f^om the Library of 
 Frank Simpson 
 
1HYMES ON AIRT 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE REMONSTRANCE 
 
 OF 
 
 A PAINTER: 
 
 IN TWO PARTS. 
 
 WITH 
 
 NOTES, AND A PREFACE, 
 
 INCLUDING 
 
 STRICTURES ON THE STATE OF THE ARTS, CRITICISM, 
 PATRONAGE, AND PUBLIC TASTE. 
 
 ^ MARTIN ARCHER SHEE, R. A. 
 
 Q.uis leget haec? Nemo hercule, nemo. Persius, Sat. I. 
 
 The Muse desponding, strikes her lyre in vain, 
 
 She finds no ear at leisure for the strain ; 
 
 Art's toiling sons their slighted stores unfold, 
 
 Each eye is vacant, and each heart is cold. Part II. 
 
 THIRD EDITION. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 printed for john murray, fleet street; j. harding, 
 st. James's street; a. constable and co. Edin- 
 burgh; AND J. ARCHER, DUBLIN. 
 
 1806. 
 
 $0 fytAot&v frr&£t<i ifAj^ 
 
C. Whittingham, Printer, Dean^treet. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Preface iii 
 
 Preface to the Second Edition xli 
 
 Rhymes on Art, Part I 3 
 
 U , 49 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 *Few writers have the confidence to appear 
 before the public for the first time, without at- 
 tempting: in some decree, to excuse or account 
 for their intrusion. 
 
 Why do you publish? is a question always 
 anticipated from the reader ; and to answer or 
 evade it is most commonly the business of the 
 preface. 
 
 To speak, indeed, with propriety, either from 
 the press or the rostrum, requires qualifications 
 from nature and education, which, perhaps, it 
 is some degree of arrogance to suppose we pos- 
 sess. He, therefore, who voluntarily presents 
 himself in the character of an author, 
 
 " Who dares ask public audience of mankind 
 
 should be sensible, that he gives a proof of confi- 
 dence in his own powers, which both occasions, 
 
 * Young. 
 
 a 
 
iv 
 
 and authorizes an investigation of them, that no 
 deprecating introduction can, or ought to pre- 
 vent. If he will start from the crowd, jump on 
 the literary pedestal, and put himself in the at- 
 titude of Apollo, he has no right to complain if 
 his proportions are examined with rigour ; if 
 comparisons are drawn to his disadvantage : or 
 if, on being found glaringly defective, he is 
 hooted down from a station which he has so un- 
 necessarily and injudiciously assumed, 
 
 A conviction of this perhaps, it is, which has 
 so often occasioned young writers eagerly to 
 assure the public, that they have come for- 
 ward with reluctance; that they have been, 
 as it were, thrust upon the stage, under all 
 the embarrassment of conscious incapacity 
 and anxious trepidation. In the hope of disarm- 
 ing censure by diffidence, and obviating the 
 imputation of presumption, it became a kind 
 of established etiquette for a virgin muse to 
 bind up her blushes in an introductory bouquet, 
 r*nd present them to the reader as an offering 
 of humility and conciliation. 
 
V 
 
 But the good sense of the present day has in 
 a great measure, exploded as idle and imperti- 
 nent, this species of literary affectation. What- 
 ever a writer may profess, praise or profit will 
 always be considered his real motive ; and when 
 he has once overcome his feelings so far as to 
 venture upon the public stage, if his other me- 
 rits are only in proportion to his modesty, he 
 will find that he has overrated his pretensions. 
 
 An author should disdain to fight under false 
 colours, or owe his security to any thing but his 
 strength ; his object is not to escape with impu- 
 nity, but to acquit himself with credit; and it 
 can neither provoke his fate, nor prejudice his 
 reception, to avow honestly, that he has more 
 ambition than prudence ; that he pants for dis- 
 tinction, and pursues it at the hazard of dis- 
 grace. 
 
 His valour, surely, is not much to be respect- 
 ed who cries out " Quarter!" on coming into 
 the field. 
 
 Under the impression of these sentiments, the 
 a 2 
 
vi 
 
 author of the following: little work would have 
 sent it in silence to its fate, if the evident incom- 
 pletion of the design proposed in the first page 
 of it did not require some explanation ; he 
 would have dropped his bantling at the public 
 door without a word, but for some strong marks 
 of mutilation, for which, that his offences may 
 not experience unnecessary aggravation, he 
 thinks it prudent to account. 
 
 It is proper, therefore, to state to the reader, 
 that the following pages include the first book 
 of a poem in four books, written on the subject 
 of painting, in which, more particularly, the 
 early progress of the student is attempted to be 
 illustrated and encouraged. 
 
 But though the author has found some plea- 
 sure in the composition of his work, he is not 
 quite convinced that the public would partici- 
 pate in that sensation if he submitted it to their 
 perusal. How far such an article of his manu- 
 facture may be acceptable in the market, he 
 confesses he is unable to determine ; and al- 
 though he has received some favourable intima- 
 
vii 
 
 tions from his friends on that head, yet he lays 
 but little stress oti assurances so often found to 
 be fallacious. 
 
 Before he obtrudes upon the public, there- 
 fore, a more extensive publication, he wishes 
 to ascertain, in some degree, how far he may 
 be qualified for his subject, and how far his 
 subject may be suited to the taste of the time. 
 As an experiment to these ends, and as afford- 
 ing an opportunity of touching on some points 
 connected with the present state of the arts, he 
 has been induced to publish the first book of 
 his intended work, with some additions neces- 
 sary to its independent appearance. 
 
 Though, with respect to his general plan, it 
 may be acting somewhat like the man who put 
 a brick in his pocket, in order to enable a pur- 
 chaser to form a judgment of his house, yet he 
 offers the present production as a fair sample of 
 the commodity he deals in ; he sends it up as 
 a small balloon, to ascertain the current of air 
 before he com mits himself to the mercy of the ele- 
 mentsin his larger and morehazardous machine, 
 
viii 
 
 It happens conveniently enough for this pur- 
 pose, that the portion of his work now published 
 admits of being detached from the remainder 
 without any great violence, as it is not so much 
 a part of his plan, as an introduction to it; and 
 contains also, a remonstrance in favour of pur- 
 suits which, unfortunately, have been of late but 
 little distinguished by public notice or protec- 
 tion. It is here, indeed, that the author feels 
 more particularly interested ; — that the colla- 
 teral subject has gained upon the principal ; — 
 that the incidental has superseded the direct. 
 It is here, that he could wish himself possessed 
 of powers adequate to w r hat he conceives the 
 importance of his theme. 
 
 Every person interested for the fine arts, or 
 concerned for the reputation of his country, 
 must perceive w r ith more than regret, at the 
 present moment, a growing disregard to the 
 fate of the one, which cannot fail materially to 
 affect the splendour of the other. All patriotic 
 interest in the cultivation of British genuis ap- 
 pears to be at an end ; those who should be the 
 patrons of artists have ceased to be even their 
 
IX 
 
 employers ; " cedant arma togse" — the painter 
 gives way to the picture-dealer: they who 
 possess taste are indifferent, and they who pre- 
 tend to it are hostile. 
 
 This general blight of the field is the more to 
 be lamented, as, though the season has been 
 cold, and the crop unsheltered, yet the harvest 
 promised to be abundant. 
 
