -      - 

20  Frederico  Zucchero 

painted  with  his  brother 

Bartolomeo  Cefi      - 

11  Nofadella       - 

Dionigi  Calvaft     - 
John  of  Bruges      - 

Profpero  Fontana 
Hubert  Van  Eyck      - 

faid  to  have  invented 

Oil-Painting 

Albert  Durer      - 

Hupfe  Martin 

25  Quintin   Matfys,    called    the 
Smith  of  Antwerp 

Nature,  high  finifhing 

Lucas   Jacob,   called    Luca 

Cornelius  Engelbert  - 

d'Ollanda 

Peter  Brugle,called  Old  Brugle 

Peter  Koek       -. 

Hiftory 


END 


IX.  199 


Painted 

Country,  Place,  and 
Year  of  their  Death 

Agec 

Principal  Works  are  at 

Hiftory      , 

Parma      -          -     1540 

36 

Parma,   the  Dome,   Madonna  della 

Steccata  ;  in  many  Collections 

Hiftory 

l^                     , 

Parma,  San  Sepolcro. 

Hiftory,  Portraits 

Venice       -        -     1596 

48 

Venice,  and  in  feveral  Collections. 

Hiftory,  Portraits 

Venice       -        -     1544 

36 

5    Portraits 

Venice       -        -     1519 

64 

Hiftory 

Sienna        -        -     J549 

Sienna,  Pavement  of  the  Dome, 

Hiftory 

Florence     -        -     1558 

65 

Florence. 

Hiftory 

Urbino       -        -     1551 

75 

Hiftory       - 

•  '   '  -  Sienna   -     1554 

10  Hiftory      - 

Florence      -      -     1551 

7° 

Hiftory      - 

Ferrara      -         -     1559 

78 

In  a  few  Collections. 

Hiftory     - 

Ferrara      -         -     1556 

55 

Hiftory      - 

Bologna     -       -     1571 

Bologna. 

Hiftory 

Boloo-na 

15  Hiftory 

Bologna      -       -     —  — 

Hiftory 

Florence     -       -     1563 

54 

?lorence. 

Hiftory,  Portraits 

Florence      -      -     1584 

68 

lome,   Santa  Croce;  Florence,   the 

Palace. 

Hiftory       - 

Volterra     -       -     1566 

57 

^ome,  S.  Trinitadel  Monte,  S.  Ago- 
ftino. 

Hiftory,  Portraits 

St.  Angelo  in  Vado,  nell' 

37 

lome,  the  Caprarola,  Pal.  Farnefe. 

Urbino,   Rome    1566 

20  Hiftory,  Portraits 

-                  Rome     1609 

66 

Rome,  feveral  Collections. 

Hiftory       - 

Bologna      -       -    

79 

Hiftory      - 
Hiftory,  Portraits 

Antwerp,  Bologna  1619 
Venlo  in  Guelders,  Bru- 

54 

Ghent,  the  Cathedral. 

ges        -         -       1470 

Hiftory,  Portiats 
25  Hiftory,  Portraits 

Nuremberg     -     -   1528 
Antwerp      -        -    1529 

57 
69 

n  many  Collections. 
Antwerp,  the  Cathedral  j   England, 

in  Collections. 

Hiftory,  Portraits 

Leyden        -        -    J533 

^eyden,  Hotel  de  Ville,  many  Col- 

lections, 

Brugle  near  Breda    1570 

60 

John 


2OO 


APPENDIX. 


Names. 


*  John  Holben,  called  Hans 

Holben 

Roger  Vandenfyde 
John  Schorel        - 
Matthias  Cock        - 
5    Martin  Heemfkirke 

Francois  Floris,  called  Franc- 
Flore 

Francefco  Vecelli     - 

Orazio  Vecelli       - 

Nadalino  di  Murano 
10  Damiano  Mazza      - 

Girolamo  di  Titiano 

Paris  Bordone 

Andrea  Schiavone 

Aleflandro  Bonvincino,  detto, 

II  Moretto 
*5  Girolamo  Romanino 

II  Mutiano  - 

Pirro'  Ligorio 


Dom.  Giulio  Clovio 


II  6ronzhio,  Angelo-AHon 
20  AlefTandro  Allori 

Giacomo  Semcnti 

Marcello  Venufto 

Marco  da  Faenza 

Girolamo  da  Sermonctta  - 
25  Battifta  Naldino 

Nicolo  del  Pomerancio     - 

Jean  Coufin        r 

Michael  Coxis 
John  Bol 

30  Peter  Porbus 
Antony  More 
George  Hoefnaghel 

Camillo  Procaccini 


Studied  under 


John  Van  Eyck    -     - 
Jacob  Cornill 

John  Schorel 
Lambart  de  Liege 

Titian,  his  brother     - 

Titian,  his  father 

Titian  - 

Titian  -         - 

Titian  -         - 

Titian  - 

Titian  - 
Titian,  imitated  Rafael 

Titian        - 

Titian,  Tad.Zucchero 

Giulio  Romano     -     - 


Giulio  Romano    -     - 


Giacomo  Pontormo 
Bronzino,  his  uncle 
Dionigi  Calvart  - 
Perin  del  Vaga  - 

Perin  del  Vaga     - 
II  Bronzino 


Van  Orlay,  Rafael 


John  Schorel 


Ercole,  his  father ; 
P  rofpero  Fontana 


Excelled  in 


great  Nature,  extreme 
finifliing 


chafte  and  gentile  co- 
louring, fomewhat  of 
Michael  Angelo  in, 
the  drawing 


commonly  upon  glafs 


a  dark,  ftrong,  expref- 
five  manner 

Hiftory, 


N      D 


r     x.  201 


Painted 

Country,  Place,  and 
Year  of  their  Death. 