 In sanctioning the establishment of the Royal 
 Academy, and graciously condescending to 
 place himself at its head, his Majesty has done 
 much to promote the interests of the arts in his 
 dominions, and has displayed a beneficent de- 
 sire to recommend them to attention and respect. 
 Although the contracted scale of that institution, 
 and its dependance for support on the exertions 
 of its members, necessarily exclude many of 
 the advantages which otherwise might be ex- 
 pected to result from it, yet, had the distin- 
 guished honour conferred upon it in this 
 instance, been seconded by the sensibility of 
 the public, and the generous patronage of our 
 nobility and men of fortune, enough might have 
 
X 
 
 been done to reflect credit on the generosity, 
 as well as the genius of the nation. 
 
 But, unfortunately, the august example set 
 by the Throne has not had the influence which 
 might have been expected ; and while the 
 artists of Great Britain maintain by the profits 
 of their united labours, an institution, from 
 which their country derives both credit and ad- 
 vantage, they are themselves neglected, un- 
 supported, and unemployed. 
 
 In the general apathy which prevails upon 
 this subject, and the consequences which must 
 unavoidably ensue, there is more to be regret- 
 ted than is included in the mere fate of the 
 artist or the art: there is something to affect 
 more general interests — to excite the reflections 
 of the politician, as well as the feelings of the 
 man of taste, and to implicate seriously the re- 
 putation of the country. 
 
 Whatever may be the power or prosperity of 
 a state, whatever the accumulations of her 
 wealth, or the splendour of her triumphs, to 
 
xi 
 
 her intellectual attainments must she look for 
 rational estimation ; on her arts must she depend 
 
 " For living dignity and deathless fame." 
 
 They are the vital principle — the breathing 
 soul of empire, which, after its cumbrous body 
 has decayed, — after it has " shaken off the mor- 
 tal coil" of greatness, survives in spiritual 
 vigour throughout the long futurity of time. 
 
 " What now of all that Rome or Athens grac'd ? 
 
 " In war or conquest — wealth or splendour plac'd j 
 
 " Their gods, — their godlike heroes — princes, powers, 
 
 " Imperial triumphs, and time-braving towers ? 
 
 " What now of all that social life refin'd, 
 
 " Subdu'd, — enslav'd — or civiliz'd mankind ? 
 
 " What now remains ? — save what the Muse imparts, 
 
 " Relate their ruins, or unfold their arts." 
 
 Their influence has been acknowledged in 
 all ages ; and their interests have been pro- 
 tected in all countries, in proportion as man 
 became more enlightened, and the principles of 
 society have been better understood. 
 
 " Sunt lacrymae rerum, et mentem mortalia tangunt." 
 
 The present, and the future, are alike within 
 the grasp of their power; they humanize the 
 
xii 
 
 tempers of the living, and they perpetuate the 
 memory of the dead. They are the crystals of 
 immortality, in which all the forms of greatness 
 are imperishably fixed to gratify the wondering 
 eye of time. 
 
 If there be a nation in which we might ex- 
 pect more particularly to behold their powers 
 protected with public solicitude, and their ad- 
 vancement a general concern, —it is Great 
 Britain ; for what other state has such a trea- 
 sure of reputation to confide to their charge? — 
 such triumphs to transmit— - such heroes to 
 commemorate ? Where shall we find in such 
 glittering abundance the materials of renown ? 
 Had the ancients possessed them ? had Greece 
 or Rome, in the zenith of their glory, been 
 able 
 
 " To boast the heroes, statesmen, bards divine, 
 
 " That bright in Albion's happier annals shine ! 
 
 " What wondrous works had grateful taste essay >d ! 
 
 " What monumental miracles displayed ! 
 
 " What trophied arches — temples taught to rise ! 
 
 " What sculptur'd columns proudly pierc'd the skies ! 
 
 " What art achiev'd ! — what rocks to statues sprung I 
 
 " What climes had echo'd, and what paeans rung ! " 
 
xiii 
 
 In Great Britain, however, the fine arts seem 
 never to have been viewed by the public as a 
 national object, nor to have experienced from 
 the state that paternal protection, which less 
 prosperous countries have been forward to be- 
 stow*. We have been always cold, and at the 
 
 * In the Academic Correspondence, for 1803, (a work for 
 which the Members of the Royal Academy are highly indebted 
 to the liberal zeal and ability of Mr. Hoare, the Professor of 
 Foreign Correspondence, and the regular continuation of which, 
 it is to be hoped, will be encouraged and assisted by every 
 means within the reach of that establishment,) we find the 
 following communication from the Secretary of the Imperial 
 Academy of Petersburgh : " The munificence of our sovereigns 
 is unquestionably the most solid and infallible support that can 
 be found for the advancement of our artists. Influenced by 
 this principle, his Majesty the reigning Emperor has deigned 
 not only to increase the salaries of the professors and other 
 persons employed in the Academy, but still further to extend 
 his bounty, by lately appropriating, for the maintenance of 
 this institution, the annual sum of 146,000 rubles, instead of 
 sixty thousand, formerly assigned for that purpose, and by 
 moreover adding the yearly sum of 10,000 roubles, for the pay- 
 ment of those artists whose works shall be judged worthy of 
 adorning the public institutions." And in another part of the 
 same communication we find the following passage: " The 
 Academy has had the advantage of experiencing a fresh proof 
 of his Majesty the Emperor's favour, by seeing several of its 
 members recently decorated with various orders of the empire." 
 
xiv 
 
 present moment we are unkind to their in- 
 terests. 
 
 Whether we shall be characterized hereafter, 
 as a people no less polished in peace, than 
 powerful in war ; no less distinguished for our 
 pre-eminence in taste, than our superiority in 
 trade ; or whether we shall relapse into rude- 
 ness, and revive by our insensibility the sar- 
 casms of our enemies ; are considerations which 
 seem to be of no importance at present with 
 any class of society : and there is much reason 
 to fear, that, after having by extraordinary 
 efforts wrested the palms from the hands of 
 our competitors, they will be suffered, for 
 want of common care and shelter, to wither in 
 our grasp. 
 
 Many circumstances have co-operated to de- 
 prive the artist even of those inadequate re- 
 sources which the active spirit of trade, and 
 the scanty remains of patronage, had lately 
 afforded to him. The disorders of the conti- 
 nent in particular, have cut up his interests 
 with a double edge of operation ; for while they 
 
XV 
 
 disconcerted all those commercial speculations, 
 through which he might have expected employ- 
 ment from the printseller, they also occasioned 
 such an inundation of foreign art to be poured 
 upon us, as at once swept away all his hopes of 
 encouragement from the patron. 
 
 Our arts, indeed, have experienced the fate 
 which was denounced against our liberties — 
 they have been invaded from every port upon 
 the continent, — overrun by a posse of picture- 
 dealers ; and yet we have seen no defence bills 
 passed for their protection — wo patriotic funds 
 appropriated to their use — no voluntary offers 
 of service tendered throughout the districts of 
 Taste : dangerous principles have spread in 
 their very camp of defence, and all the corps 
 of criticism are disaffected: our connoisseurs 
 are become catamarans to blow up our own 
 pretensions; and even the small craft of critics 
 are proud to shew the colours of the enemy, and 
 cruise against us on our own coasts. 
 