Aged 

Principal  Works  are  at 

Hiftory,  Portraits 

Bafil,  London     -    1544 

46 

Bafil,  Hotel  de  Ville;  England   in 

many  Collections. 

Hiftory      - 

n 

Brufiels,  Hotel  de  Ville. 

Hiftory       - 

Alemaer,  Utrecht    1562 

67 

Landfcapes    -     - 

Antwerp       -       -    1565 

65 

5    Droll  figures 

rleemfkirke,  Haer- 

lem     -                 I574 

76 

Hiftory      - 

Antwerp      -       -    1570 

50 

p 

x^ortrsits      —       ~ 

\r     • 

Portraits,  Hiftory 

Venice       -          -    *579 

66 

Portraits      —        — 

1O  Hiftory    Portraits 

Padua     -      -      -    i 

Hiftorv    Portraits 

1 

Hiftory,  Portraits 

Venice       -          -    1588 

75 

Hiftory       - 

Sebenico,  Venice    1582 

60 

Hiftory 

Brefcia        -        -    15&4- 

50 

1  5  Hiftory 

Brefcia        -         -    1567 

63 

Landfcapes,  Por- 

Brefcia., Rome    -    1590 

62 

traits 

Antique     monu- 

Naples      -          -    1573 

-80 

ments  and  build- 

ings 
Miniature,     Hif- 

Sclavonia, Rome     1578 

80 

Rome,    Vatican   Library;   Florence, 

tory 

the  Palace  ;  Naples,  'King's  Col  - 

k'<5tion. 

Hiftory,  Portraits 

Florence       -       -    1580 

69 

10  Hiftory 

Florence       -       -    1607 

72 

Hiftory       - 

Florence       -        -    1625 

45 

Hiftory       - 

Mantua        -       -    J57^ 

61 

Hiftory       - 

Faenza        -        -   



Hiftory 

Sermonetta     -     -    1550 

46 

7.5  Hiftory 

Florence      -        -   

Hiftory       - 

Pomerancio     -    -    1626 

74 

Hiftory       - 

Soucy   proche    de 
Sens  •   Paris     -    1  580 

Vincennes,  the  Minims  j  Paris. 

Hiftory       -       '- 

Mechlin,  Antwerp  1592 

95 

Miniature,  Land- 

Mechlin, Bruflels    1593 

59 

fcapes 

t 

3° 

Bruges             -     -    1583 

73 

Portraits,  Hiftory 

Utrecht        -        -    1575 

56 

Views  of  Cities, 

Antwerp      -       -    1600 

Landfcapes 
Hiftory      - 

Bologna,  Milan      1626 

80 

Milan  ;  Genoa,   the  Annonciate  St. 
Maria  Carignano. 

C  c 


Giulio 


202 


APPENDIX 


Names. 

Studied  under 

Excelled  in 

Giulio  Cefare  Procaecini 

Ercole,  his  father,  Pro- 

a    dark,    ftrong,    ex- 

fpero  Fontana 

prcflive  manner 

Jude  Indocus  Van-Winghen 

ftudied  in  Italy     - 

John  Strada     — 

ftudied  in  Italy    - 

Bartholomew  Sprar.gher 

5    Michael  John  Miervelt 

Ant.  Blockland     -     - 

*  Paolo  Cagliari,   detto  Paul 

Antonio  Badiglio 

rich  and  noble  compo- 

Veronefe 

fition  ;  fine  warm  co-- 

Muring 

Carlo  Cagliari 

Paolo,  his  father 

imitated  his  manner 

Benedetto  Cagliari        -         - 

the  fame      - 

the  fame 

Gabrielle  Cagliari 

the  fame 

the  fame. 

10  Battifta  Zelotti 

Ant.  Badiglio  worked 

with  Paul  Veronefe 

Giacomo  da  Ponte,  detto  D 

Francefco,   his  father, 

much  Nature,  and  fine 

Bafiano 

Bonifacio  Venetiano, 

:     colouring 

imitated  Titian 

Francefco  BafTano    - 

Giacomo,  his  father 

imitated    his    manner. 

and  copied  his  pictures 

Leandro  Baflano      - 

the  fame 

the  fame 

Giambattifta  Baflano     - 

the  fame      - 

the  fame 

15  Girolamo  Baflano 

the  fame 

the  fame 

*  Giacomo  Robufti,  detto  IJL 

Titian,  in  his  drawing 

the  ftrepito  and  mofla 

Tintoretto 

imitated  Michael  An- 

of his  pencil;  variety 

gelo 

and  corre<Stnefs  of  de- 

fign  j  feldom  finiflied 

Marietta  Tintoretto 

Tintoret,  her  father  - 

. 

Paul  Francefchi      -.. 

Tintoret 

Martin  de  Vos- 

Tintoret      - 

20  John  Rothenamer 

Tintoret,    -               - 

defigned  after  his  man,-* 

ner 

Paolo  Farinato 

Antonio  Badiglio 

i 

Marco  Vecelli 

Titian,   his  uncle 

Livio  Agrefti 

Perin  del  Vago      -     - 

Marco  da  Sienna 

Dan.  Vol  terra     - 

25  Giacomo  Rocca       - 

Dan.  Volterra      -     - 

Frederico  Baroccio 

ftudied  Rafael     - 

fine  gentile  drawing  - 

11  Cavaliero  Francefco  Vanni 

Fred.  Baroccio    - 

corre£l  defign  and  a-. 

*  Michael    Angelo   Amarigi, 
detto,  11  Caravaggio 

Cav.  Arpino 

greeable  colouring 
a  ftrong  and  clofe  imi- 
tation of  Nature,  but: 

without  choice  ;  ex-: 

quifite  colouring 

P      E      N      D 


X. 


.20 


Painted 

Country,    Place,    and 
Year  of  his  Death. 

gcd 

Principal  Works  are  at 

Hiftory       -        - 

Bologna,  Milan  -  1626 

78 

Vlilan  ;  Genoa,    the  Annonciate  St. 

Maria  Carignano 

Hiftory      - 

Bruflels,  Germany  1603 

62 

Battles,   Hunting 
Hiftory       - 

Bruges,  Florence     1604 
Antwerp,  Vienna    1623 

68 

77 

5    Portraits     - 

Delft      -      -      -    1641 

73 

Hiftory,  Portraits 

Verona,  Venice       1588 

5* 

Venice,  and  almoft  every  where. 

the  fame 

Venice        -         -    1596 

26 

the  fame 

le  fame      -        -    1598 

60 

the  fame 

tie  fame       -        -    1631 

63 

10  Hiftory,  chiefly  in 

Venice       -          -    1592 

60 

Frefco 

Ruftic      Figures, 

Vicenza      -        -    1592 

82 

Venice,  &c. 

Animals,  Por- 

traits, Hiftory 

the  fame 

Venice      -         -   1594 

84 

the  fame 

Venice       -         -   1623 

65 

the  fame      »       «* 

Venice       -         -    161^ 

60 

15  the  fame 

Venice       -         -    1622 

62 

Hiftory,  Portraits 

Venice       -         -   1594 

82 

Venice,  and  every  where. 

Portraits     - 

Venice      -         -   159° 

30 

* 

Landfcapes   -     - 

-    1596 

56 

Landfcapes    -    - 

Germany     -       -    160^ 

84 

• 

20  Hiftory 

Munich      -        .1606 

42 

Hiftory 

Verona       -        -    1606 

84 

Verona. 

Venice       -        -    161 

66 

Hiftory 

Forli    -       -      -    1580 

Hiftory      - 

r  T    ,1 

Sienna        -         -    156 

D  _._.  „ 

57 

.25  Htftory        -     >- 
Hiftory,  Portrait 
Hiftory      - 

Urbino,  Rome    -    161 
Sienna,   Rome     -    161 

84 
51 

Sienna-;  Rome,  St.  Peter's  ;  Genoa, 
Santa  Maria  in  Carignano. 

•Hiftory,     humo 
rous  figures 

Caravaggio  i  n  Lom- 
bardy,  Rome       160 

40 

Rorm,  Pal.  Barberini;  feveral  Col- 
lections, 

*  Ludovica 


C  C  2 


204 


A      P       P      E       N       D      I      X. 


Names. 


*  Ludovico  Caracci 

*  Agoftino  Caracei      - 

*  Anntbale  Caracci 

Domenico  Zampieri,  dettp,  IJ 
Domenichino 

5    *  Guide  Reni 

*  Cav.  Giov.  Lanfranco 

*  Francefco  Albani 


Lucio  Maflari         - 

Sifto  Badalocchio 
10  Antonio  Caracci      - 

Giufeppe  Pini,  detto,  Cavalier' 
Arpino 

II  Paduano 

II  Cigoli       -       - 

Domenico  Feti         - 
15  Cherubino  Alberti 

Cavaliere  Paffignano 

Orazio  Gentilefchi 

Filippod'Angeli,  detto,  II  Na- 
politano 

Paul  Brill         - 

20  Matthew  Brill 

Pietro  Paolo  Gobbo      - 


Studied  under 


Profpero  Fontana 

Ludovico,  his  coufin 
Ludovico,  his  coufin 
the  Caracci 


Dionigi   Calvart,    the 
Caracci 


the  Caracci 


Dionigi   Calvart,    the 
.  Caracci 


the  Caracci 
Annibal  Caracci    - 
Annibal,  his  uncle    - 
Rafael  da  Rheggio 