 The superior wealth of this country, and the 
 almost incredible prices paid here for some 
 
xvi 
 
 celebrated collections, set in motion the trading 
 tribes of Taste in every corner of Europe; a 
 general rummage took place for our gratifica- 
 tion: all the manufacturers of originals — the 
 coiners of antiques — the dryers, smokers, and 
 stainers, of the worshipful company of Ciceroni, 
 were put in requisition to supply the voracity 
 of our appetite : all rushed eagerly with their 
 commodities to so profitable a market ; and he 
 was more than an unlucky traveller who could 
 not turn his tour to account, and pick up a 
 Titian, or a Corregio on his road. 
 
 Thus, has the nation been glutted with pic- 
 tures of every description and quality, from the 
 best that genius can boast, to the worst that 
 fraud can manufacture ; until all the wealth of 
 individuals disposable for the objects of virtu 
 has been diverted into channels from which our 
 native arts can derive no advantage. 
 
 Who will now risk his property, or implicate 
 his taste, in the hopeless encouragement of 
 living talents ? when he may increase the one, 
 and establish the other, by purchasing pictures 
 
xvii 
 
 of acknowledged reputation and ascertained 
 value ? 
 
 Thus circumstanced, the arts of the country 
 have no resource left, but in the liberality — in 
 the policy of the state ; and unless some public 
 exertion be made in their favour, they must 
 sink under difficulties which neither zeal, in- 
 dustry, nor genius can withstand. 
 
 When we consider the very trifling charge, 
 at which all the great objects resulting from an 
 enlightened national patronage of the arts 
 might be obtained ; it seems extraordinary, 
 that a people, generous to prodigality in every 
 other department of expense, should, in this 
 instance, betray a parsimony, as ungracious as 
 it is ineffectual. Can it be thought consistent 
 with the liberality, the dignity, the glory, or 
 the sound and comprehensively understood in- 
 terests of this great empire, to remain the only 
 example of a civilized nation, indifferent to 
 those softeners of human life, those refiners of 
 the rough and drossy ore of humanity, the sup- 
 port and protection of w r hich have been, in all 
 
xviii 
 
 ages and countries, amongst the primary ob- 
 jects of the politician and the philosopher ? 
 Shall it be said of Britain, that from the millions 
 supplied by her industry and wealth to answer 
 the exigencies of the state for all the purposes 
 of power and commerce, not a guinea can be 
 spared to promote her moral ascendancy — her 
 intellectual triumphs; to save her arts from 
 utter extinction, or to co-operate with those 
 praiseworthy efforts, which oppressed and de- 
 sponding individuals have made with such per- 
 severance and success ? In vain, however, will 
 it be expected, that they can maintain the 
 honourable position they have taken, if timely 
 succours are not afforded to them \ if the spirit- 
 ed sallies of genius are not seconded by those 
 resources of vigour and defence, which the 
 state only can effectually supply ; and which 
 the peculiar desertion of all the ordinary powers 
 of support has rendered indispensable to their 
 very existence. 
 
 It is a mistake unworthy of an enlightened 
 government, to conceive that the arts, left to 
 the influence of ordinary events, turned loose 
 
xix 
 
 upon society, to fight and scramble in the rude 
 and revolting contest of coarser occupations, 
 can ever arrive at that perfection which contri- 
 butes so materially to the permanent glory of 
 a state. 
 
 This is the true handicraft consideration of 
 the subject — the warehouse wisdom of a dealer 
 and chapman, w r ho would make the artist a 
 manufacturer, and measure his works by the 
 yard. The arts treated commercially, — in- 
 trusted to that vulgar and inadequate impression 
 of their importance, which is to be found in the 
 mass of society, never did, and never can 
 flourish in any country. The principle of 
 trade, and the principle of the arts, are not 
 only d ; ssimilar but incompatible. Profit is 
 the impelling power of the one — praise, of the 
 other. Employment is the pabulum vita of the 
 first — encouragement , of the last. These terms 
 are synonymous in the ordinary avocations of 
 life; but in the pursuits of taste and genius, 
 they differ as widely in meaning as coldness, from 
 kindness — as the sordid commerce of mecha- 
 nics, from the liberal intercourse of gentlemen, 
 b 
 
XX 
 
 Wherever the fine arts have been carried to 
 any extraordinary degree of perfection, we find 
 these observations corroborated. Amongst the 
 ancients or the moderns, in Greece, in Italy, or 
 in France under Louis the Fourteenth, it was 
 neither the agency of the commercial spirit, 
 nor even the more congenial operation of pri- 
 vate patronage, that kindled those lights of 
 genius which irradiate with such splendour the 
 hemisphere of Taste. The spark was struck 
 by a collision more exalted. — The impulse was 
 given from above — from all that was powerful 
 in the state respecting all that was ingenious in 
 the time ; attending with solicitude to the birth 
 of Ability, fostering and invigorating the first 
 struggles of his weakness, — stimulating and 
 rewarding the utmost exertions of his strength 
 — setting an example of homage to Genius, 
 which rescued him from the ever ready con- 
 tumely of vulgar greatness, and taught him to 
 respect himself. 
 
 Noble and national objects are not to be 
 effected by common and contracted means: the 
 stimulus must ever be in proportion to the ex- 
 ertion required ; and they must be themselves 
 
xxi 
 
 honoured, who are expected to do honour to 
 their country. What results can be looked for, 
 from the desponding struggles of genius in a 
 state which shews such disregard to the culti- 
 vation of her arts, as not to employ a thought 
 on their influence, or even hazard an experi- 
 ment for their protection ? 
 
 The effects likely to be produced in this 
 country, by the animating powers of national 
 patronage, cannot be calculated, because we 
 have had as yet no experience to govern our 
 conclusions ; but there is the strongest reason 
 to believe, that if the field of Taste were pro- 
 perly protected — carefully fenced off from the 
 common of life, it would not prove 
 
 " A soil ungrateful to the tiller's care." Drydkn. 
 
 Without any adequate assistance, nay, ob- 
 structed and oppressed by circumstances pecu- 
 liarly hostile to their interests, the arts of Eng- 
 land have already advanced beyond our hopes, 
 and taken precedence of their age. What may 
 we not therefore anticipate from their exer- 
 tions, if they shall be so fortunate as to experi- 
 
xxii 
 
 ence those inspiring proofs of public estima- 
 tion, which, in all former instances, have been 
 essential to their existence. 
 
 Surely, in concerns of this kind, there can be 
 no room for the considerations of petty econo- 
 my — for the demurrings of estimate and calcu- 
 lation : — there is an expense which enriches 
 and adorns a state, — and an economy which 
 impoverishes and degrades it. The one is the 
 enlightened policy of the merchant connected 
 with the commerce of the world ; who, calcu- 
 lating on the broad scale of profit and loss, 
 comprehends remote advantages, combines 
 complicated operations, and pours out his funds 
 with apparent profusion, through a thousand 
 outlets of hazardous adventure, — secure in the 
 general result of his principles, and calmly 
 tracing the progress of his interests through all 
 their circuitous channels of return : the other is 
 the shortsighted solicitude of the pedlar, whose 
 ideas are confined to his counter ; who, incapa- 
 ble of generalized views, or extended opera- 
 tions, sees not beyond the first links of vulgar 
 advantage; but casting up in his terrified ima- 
 
xxiii 
 
 gination the paltry items of daily disbursement, 
 suffers the apprehensions of expense to over- 
 come the hopes of profit, till he has neither 
 understanding to speculate nor spirit to ad- 
 venture. 
 