Andrea  del  Sarto 
Cigoli        -        - "    -  - 

Frederic  Zucchero     - 
Aurelio  Lomi     - 


after  Titian  and  Anni- 
bale 


Excelled  in 


exquifite  defign ;  noble 
and  proper  compofi- 
tion  j  ftrong  and  har- 
monious colouring 

fimilarly  accomplifhed 

fimilarly  accomplifhed 

correct  defign,  ftrong 
and  moving  expreflion 


divine  and  graceful  airs 
arid  attitudes,  gay  and 
lightfome  colouring 


great  force, 

chiefly  in  frefco 

gentile  poetical  fancy, 
beautiful  airy  colour- 
ing, his  Nymphs  and 
Boys  are  moft  admired 


the  furia  and  force  of 
his  compolitions 


worked  with  Paul,  his 
brother 


Hiflory 


N      D 


IX.  205 


Painted 

Country,   Place,    and 
Year  of  their  Death. 

Aged 

Principal  Works  arc  at 

•  - 

Hiftory        -       - 

Bologna       -       -    i6'ig 

64 

Mbdena,  Pal".  Ducale  ;  Bologna,   S. 

Michel  in  Bofco,  S.  Giorgio,  La 

Certofa,.  &c. 

Hiftory,  Portraits, 

Bologna,  Parma      1602 

44 

Parma,  Villa  Ducale;  Bologna,  Pa!. 

Landfcapes 

Magnani,"  La  Certofa. 

Hiftory,  Portraits, 
Landfcapes 

Bologna,  Rome       1609 

49 

Rome,  Pal.  Farnefe,  &c.  Bologna,  S. 
Giorgio,  &c.   feveral  Collections. 

Hiftory,  Portraits 

Bologna,  Naples     1641 

60 

Rome,     S.    Girolamo   della   Carita, 
Santa  Maria  Traftavere,  S.  Andrea 

della  Valle,   S.  Andrea  in  Monte 

Celio,  Grotta  Ferrata,  Pal.  Ludo- 

vifio;   S".  Peter's,  S.  Carlo  a  Cati- 

nari, S.  Silveftro,  &c. 

5    Hiftory,  Portraits 

Bologna       -       -    1642 

68 

Rome,  Pal.  Rofpigliofi,  Pal.  Spada, 
Capucini,   S.  Andrea  della  Va|le, 

&c.   Bologna,  Mendicant!,  S.  Do- 

menico,  S.  'Michel  in  Bofco;  and 

in  many  Collections. 

Hiftory        -      - 

Parma,  Naples    -   1647 

66 

Rome,  S.  Andrea  della  Valle;  Naples, 
S.  Carlo  de  Catinari;  La  Capella 

del  Teforo. 

Hiftory 

Bologna     -'-_        -   1660 

82 

The  Duke  of  Modena's,  and  many 
other  Cabinets. 

Hiftory       - 
Hiftory     » 
JO  Hiftory      - 
Hiftory 

Bologna      -       -   J^33 
Parma       -           -    • 
Bologna,  Rome       1618 
Arpino,  Rome    -    1640 

64 

Bologna,  S.  Michel  in  Bofco. 
Rome,  Pal.  Verofpi. 
Rome,  S.  Bartolomeo  nell'  Ifola. 
Rome,  the  Capitol,  &c. 

35 
80 

Past  |f  • 

f  ortraits      -        - 
Hiftory 

Florence     -        -    1613 

54 

Hiftory       -        -IRome          -        -    1624 

35 

15  Hiftory       -        - 
Hiftory 
Hiftory       - 

Rome          -         -    1615!   63 
Florence      -        -    1638!   80 
Pifa        -      -       -    1647!   8-4 

Florence,  the  Dome. 

Landfcapes 

Rome,  Naples     —  1640 

40 

Landfcapes 

Antwerp,  Rome  -  1626 

72 

Rome,  Vatican,  Pal.  Borghefe}  many 
Collections* 

20  Landfcapes 

Antwerp^  Rome  -  1584 

34 

Fruit,  Landfcapes 

Cortona       -       -  1640 

60 

II  Viola 


APPENDIX. 


Names. 


II  Viola  -       -       - 

Roland  Saveri  _-       ~ 

Bartolomeo  Manfredt  - 

Carlo  Saracino 
II  Valentino 

Giufeppe  Ribera,  detto,   Lo 
Spagnuoletto 

John  Mompre 

Henry  Cornelius  Wroon,   or 

Vroom 
Agoftino  Tafli 


10  Fra.  Matteo  Zaccolino 
Antonio  Tempefta 

O&avius  Van  Veen,    called 

Otho  Vaenius 
Jean  Le  Clerc 
Simon  Vouet  - 

15  Peter  Noefs 

Henry  Steinwick        -         *- 


Theodere  Rombouts      <- 
Gerard  Segres 

Sir  Peter  Paul  Rubens 


20  Sir  Anthony  Vandyke 


Rembrandt 


Studied  under 


Annibal  Caracci        - 

imitated  Paul  Brill  - 
M.  Ang.  Caravaggio 
imitated  Caravaggio  - 
M.  Ang.  Caravaggio 
M.  Ang.  Caravaggio 


ftudied  Nature    - 
Corn.  Henrickfon 

Paul  Brill        - 


John  Strada 


Carlo  Saracino  - 
Laurent,  his  father 
Henry  Steinwick 
John  De  Vries  - 


Abraham  Jan  fens 
Abraham  Janfens 

Otho  Vaenius    .-     «- 


Rubens       *-      - 


Excelled  in 


muchfinHhing,  but  dry 


a  dark  ftrong  manner ; 
d  ifmal  and  cruel  fub- 
jefts 


imitated  M.  A.  Cara- 
vaggio 

admirable  colouring; 
great  magnificence 
and  harmony  of 
compofition ;  a  gay 
and  lightfome  man- 
ner 

his  matter's  excellen- 
cies with  more  grace 
and  corre&nefs 

great  knowledge  and 
execution  of  the 
Clair-obfcure;  high 
finifliing;  fometimes 
a  very  bold  pencil 
and  diftin&  colour- 
ing j  vaft  Nature 

Landfcapes 


PEN 


I      X.  207 


Painted 

Country,   Place,    and 
Year  of  their  Death. 

Aged 

Principal  Works  are  at 

Landfcapes 

Rome 

1622 

50 

Rome,  Vigna  Montalta,  Vigna  Al~ 

dobrandina,  Vigna  pia. 

Landfcapes 

1639 

63 

Hiftory 

IVTsntui       •* 

Hiftory         -      - 

Venice 

1625 

40 

5    Hiftory          

France 

1632 

Hiftory         -     - 

Valencia       - 

1656 

67 

Naples,  &c.  many  Collection?, 

Landfca  es 

Antwcro  '      ••      *»- 

3 

Sea-  ports,  Ships 

Haerlem,  Rome  - 



. 

Ships    Tempefts 

Bologna       •-      •»- 

CJenoa  ;  Leghorn  «  on'  the  outfides  G£  ' 

Landfcapes, 

houfes. 

Fruit,  Perfpec- 

tives 

10  Perfpeftives 

Rome     -  -     — 

1630 

40 

Rome,  St.  Silveftrcv 

Animals,  Battles, 

Florence 

1630 

75 

Florence,  6cc. 

Huntings 

Hiftory       - 

Leyden     -     -    - 

l634 

78 

Hiftory      - 
Hiftory,  Portraits 

Nancy 
Paris  j  Paris    -    - 

l633 
1641 

^ancy,  Les  Jefuits. 
?aris,  in  many  Churches*                *i 

59 

15  Perfpeftives    -    - 

Antwerp        - 

1651'   85 

Buildings,   places 

Steinwick.     - 

1603 

53 

illuminated  by- 

fire  and  candles 

Low  Life      -     - 

Antwerp        -      - 

1640 

43 

Antwerp 

1651 

62 

•' 

Hiftory,  Portraits, 
Landfcapes 

Antwerp       -       -- 

1640 

63 

landers,  Holland,  &c.  Dufleldorp; 
the  Elector  Palatine's  Collection  ; 

France,  Palais  Luxemburgh,  &c. 

England,  Whitehall,  &c.  Genoa, 

St.  Ambroflo,  &c. 

20  Portraits,.  Hiftory 

Antwerp,;  London- 

1641 

42 

Genoa,  Pal.  Durazzo,  &c.  Flanders, 
Holland,  &c     France,  Verfailles, 

&c.  England,  the  Pembroke  and 

Walpole  Collections,  &c. 

Hiftory,  Portraits, 
Low  Life 

— 

1674 

68 

rrance,  King's  and  Moniieur's  Col- 
lections, &c.   &c.    Florence,    tha 

Palace,  Amfterdam,  &c. 

Cornelius 


208 


APPEND      I      X. 


Names. 


Cornelius  Polembau'rg     - 


John   Brugle,    called   Velvet 
Brugle 


Mofes,  called  the  Little- 

F.  Dan.  Legres 
5    Gafpar  Craes 

Bartholomew  Briemberg  -  - 
John  Affelyn,called  Littlejohn 
Francis  Snyders 

ErtVeeft      - 

10  Lewis  Coufin 
Philip  Vauvremans 
Gerard  Daw 
Pietro  Francefco  Mola 

Giov.  Battifta  Mola      - 

15  Giacomo  Cavedone 
Agoftino  Metelli 

Angelo  Michale  Colonna 
Giov.  Benedetto  Caftiglione, 

detto,  II  Genoefe 
Pietro  Tefta 

20  Matthew  Flatten,    called    II 

Montagna 

Francefco  Barbieri,  detto,  II 
Guercino  da  Cento 


Pietro  Berrettinij  detto,  Pietro 
da  Cortona 


Studied  under 


Abraham  Bloemart    - 


Old  Brugle,  his  father 


Corn.  Polembourg     - 

Young  Brugle     - 
Coxis       - 
ftudied  at  Rome 
Efaias  Vander  Velde. 
painted  with  Rubens 