 It is the policy of a great nation to be liberal 
 and magnificent ; to be free of her rewards, 
 splendid in her establishments, and gorgeous 
 in her public works. These are not the ex- 
 penses that sap and mine the foundations of 
 public prosperity ; that break in upon the 
 capita], or lay waste the income of a state: they 
 may be said to arise in her most enlightened 
 views of general advantage ; to be amongst her 
 best and most profitable speculations : they 
 produce large returns of respect and considera- 
 tion from our neighbours and competitors — of 
 patriotic exultation amongst ourselves; they 
 make men proud of their country, and from 
 priding in it — prompt in its defence: they play 
 upon all the chords of generous feeling — elevate 
 us above the animal and the machine, and 
 make us triumph in the powers and attributes 
 of man. 
 
xxiv 
 
 The examples of her taste and genius, — the 
 monuments of her power and glory — all the 
 memorials of her magnificence, are to a great 
 state, what his dress and equipage are to a great 
 man, — necessary to his rank, and becoming his 
 dignity ; but amongst the more trifling charges 
 of his establishment. 
 
 What expense can be more gracious — more 
 becoming — more popular ? can tend more di- 
 rectly " to bless him that giveth, and him who 
 receiveth," than that which is directed to adorn 
 and dignify our country, — which does honour 
 to her valour and her virtue, — which calls forth 
 the energies of her genius, and directs them to 
 the celebration of her fame ? 
 
 Are these objects of less consequence than 
 the erection of a public office, or the widening 
 of a street ? Do they appeal with less force to 
 " men's business and bosoms," to their pleasures 
 or their pride ? But were they even as trifling 
 as they can be proved to be important, the 
 means of attainment they require form an ob- 
 ject too small for the eye of national economy. 
 
XXV 
 
 A drop from the ocean of our expenditure 
 would sufficiently impregnate the powers of 
 taste, in a country naturally prolific in every 
 department of genius. 
 
 As far as the interference of the government 
 would be required, every thing necessary, or 
 even expedient, to the liberal patronage of arts 
 and artists in this powerful and wealthy empire, 
 might be effected at an expense amounting to 
 little more than the perquisites of a clerk in 
 office, or the pension of a superannuated 
 envoy. 
 
 To impress these sentiments on the minds of 
 the few who may be led to look into this little 
 volume — to stir with his pebble the slumbering 
 lake of public feeling, on the subject of the 
 arts, has been a strong motive for the author's 
 publication at the present moment. He has 
 long delayed, in the hope that superior powers 
 would advocate the cause — that some abler 
 hand would 
 
 " Snatch the quill, 
 
 And save him on the brink of writing ill." Young. 
 
xxvi 
 
 But the children of Taste are not wealthy 
 clients, and as yet they have had no counsel 
 assigned them by the court. Like Curtius, 
 therefore, he does not hesitate to plunge into 
 the gulf of criticism, regretting only that the 
 victim is not of sufficient consequence to ap- 
 pease the angry powers, and avert the fate that 
 appears to impend on his profession. 
 
 In treating of the various discouragements 
 which at present hang heavily on the exertions 
 of the living artist, it was impossible to avoid 
 remonstrating against that unkind and unpa- 
 triotic feeling towards the productions of our 
 own time, which characterizes the criticism of 
 the day. 
 
 To withhold from the painter the pecuniary 
 reward of his exertions, and contract his means, 
 in proportion as his expenses increase ; to let 
 him see those who would " cavil on the ninth 
 part of an hair," in dealing out to him a scanty 
 portion of depressing employment, pouring out 
 their thousands with emulous profusion into the 
 pockets of picture-dealers, and often bestowing 
 
xxvii 
 
 on foreign imbecility, that affluence which is 
 sought for in vain through the happiest pro- 
 ductions of native strength; are circumstances 
 sufficiently mortifying to check the ardour of 
 enthusiasm in sensitive minds. Yet these are 
 difficulties which might be surmounted — they 
 still leave something to glitter in the eye of 
 ambition ; though the artist's works may not 
 be purchased, they may be praised ; fame at 
 least may crown his labours, and console him 
 under the coarser cares of life. But to refuse 
 him praise, as well as profit, — instead of the 
 gracious smile of encouragement, to greet him 
 with the frown of scorn, and, by indiscrimi- 
 nate censure, prove that he is tried by the in- 
 quisition of prejudice, rather than the tribunal 
 of taste: this indeed is a state of things suffici- 
 ent to annihilate his hopes, to break at once the 
 most effective springs of genius, and extinguish 
 the last embers of ambition. 
 
 Yet to this state, unfortunately, we appear to 
 be arrived. Even the unsubstantial breath of 
 praise, that " chamaelion's dish," which feeds 
 
xxviii 
 
 11 promise-crammed" the delicate appetite of 
 genius, is considered out of season, and no 
 longer served for his support. 
 
 The balance of trade is indeed (to speak 
 commercially) completely against us ; and al- 
 though the hardy progeny of Commerce and 
 Manufacture (upon whose rough and lusty 
 limbs the cumbrous swathings of mistaken af- 
 fection act but as the fetters of obstruction and 
 restraint) are cautiously cradled up in bounties 
 and protecting duties — the tender offspring of 
 Taste are left helpless, naked, and exposed. 
 
 Their situation appears a paradox; and, like 
 the Spaniards, after the discovery of the trea- 
 sures of the New World, they are impoverish- 
 ed by an importation of wealth. So many 
 rich galleons of art have been brought home 
 from the Peru of picture-dealers, that we dis- 
 dainfully turn from our native productions; 
 and even an ingot from the British mine is 
 considered a metal too base for the circulation 
 of Taste, 
 
xxix 
 
 Our critics are transformed to antiquaries, 
 with whom every thing is prized that is proved 
 to be old ; and the sterling currency of the day, 
 though stamped in the mint of Genius, is cried 
 down in favour of rusty coins and Queen Anne's 
 farthings. 
 
 The author is aware that these observations 
 apply principally to those, whom Reynolds so 
 justly characterized as purblind critics, and 
 half-learned connoisseurs; but this class has 
 alarmingly increased of late : the hive has 
 swarmed since his time, and while they buz for 
 ever in our unprotected ears, they sting us in 
 all directions. 
 
 For the liberal, the enlightened connoisseur, 
 the artist must ever feel affection and respect ; 
 for him he toils, and to him he looks for the 
 reward most congenial to his heart — the ap- 
 plause of pure feeling and cultivated taste: this 
 just tribute to talent the true critic is ever 
 pleased to pay ; he knows what genius has to 
 encounter ; he knows the crossings and jostlings 
 of the course, and is careful not to obstruct the 
 
XXX 
 
 racer's progress at least, when he cannot stimu- 
 late his speed: he is in nothing more honour- 
 ably distinguished from the vain pretender, 
 than in the zealous alacrity with which he hails 
 the candidate for fame when he is successful, 
 and the generous indulgence with which he 
 treats his feelings when he fails. The one is a 
 liberal believer, who bows in rational homage 
 at the shrine of Taste ; who puts not implicit 
 faith in authority, and brings all the dogmas of 
 criticism to the test of nature and truth. The 
 other is a bigot, who propagates imposture, and 
 blindly adores, who immolates living victims 
 on the altar of his idol antiquity, and damns 
 the creed of others without understanding his 
 own. 
 