John  Wynants     - 

Rembrandt 

Albani,  Cav.  Arpino 

Albani       - 
Lud.  Caracci 


Ferrantino 
Paggi,  'Vandyke 

Domenichino     - 
Aflelyn      - 
the>Carracci 


Excelled  in 


Baccio  Ciarpi     '- 


extreme  neatnefs  .and 
finiftiing 


ftrong  paintim 
the  fame 


capricious  and  ftrange 
defigns 


a  medium  between  the 
Caracci  and  Cara- 
vaggio ;  he  has  two 
manners,  one  a  dark 
and  ftrong  one;  the 
other  more  gay  and 
gracious 

noble  compofitions ; 
bright  and  beautiful 
colouring 

Minature 


N      D    'I      X. 


209 


Painted 

Country,    Place,    and 
Year  of  their  Death. 

Aged 

Principal  Works  are  at 

Miniature,  Land- 
fcapes  with  fi- 

Utrecht   -     -     -  j66o 

74 

Many  Cabinets, 

gures 

Little  Landscapes 

Bruflels       -        -  1625 

65 

with       figures, 

J 

animals,      and 

flowers 

Small  Landscapes 

-                            -  1-650 



with  figures 

Flowers 

Antwerp       -       -  1666 

7° 

5 

Bruflels        -        -  1669 

84 

Land  [capes    -     - 

-  1660 

40 

Landfcapes    -     - 

-  1660 

50 

Animals  dead  and 

Antwerp       -       -  1657 

-/s 

alive 

Sea-fights,  Tem- 

Bruflels     -     -         1670 



pefts 

10 

-         -         -        -  1670 

Haerlem       -        -  1668 

48 

Little  figures 

Leyden     -     -          1674 

61 

Hiftory 

Comoj  Rome      -  i6b6 

S^ 

Rome,    Monte   Cavalloj  Pal. 

Cof- 

taguti,  &c. 

Hiftory        Land- 

fcapes 

*5  Hiftory       - 
Buildings,      Per- 

Bologna       -         -  1660 
Bologna  >.  Spain  -   1660 

80 
5i 

3oJogna,  St  Michaeli  in  Bofco, 
Bologna,  &c. 

&c. 

fpective 

BuildingSjHiftory 

Bologna       -         -  1687 

87 

Bologna,  &c. 

Genoa     -                  

••"  • 

Hiftory,  Whims 

Lucca-    I  ->        -  1650 

39 

20  Sea-  pieces:'^,   ki 

AnMnrirn  -      \7f*r\tCF*    _ 

Hiftory 

Gento  nel  Bolognefe; 
Bologna     -      -  1667 

76 

Rome,  Vigna,  Ludovifia,  St.  Peter's  j 
Grotto  Ferrata. 

Hiftory      - 

Cortona;  Rome  -  1669 

73 

lome,  Pal.  Barberini,  Pal.  Pamfili, 
Chiefa  nuova,  St.  Peter's,  St.  Ag- 

nes ;  Florence,  Pal.  Pitti,  &c 

D  d 


Antonio 


210 


APPENDIX. 


Names. 


Antonino  Barbalonga 
Andrea  Camaceo 
Andrea  Saccht 


Simone  Cantarini 
5    Cav.  Carlo  Cignani 

Pietro  Facini 

Giov.  Andrea  Donducci,detto, 

II  Mafteletta 
Aleffandro  Tiarini 
Leonello  Spada       - 
10  Giov.  Andrea  Sirani 
Elifabetta  Sirani  • 

Giacomo  Sementi 
Francefco  Geffi 

Lorenzo  Garbieri 
l$  G.  Francefco  Romanelli 
Diego  Velafquez 
Aleffandro  Veronefe 

Mario  de  Fieri 

Michelangelo  del  Campidoglio 
20  Salvator  Rofa 


II  Cav.  Calabrefe      .-      - 
Ferramola  Fioraventi 


II  Maltefe 

Claude  Gelee,  called  Claude 
Lorraine 


Studied  under 


Domenichino 
Domenichino 
Albani 


Guido  - 

Albani 

Annibal  Caracci   - 
the  Caracci 

Profpero  Fontana 

the  Caracci 

Guido 

Andrea,  her  father 

Guido 

Guido  - 

Lud.  Caracci 
Pietro  Cortona     - 
Francefco  Pacheco 
Felice  Riccio 


Fioravante     - 
Spagnuoletto  and  Da- 
niel Falcone 


Guercino 


Godfrey  Wals  j  Ago- 
ftino  Taffi 


Excelled  in 


a  colouring  more  lan- 
guid than  Pietro  Cor- 
tona, but  extreme  de- 
'hcate  and  pleafing 

noble,  bold  manner  j 
and  bright  colouring 


good  imitation  of  his 
m  after 


great  fire  and  force 
a  weak  but  agreeable 
manner 


favage  &  uncouth 
places ;  very  great 
and  noble  ftyle ;  fto- 
ries  that  have  fome- 
thing  of  horror  or 
cruelty 


rural  and  pleafing 
fcenes,  with  various 
accidents  of  Nature, 
as  gleams  of  fun- 
fhine,  the  rifing 
moon,  &c. 