 If the author has presumed to direct the 
 shafts of ridicule against this latter description 
 of pretenders ; if he has been prompted to ex- 
 claim with the enlightened President* of the 
 Imperial Academy of Petersburgh, " Delivrez 
 nous, grand Dieu ! de ces amateurs sans amour, 
 
 * Count de Stroganoff — Academic Correspondence, 1803. 
 
xxxi 
 
 de ces connoisseurs sans connoissance;" he is 
 convinced that all those will join in the prayer 
 who do not feel its application, and who have a 
 true respect for the taste, the talents, and the 
 reputation of their country. Though, 
 
 " Like the bold bird upon the banks of Nile, 
 That picks the teeth of the dire crocodile 
 
 he has ventured to sport a little within the tre- 
 mendous and devouring jaws of Criticism, he is 
 satisfied that 
 
 « . Truths like these 
 
 Will none offend whom 't is a praise to please 
 
 And notwithstanding the alarming exclamation 
 of the poet, as to the consequence of such a 
 principle in the conduct of his rhymes, 
 
 " Nullaque mica salis, nec amari fellis in illis 
 Gutta sit: O demens ! vis tamen ilia legi + ?" 
 
 he has cautiously abstained from any expression 
 which might be suspected of a personal allu- 
 sion. 
 
 In attempting to uphold the arts of his time 
 
 * Young, 
 
 f Martial. 
 
xxxii 
 
 against the unpatriotic prejudices, that would 
 not only discourage but destroy them, the au- 
 thor is proud to be so amply justified in the 
 abilities they display. To enumerate all the 
 merits around him, would appear to be unne- 
 cessarily diffuse ; and to make a selection from 
 them on the present occasion, might seem in- 
 vidious : but he has no hesitation to assert, that 
 from the productions of living genius at this 
 moment in Great Britain, might be produced 
 examples of excellence in every department of 
 art, that would adorn the noblest collections, 
 and reflect honour on any age or nation. 
 
 But were this even a partial opinion— were the 
 arts at as low an ebb amongst us, as those whose 
 interest it is to decry them would persuade us 
 to believe, still, this circumstance would only 
 furnish a more urgent reason why an exertion 
 should be made to retrieve them ; why w r e 
 should try the effects of kindness, since cold- 
 ness has so long prevailed in vain. 
 
 The object is well worth an exertion, for 
 our morals are materially connected with our 
 
xxxiii 
 
 arts, and a good taste not only refines but re- 
 forms. But as a state becomes enriched, not 
 by the collection of ancient coins in the cabinets 
 of the curious, but by the active circulation of 
 its present currency ; so also a pure taste is es- 
 tablished in a nation, not by hoarding old pic- 
 tures in the galleries of the great, but by the 
 employment of its living talents, and the circu- 
 lation of its living arts. 
 
 A pure taste, indeed, is of the first order of 
 national benefits; it is a talisman which adorns 
 every thing that it touches, and which touches 
 every thing within the magic circle of its sway : 
 — there is nothing too high for its influence, or 
 too low for its attention ; and while it mounts 
 on wings of fire with the poet and the painter, 
 " to the highest heaven of invention,'' it de- 
 scends with humble diligence to the aid of the 
 mechanic at the anvil and the loom. 
 
 The ancients, sensible of its importance, neg- 
 lected no means of cherishing those pursuits, 
 through which only, it is to be effectually ob- 
 tained. With them the painter — the sculptor, 
 
xxxiv 
 
 were characters of the highest consequence; 
 they held them not as the mere ministers of 
 elegant pleasures — the curious caterers of intel- 
 lectual dainties for the luxurious palate of sen- 
 sibility ; but as the effective agents of moral 
 good, and mechanical improvement — as the 
 real benefactors of society, refining its pleasures 
 from sensuality, its luxuries from grossness, and 
 its con venienciesfrom clumsiness and deformity. 
 They honoured their talents not more in their 
 immediate effects, than they valued them for 
 their remote influence. They cultivated the 
 utilities of life in its ornaments, and took the 
 most certain mode of supplying the circulation 
 of improvement by invigorating the source from 
 which it flowed. 
 
 Thus enlightened in their views, they were 
 rewarded in a degree proportioned to the wis- 
 dom which governed them. A peculiar cha- 
 racter of elegance and propriety pervaded the 
 whole circle of their arts, which made even 
 trifles interesting: and so little have the moderns 
 to pride themselves on their advancement in 
 these respects, that to have successfully imitated 
 
XXXV 
 
 their productions, is the boast of our most in- 
 genious manufactures. 
 
 If pre-eminence in the polite arts be a dis- 
 tinction worthy the ambition of a powerful 
 state (and that it is, no enlightened observer of 
 mankind has ever hesitated to assert) ; if the 
 possession of a pure taste (which, wherever it 
 exists, like a penetrating spirit, purifies and 
 improves — informs and animates the whole mass 
 of national ability, from the lowest example of 
 its application, to the highest exercise of its 
 power) be an object of the greatest interest not 
 only to the painter, but to the politician — to 
 the moralist as well as to the manufacturer, how 
 deserving of reprehension are they, who would 
 inconsiderately obstruct us in the pursuit of 
 such an advantage! — who, to gratify an idle 
 affectation of refinement, would blast the powers 
 of genius at the moment of bloom and promise, 
 and bury the productions of their own times 
 under the ruins of antiquity ! 
 
 To this illiberal class of critics, who delight in 
 depreciating the genius of their country, and 
 c 
 
xxxvi 
 
 endeavour to justify their ungenerous desertion 
 of her arts, by denying the existence of those 
 talents which they have not the spirit to pa- 
 tronize, the author would reply only in the 
 words of Martial, 
 
 " Sint Mecaenates, non deerunt Flacce Marones." 
 
 Generous patronage has never yet failed to pro- 
 duce great artists in other countries ; what 
 effects it would have in our own, is worth an 
 experiment to ascertain. 
 
 Thus far the author has been seduced to en- 
 large beyond his original purpose ; but the sub- 
 ject springs from his heart, and pours unpre- 
 meditated through his pen. He set out with a 
 view to a short introductory excursion, but he 
 followed his road till he forgot his intention, and 
 on looking back he is surprised, and ought per- 
 haps to be ashamed, to think how far he has 
 rambled. Indeed, when he compares the size 
 of his porch to the slightness of his edifice, 
 he fears he will be thought to have overlaid 
 his book in his preface, as much as his notes 
 have overrun his rhymes. 
 
xxxvii 
 
 As to the reception of his performance, it 
 maybe supposed, that in the present state of 
 things the author cannot be very sanguine ; he 
 is too well aware of the important considera- 
 tions which at this juncture, press upon the 
 public mind. — " Quibus occupatus et obsessus 
 animus, quantulum loci bonis artibus relinquit" 
 
 In the general and ardent attention also, to 
 objects more esteemed at least, if not more esti- 
 mable — more fashionable, if not more refined, 
 he cannot flatter himself that his feeble voice 
 will be heard. Yet there are a few, he trusts, 
 M r ho still feel an interest in the advancement of 
 our national taste,— who may authorize him to 
 exclaim with the poet, 
 
 " Non canimus surdis 
 
 who may catch, even from his faint spark, the 
 generous glow of enthusiasm, and supply by 
 their vigour, the defects of his weakness. AH 
 those who have hearts as well as heads, who 
 are patriots as well as critics, will take part 
 with the subject, whatever they may think of 
 the song ; and he hopes the incompetence of 
 c 2 
 
XXXVlll 
 
 the pleader will not be allowed to prejudice the 
 cause. 
 