Hiftory 


N      D 


IX.  2i* 


Painted 

Country,    Place,    and 
Year  of  their  Death. 

Aged 

Principal  Works  are  at 

Hiftory 

JVIcflina  " 

Rome   St  Andrea'della  Valle   Chiefa 

Hiflory      - 
Hiflory      - 

Hiflory 
5    Hiftory 

Hiftory      - 
Hiflory 

Hiflory 
Hiftory       <• 
JO  Hiflory 
Hiflory,  Portraits 
Hiftory 

Hiftnrv 

Bevagna  j  Rome  -  1-657 
Romej  Rome  -  1661 

Pefaro;  Bologna  1648 
Bologna;  Bologna  1719 

Bologna  -  -  1602 
Bologna  -  *  1655 

Bologna  -  -  1668 
Bologna  -  -  1622 
Bologna  -  -  1670 
Bologna  -  --  1664 
Bologna  -  '  -  1625 

55 

72 

36 
9i 

42 
80 

91 

46 
60 
26 
45 

dei  Theatini,  &c. 
Rome,  St.  Peter's,  St.  Giov.  in  La- 
terano,  Pal.  Paleftrina,  &c. 
Rome,  Pal.  Berberini,  &c.  Chiefa  di 
St.  Romualdo,  St.  Carlo  di  Cati- 
nari,  &c. 

Bologna,  Pal.  Davia,  Certofa,  &c. 

Bologna,  &c. 
Bologna,  &c. 

Bologna,  &c. 
Bologna,  &c. 
Bologna,  &c. 
Bologna*,  &c. 
Bologna,  &c. 

Hiftory        .-i'_  ... 
15  Hiftory      ».*     :•- 
Portraits      - 
Hiftory 

Bologna  -  -  1654 
Viterbo;  Rome  -  1662 
Spain  -  -  -  1660 
Verona  -  -  1670 

64 
45 
66 

7° 

Bologna,  &c. 
France,  &c.  Rome,  &c. 
Rome,  Pal.  Pamfili  ;  France,  Louvre. 
France,  Verfailles»  &c. 

Flowers  &  Fruits 
2C  Landfcapes,    Hi- 
flory 

Hiftory 
Vafes,        Inftru- 
ments,  Carpets, 
and  Still-life 

Rome  -  -  -  1670 
Naples  ;  Rome  -  1673 

Calabria  -  -  1688 
Brefcia  -  -  1512 

60 
59 

86 

Rome,   Pal.  Palavicirri  ;    Paris,    the 
King's  Colleaion,  &c. 

Rom?,  St.  Andrea  della  Valle,  &c. 

Landfcapes 

Toulj  Rome  -  1682 

82 

Rome,  Pal.  Chigi,  Altieri,  Colonna  ] 
many  Collections, 

D  d  * 


Nicola? 


Z12 


APPENDIX. 


Names. 


Nicolas  Pouffin 


Gafpar  Du  Ghet,  called  Gaf- 
per  Pouffin 

Euftache  Le  Sueur       -        * 


Michelangelo  delle  Battaglie 
5    Jaques  Stella 

Carlo  Maratti          ,- 

Luca  Giordano       -       r* 
Charles  Le  Brun 

Cav.  Giacinto  Brand! 
ro  Giro  Ferri  - 


Studied  under 


^uintin  Varin     *• 


Nicolas,  his  brother- 
in-law 

Simon  Vouet 


VTozzo  of  Antwerp    - 

his  father 

Andrea  Sacchi     - 

Lo  Spagnuoletto 
Simon  Vouet;  Nicolas 

Pouffin 
Lanfranco 
Pietro  Cortona  -  - 


Excelled  in 


rxquifite  knowledge  of 
the  antique  ;  fine  ex- 
preffion  j  fkilful  and 
well-chofen  compo- 
fition  and  defign. 
Scenes  of  the  country 
with  antient  buildings 
and  hiftorical  figures 
intermixed 

a  mixture  of  Nicolas 
and  Claude  Lorraine's 
ftyle 

fimplicity,  dignity,  and 
corre<Snefs  of  ftyle,  he 
is  called  the  French 
Rafael 

painted    upon    majblc 
frequently 


The    E  N  D    of    the 


N      D 


X. 


21.3 


Painted 

Country,  Place,  and 
Year  of  their  Death, 

Aged 

Principal  Works  are  at 

Hiftory,      Land- 
fcapes 

Andilly;   Rome  - 

1665 

7i 

France,  Verfailles,  Palais  Royal,  &c» 
Rome,    Cav.    Pozzo's  Collection, 
and  in  many  more  elfewhere. 

Landfcapes 

Rome     - 

1675 

— 

Rome;  Paris,  &c. 

Hiftory      -  !    "  *- 

Paris 

1655 

38 

Paris,  the  Chartreufe  and  Hotel  in  the 
Ifle  Notre  Dame,  &c. 