 Should his unskilful bearing in the field draw 
 forth some abler champion : 
 
 " Should his weak strain some nobler muse excite, 
 He'll glory in the verse he did not write." Young. 
 
 For the execution of his work, however, he 
 makes no apology ; not because he considers it 
 unnecessary, but that he thinks it always im- 
 pertinent. All the graces of language — all the 
 refinements of style will not be rigorously ex- 
 acted from him whose hand is more accustomed 
 to his pencil than his pen. 
 
 Horace has long since declared the fate of 
 those who write bad verses — 
 
 " Ridentur mala qui componunt carmina." 
 
 Should the author be convicted as a culprit 
 of this cast, and suffer the punishment accord- 
 ingly, he thinks, after a twitch or two from his 
 vanity, he will have good humour enough to 
 join in the laugh. He has not, indeed, so high 
 an opinion of his reputation, as to suppose he 
 
xxxix 
 
 can suffer much in the esteem of his readers, by 
 an attempt to awaken the public attention to 
 the neglected arts of his country, even though 
 it should be proved that he had displayed his 
 z^al at the expense of his discretion. 
 
 Satisfied that his efforts will be treated with 
 candour, he has too much respect for the inter- 
 ests of literature, to wish for an indulgence 
 incompatible with that vigilance of criticism 
 which guards the public taste from perversion ; 
 which exposes the errors of ignorance, and pu- 
 nishes the pretensions of vanity. 
 
xli 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 TO 
 
 THE SECOND EDITION. 
 
 In offering to the public the second impression 
 of his work, the author cannot omit the oppor- 
 tunity afforded him of congratulating his pro- 
 fession, and let him add his country, on the 
 prospect of attaining in a considerable degree 
 those objects which the following pages were 
 principally directed to recommend. 
 
 The spirit which has so often, and so honour- 
 ably distinguished Britons, in the promotion of 
 liberal views and useful undertakings, appears 
 at length to be aroused to the interests of the 
 fine arts ; and the public has had the gratifica- 
 tion of seeing announced, the first meetings of 
 a society expressly formed for their encourage- 
 ment and protection, under the title of " The 
 British Institution/' 
 
xlii 
 
 It was indeed hardly possible to suppose, at 
 a period when every object of speculation that 
 offers even a probability of amusement, or a 
 possibility of use, finds its full share of impor- 
 tance in the scale of public attention, that pur- 
 suits so eminently conducive to the polish of 
 life, as attractive in their nature as beneficial 
 in their influence, should remain neglected, 
 unfriended, and forgotten. 
 
 It was scarcely credible, that the liberality of 
 the time, so active, so enterprising in every 
 other direction 5 should continue longer to turn 
 aside from that in which its influence would be 
 most effectual — should leave unregarded those 
 objects only which more particularly required 
 its support. On this subject the author's hopes 
 were sanguine, and he has not been disappoint- 
 ed. He is proud to have been one of those who, 
 like the ancient Roman, though every thing 
 appeared to be lost, did not despair of his 
 country, but " trusted there were yet some 
 who felt an interest in the advancement of our 
 national taste*." 
 
 * Preface to the first edition, page xxxvii. 
 
xliii 
 
 From the names subscribed to the advertise- 
 ment of " The British Institution," the public 
 must have seen, that the foundation has been 
 laid by men whose rank, respectability, and 
 influence amply qualify them to execute with 
 effect whatever design they propose ; and his 
 Majesty's approbation of their plan, which they 
 have been so fortunate as to obtain, is an addi- 
 tional security, that the superstructure will be 
 both useful and ornamental to their country. 
 
 From an undertaking so patronized and so 
 supported, much may be confidently hoped ; 
 even in the general conviction that something 
 should be done, a good deal has been effected. 
 Liberal ideas are abroad ; the seeds of protec- 
 tion are sown in a congenial soil, and though 
 the first product should suffer a little from want 
 of experience in this kind of oeconomy, yet 
 sufficient will grow out of the general zeal to 
 compensate the culture. Whatever success 
 may attend the more immediate views of the 
 British institution, the spirit which directs them 
 is deserving of the warmest commendation ; and 
 were the advantages to be derived from such an 
 
xliv 
 
 establishment, doubtful, or ineffectual in every 
 other respect, yet its evident tendency to create 
 a disposition more favourable to the living arts, 
 and to sanction the patriotic feelings of those 
 who may be inclined to cherish and befriend 
 them, cannot fail to produce effects highly bene- 
 ficial to the interests of taste ; and should secure 
 to it the respect and support of all who profess 
 a zeal for their preservation. 
 
 The nature of the plan, however, as far as it 
 is unfolded in the printed papers distributed by 
 the Institution, suggests many considerations, 
 which the author's anxiety for the objects to be 
 obtained, would prompt him to offer on the pre- 
 sent occasion, did not his respect for the judg- 
 ment of those concerned render him propor- 
 tionably diffident of his own. To comment on 
 what may be supposed the defects of a scheme 
 as yet in its infancy, would perhaps be con- 
 sidered premature, if not officious. To start 
 objections, though often the duty of a friend, 
 is more often considered the office of a foe ; and 
 he would much rather commend than criticise. 
 That every thing liberal and munificent is in- 
 
xlv 
 
 tended, he is convinced ; and he hopes that 
 every thing wise and efficacious will be the 
 result. 
 
 But with whatever satisfaction we may con- 
 template this patriotic sensibility arising in the 
 minds of the public to the interests of the fine 
 arts ; or however we may look forward in grate- 
 ful expectation to the farther developement of 
 those views so liberally directed for their ad- 
 vancement; there will, nevertheless, be some 
 reason to regret, should the government hold 
 itself exonerated in consequence, from all in- 
 terference in their favour. The efforts of indi- 
 viduals may do much to keep alive the spirit of 
 the arts amongst us, especially, when co-oper- 
 ating with judgment for that purpose; but the 
 protection of the state only, can invigorate their 
 existence, or animate them to those ennobling 
 exertions which constitute the triumph of an 
 age, and which only can be deemed correspon- 
 dent with the other splendid achievements of 
 this great empire *. 
 
 * In a review of his work, printed in the Literary Journal 
 for July, an inconsistency has been attributed to the author's 
 
xlvi 
 
 On this ground principally, the author would 
 rest his remonstrance, as most worthy of those 
 whom he addresses, and of the cause which he 
 
 arguments, inasmuch as, that while he asserts the protection 
 of the state to be necessary to the splendour of the fine arts, 
 he admits, that Great Britain without this protection, has ex- 
 celled her neighbours in every department of painting, &c. 
 A short explanation of his sentiments will remove this objec- 
 tion. From the present debilitated state of the arts in Europe, 
 the palm of superiority may be assigned to Britain, without 
 supposing her arts to have attained that degree of splendour 
 which makes the application of stronger stimuli unnecessary 
 to their reputation ; and though no man can be more sensible 
 of the talents she has displayed, and the wonders they have 
 wrought in the face of neglect and depression, nevertheless, 
 the author conceives the British school will yet need some 
 warm beams of patronage before it can be ripened to the re- 
 nown of former times. 
 
 But supposing the proficiency we have hitherto made, suffi- 
 cient to satisfy our ambition, and secure our fame, the author 
 thinks that he has assigned causes, why, without some vigorous 
 effort in their favour, the arts must now be expected to dege- 
 nerate; causes which have dried up all the springs of private 
 encouragement, and rendered it scarcely possible for us to 
 preserve that superiority over our contemporaries which the 
 powers of genius and industry, in despite of every obstacle, 
 enabled us to obtain. 
 
 The question " Whether a government should interfere for 
 
xlvii 
 
 supports. He does not affect to treat the sub- 
 ject systematically, or to work the sum of his 
 argument by the golden rule of arithmetic; he 
 would rather speak to the liberal feelings than 
 the selfish interests of society, though the ap- 
 peal might be made with equal strength to 
 both. 
 
 Whether the employment, he will not say the 
 encouragement of the time, be not sufficient to 
 enable the arts to vegetate in mediocrity 
 
 the protection of the fine arts" may possibly be more doubt- 
 ful than poets and painters are disposed to believe, but they 
 have at least experience to plead in defence of their opinion, 
 since there occurs no instance of the pursuits under discussion 
 having attained to that degree of lustre which gilds the repu- 
 tation of a country, unless in periods when they appear to have 
 been singled out as objects of particular solicitude, and adopted 
 in a great measure as the children of the state. 
 
 The opinion of D'Alembert (quoted in the Review) on this 
 subject, is somewhat suspicious, and the example he cites in 
 support of it unlucky ; for though Great Britain has done more 
 than sufficient to vindicate her genius and her climate from 
 imputation, yet at no period of her history (as far as concern 
 the objects more particularly in the author's view) can she be 
 adduced as " a proof that the fine arts flourish most when they 
 are left to themselves." 
 
xlviii 
 
 amongst us? Whether painting, in particular, 
 may not contrive to exist as the humble com- 
 panion of literature — the handmaid of ostenta- 
 tious typography, 
 
 " To dress her charms and make her more beloved?" 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Or, whether our artists may not " get their 
 bread in decent competence" from the profits 
 of panoramas, or the projects of printsellers — by 
 drudging in our modern manufactories of fron- 
 tispiece and vignette — officiating as the decoy 
 ducks of sporting booksellers, and luring the 
 public eye to works 
 
 " In which the pictures for the page atone ?* Pope. 
 
 These are questions, which, whatever impor- 
 tance may be attached to them, the author cer- 
 tainly, had no intention to discuss. Neither did 
 he design to plead the cause of imbecility, or 
 ask honours and rewards for those who have 
 shewn neither ambition nor merit. The me- 
 chanic who degrades the pencil, if he cannot 
 make himself useful or agreeable to the mass of 
 society, has assuredly, but little claim to be dis- 
 
xlix 
 
 tinguished from any other workman who endea- 
 vours more successfully, though more coarsely, 
 to consult their accommodation. The painter 
 who pursues his art as a trade, and thinks when 
 he \s paid that he is rewarded, should certainly 
 be content if he is allowed, on equal terms, to 
 play at the round game of profit and loss, and 
 shuffle his cards with the contentious crowd, 
 
 te Who follow fortune through her filthy maze." 
 
 These are adventurers who have indeed no 
 claim to be allowed the odds in their favour, and 
 whether they win or lose the paltry stakes for 
 which they play, is a consideration of no con- 
 sequence in our calculations. 
 
 The author's observations were directed to 
 higher points. It is not for the cultivation of 
 mediocrity he contends, but the production of 
 excellence; not that the artist may live in ease 
 and luxury, but that the arts may flourish in 
 pride and perfection; that an object may be 
 held out to the ambition, not to the avarice of 
 the painter; and that he may be fired to such 
 
1 
 
 exertions as shall immortalize his name, and 
 shed a glory on his country. 
 
 To draw some portion of the public attention 
 to the neglected state of the historical arts^ at 
 the present moment ; and to point out some of 
 those causes (peculiar to the times) from which 
 their total decay may be justly apprehended, 
 unless some vigorous exertion be made in their 
 favour ; to remind his country, that it is some 
 part of the duty of a great state, to pursue the 
 refinements, as the shortest road to the utilities 
 of life, and use some endeavours towards kin- 
 dling those lights by which she is to shine here- 
 after; to shew that it is some part of the duty 
 of an enlightened government, to hold out in- 
 citements to superior worth ; to erect a standard 
 of honour and liberality round which the enter- 
 prising genius of the time 
 
 " May rally, and resolve on death or fame." 
 
 These indeed, are points, to impress which 
 the author would willingly lay out his little 
 skill; but he has not the vanity to think he can 
 
do more than place the nail with his small 
 hammer, to drive it home requires a sledge be- 
 yond his strength to wield*. 
 
 To no people, however, can such topics be 
 
 * It may, perhaps, be proper to notice here the mistake of 
 those who have supposed that individual feelings of discontent 
 have mingled with the author's zeal, and sharpened his remon- 
 strance. As a portrait painter, he never conceived that he had 
 any cause for complaint. Portrait painting has always met 
 with encouragement in this country, at least as far as employ- 
 ment may be considered to answer that idea ; and his portion of 
 public favour has, perhaps, been more than commensurate to 
 his merits. On this ground, therefore, complaint would have 
 been as unjust as undignified ; and if he had not conceived 
 that higher interests were at stake than any which can relate 
 to so humble an individual as himself, or even to that depart- 
 ment of the art which he professes, he would not have had 
 the presumption to trouble the public with his sentiments. 
 Whatever value may be attached to his ideas on this subject, 
 the motives which influenced their publication were as pure 
 and disinterested as can be consistent with a slight seasoning 
 of literary ambition; and should the objects he lies endeavoured 
 to recommend, be obtained even in their fullest extent, the 
 line of art to which he is devoted, makes it unlikely that he 
 shall derive from that circumstance any other advantage than 
 what may result from contemplating the splendour of the arts 
 and the glory of his country. 
 
 d 
 
lii 
 
 addressed with more prospect of success thar* 
 to the people of this country. That they should 
 require to be reminded of any duty resulting 
 from liberal feelings and enlightened views, is 
 one of those extraordinary circumstances, to be 
 accounted for only by that inconsistency which 
 attaches to the human character in all situa- 
 tions, whether considered separately in indivi- 
 duals, or collectively in states. 
 
 The rank which Great Britain holds amongst 
 nations, requires that she should neglect no ho-* 
 nourable means of distinction — that she should 
 leave no sail unfurled that can waft her to re- 
 nown. The part she plays is of the first cast 
 in the great drama of human affairs, and de- 
 mands that she should omit no characteristic 
 appendage, no becoming ornament in the cos- 
 tume of national greatness. 
 
 Though power and wealth are the prime 
 agents in establishing the consequence of a 
 country, yet, there are subsidiary means which 
 no high minded people will allow themselves 
 to disregard ; without which they know, that x 
 
the present may be divested of dignity, and the 
 future must be deprived of fame. Amongst 
 these means, the fine arts require more particu- 
 larly, and requite most effectually, the protec- 
 tion of the state. 
 
 There is a splendor in national patronage, 
 which, touching every spring of ambition, ele- 
 vates the powers of genius, and renders the 
 artist equal to the exertion required of him. He 
 that is employed by his country is dignified by 
 the occupation, and while he labours to com- 
 memorate her glory, feels that he is establishing 
 his own. This is the stimulus which the cir- 
 cumstances of the time seem most particularly 
 to require, and which, perhaps, it would be no 
 less judicious than generous to apply. 
 