Battles 
5    Hiftory,     Minia- 
tures 
Hiftory      - 

Hiftory      - 
Hiftory      -  .      - 

Lyons;  Paris 
Ancona;  Rome  - 

Naples     -      -      - 
Paris          ••        - 

1647 

1713 

1705 
1690 

88 

76 
71 

Lyons;  Paris,  &c. 

Rome  ;  many  Churches  and  Palaces, 
&c. 

Verfailles. 

Hiftory      - 
10  Hiftory 

Poll;  Rome 
Rome     - 

^689 

90 
55 

Rome,  &c. 
Rome,  St.  Agnes,  Pal.  Monte  Ca- 
vallo,  St.  Ambrogio,  &c.  Florence, 
Pal.  Pitti. 

APPENDIX. 


ERRATA. 

Page  ijy  line  193,  for  figured,  read  figured* 

P.  6 1,  1.  755,  for  He  knew,  r.  His  were. 

P.  70.,  1.  14,  for  Paraphafe^  r.  Parapbrafe. 

P.  94,  1.  6,  fot  opera  a  tfamsmto,.  r.  ^r^  atrament** 


/;/  the  Prefs,  and  fpeedily  will  be  publijhed^ 

A  new  and  corrected  Edition,  in  fmall  Octavo,  of  the  ENGLISH 
GARDEN,  in  four  Books,  by  W.  MASON,  M.  A.  with  a  Commentary 
and  Notes,  by  \V.  BURGH,  Efq;  LL.  P 

York  printed  for  J.  DODSLEY,  Pall-Mall  •,  T.  CADELL,  in  the  Strand  j 
R.  FAULDER,  New  Bond-ftreet.,  London  ;  and  J.  TODD,  York. 

Of  whom  may  be  had^ 
POEMS,  by  W.  MASON,  fmaU  Odavo,  5th  Edition,  Price  bound  5  s. 

CARACTACUS,  altered  for  the  Stage,  as  performed  at  Covent- 
Garden  Theatre,  Price  is.  6d.— The  Lyrical  Part  of  Caractacus,  as 
fet  to  Mufic  by  D.  ARNE. 

ELFRIDA,  altered  for  the  Stage,  as  performed  at  Covent-Garden 
Theatre,  Price  is.  6d. — The  Lyrical  Part  of  Eifrida  as  fet  toMufic 
by  Mr.  GIARDINJU 

ODE  to  the  Naval  Officers  of  Great  Britain,  Price  6d. 
ODE  to  the  Honourable  W.  PITT,  Price  j  s. 

MEMOIRS  of  Mr.  GRAY,  prefixed  to  his  Poems,  4  Vols.  fmaU 
O&avo,  gd  Edition,  Price  bound  125. 

An  Hiftorical  and  Critical  ESSAY  on  CATHEDRAL  MUSIC, 
prefixed  to  an  Anthem  Book  for  the  Ufe  of  the  Church  of  York  •,  in 
which  the  Anthems  are  arranged  in  chronological  Order  according 
to  the  Dates  of  the  feveral  Compofers,  Price  bound  33.  6d.  large 
Paper,  2S.  6d.  fmall  Paper. 


2  X 


0)  —      < 
I   -n          I—I 


,^.OF-CAl!FO%        ,^.OF 
^        —     s      ^ 


c          : 

>  -^     -— '  r      *     c^' 

^Aavaan-^ 


.•\MEUNIVER5y 


University  of  California 
SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 
Return  this  material  to  the  library 
from  which  it  was  borrowed. 

RARY^ 
f  £ 

o  i 

*\t 

VD-JO^ 

flfrOUMJfl 

liFO/?^ 

APR  2  6  198 

3 

El 

<r% 

^ 
J/J 

CJ*    ^ 

/—  '  ^ 

ii 

glo^-^   I/Or- 
i^l  SCfel     i 


^    o 


'flHawsw**      V/JSMNII  j\\v         -•©AHvaaiH'S4'      'oa~~  ~~Siw«mjg»i^fflfc 

II II 1 11  Will 

|.«if^     /«%   £*"%      ^wivre%    ^iosi      l»»™0»l™1 4"2"0   9 

i(4iii  |(g\j  j^i  |:  ||||||||||||||ii 

%WnV3JO^  <QiJONV-SO^       ^5S|    UV||rJI!fi;o  RQ!I 

O        I     I  OO     \J    I  £-<^jL.      Ov?O    I 


i  § 


S     ( 

S  ! 


.       ^l-LIBRARY^         jAMEUNIVp% 

w   3  1  ir"^     ^^  r^f^^   ; 


S  I  J  PfS    i^)g  i 
^^rii.$  ^ZIIl^     i'-1^!   < 

y<?Aavij8iH^      y<?Aavaan-A^       ^Dwsm5^ 


^lOS-ANCEtfj.,  ^ 

i£j      •!  .          ^.          iVi 


i   3 


i  i 


i  ^ 


i   £ 


\\E-UNIVER%.         v 


^-UBRARY^ 

^ 


.OF  CAIIFO/?^          ^\\EUN'IVER%        v^lOS-ANCElfj> 


I  UNiV? 
I  REGiO