 Convinced of the incalculable advantages to 
 be derived from the liberal encouragement and 
 assiduous cultivation of art and science ; and 
 availing themselves of that grace and popularity, 
 ever attached to the promotion and establish- 
 ment of measures, which combine under the 
 most flattering form of national munificence, 
 d 2 
 
liv 
 
 the most refined considerations of national in- 
 terest, the rulers of a neighbouring state have 
 taken steps to make its metropolis the general 
 emporium of taste, and draw to its shrine the 
 involuntary homage of mankind. They have 
 formed plans of public splendor and utility, 
 which demand, not our imitation, but our 
 rivalry; which imperiously call upon us to con- 
 sider, whether we will suffer ourselves to be 
 outrun in the interesting career of pacific glory ; 
 whether we will see with supineness the arts and 
 ingenuities of our country gradually surpassed 
 in purity of design and spirit of execution, 
 while nothing remains to balance against per- 
 verted feeling and degenerated taste, but bar- 
 barous indifference or unavailing regret. 
 
 With those who would leave the arts, unas- 
 sisted, to find their level in society; who con- 
 sult Adam Smith for their theory of taste as 
 well as of trade ; and would regulate the opera- 
 tions of virtu on the principles of the pin ma- 
 nufactory; with all those, in short, to whom 
 this world is but as one vast market — a saleshop 
 of sordid interests and selfish gratifications, ar- 
 
lv 
 
 guments drawn from the importance of the arts 
 as objects of taste and refinement, will have 
 little weight; and as objects of utility (in the 
 vulgar sense of that word) all apprehensions of 
 their decay will appear groundless or exagger- 
 ated : but they whose minds are enlarged to 
 general views, who enter into th,e character of 
 those pursuits, and are acquainted with their 
 nature, their history, and their influence, will 
 acknowledge their power, and deprecate what- 
 ever tends to their depression. 
 
 The level of the arts is not to be looked for 
 in the feelings, nor to be determined by the 
 wants and caprices of the million; it is to be 
 found only on the summits of civilization — in 
 the affection and admiration of minds elevated 
 to a due sense of their value, and satisfied that 
 not to distinguish, is to degrade them*. 
 
 * It has of late become so much the fashion, to view every- 
 thing through the commercial medium, and calculate the 
 claims of utility by the scale of " The Wealth of Nations," that 
 it is to be feared, the Muses and Graces will shortly be put 
 down as unproductive labourers, and the price current of the 
 day considered as the only criterion of merit. 
 
 Yet let us not justify the taunts of our rivals, and deliver up 
 
Ivi 
 
 It is much to be hoped, therefore, that those 
 who may think the arts justly entitled to the 
 protection of an enlightened government, and 
 who may feel disposed to come forward in sup* 
 port of their pretensions, will not allow them- 
 selves to be diverted from prosecuting so ho- 
 nourable a cause, or confine their zeal exclu- 
 sively to the furtherance of projects, which, 
 however laudable and beneficial, cannot reason- 
 all our ideas to the dominion of trade ; let us reserve a few old 
 fashioned sentiments in this general sale of our faculties 
 and understandings ; let us, if possible, keep some few spots 
 dry in this commercial deluge, upon which wit, and taste, 
 and genius, may repose. 
 
 There is a commercial as well as a political jacobinism, as 
 unworthy of the liberal merchant as of the loyal citizen ; there 
 is a levelling of the principles and feelings, as well as the ranks 
 and distinctions of society, and perhaps, in this country at this 
 moment, the more dangerous of the two; for it works unseen 
 and uncensured ; strikes at the ancient nobility of the mind — 
 the privileged powers of genius and virtue, and would pull down 
 all human perfection to be estimated according to the lowest 
 rate of exchange. If our heads and hearts are to be overrun 
 by a mob of mercenary sentiments, we shall have escaped to 
 little purpose the disorganization of one revolution, to be re- 
 served to suffer under the degradation of the other. Of a 
 system like this, the aits must ever be the first victims ; for 
 they flourish only in the prevalence of feelings which the sor- 
 did and sel fish passions effectually destroy. 
 
Ivii 
 
 &bly be expected to supersede the necessity of 
 that stimulus which the powers of the state can 
 so cheaply, gracefully, and effectually supply*. 
 
 The present period seems more than com- 
 monly auspicious in this respect. A disposition 
 appears to prevail in parliament^ which makes 
 it impossible to believe that an application 
 judiciously made would prove unsuccessful. 
 Within the last two years, grants have taken 
 place for objects of comparatively inferior im- 
 portance, which would make a refusal as un- 
 gracious, as it would be impolitic; not only 
 inconsistent, but unjustfo 
 
 * In touching on this subject the author cannot avoid paying 
 a small tribute of respect to the liberal ideas and intentions of 
 a gentleman, (Mr. W. Smyth) to whose taste and politeness 
 artists are much indebted, and from whose zeal and public 
 spirit the arts may yet hope to derive important advantages. 
 
 f Without meaning in the slightest degree to undervalue 
 the very honourable and beneficial purposes for which the 
 grants above alluded to have been made; the author conceives, 
 that he is warranted in assuming it as a point of still greater 
 consequence — to protect and invigorate the arts of our country ; 
 since to preserve works of genius can never tend so much to 
 the glory and prosperity of a state, as to produce them. 
 
 To allow the treasures of antiquity to be lost through negli- 
 
Iviii 
 
 The author hopes to see the day, when it will 
 be thought as wise an act of legislature to pro- 
 tect the arts, as to encourage the manufactures 
 of the country; when it will be considered as 
 becoming a duty of government to subsidize 
 the powers of taste, as the powers of the con- 
 tinent; they will be found allies less expen- 
 sive, more faithful, and almost as useful; they 
 will make common cause with us, and furnish a 
 formidable quota in the contest of renown. 
 
 A period of warfare, it is true, is a season of 
 pressure and embarrassment ; but it is also a 
 season of spirit and resource. It was, surround - 
 ed by hostile alarms — in the midst of foes and 
 reverses, that Louis the Fourteenth and his en- 
 lightened ministers formed those schemes, and 
 created those establishments of arts and sci- 
 ences, which have constituted the only true 
 glory of their age. A number of concurring 
 
 gence, or their influence to be weakened by dispersion, argues 
 not only insensibility but barbarism; yet while establishing 
 granaries in which to store the greatness of other countries, 
 let us not neglect to cultivate the growth at home. 
 
lix 
 
 circumstances, alarming to our national superi- 
 ority, have pointed out the present as the im- 
 portant moment of exertion. The arts may be 
 said to be just now within our reach ; they 
 stretch forth their hands to us with affectionate 
 partiality — if they are looked on coldly — if 
 they are slighted or despised, we may repent 
 our error, but it will be too late to retrieve it. 
 
 As a body, the artists of Great Britain have 
 some claim to the consideration of their country. 
 They cannot be accused of troublesome zeal, 
 or importunate solicitation. The institution 
 they maintain is an example of their disinter- 
 estedness, and the silence they have observed 
 is a sufficient proof of their moderation. They 
 have long looked forward to the needful aid of 
 national munificence; they have waited with 
 patient expectation till they may exclaim with 
 the poet, 
 
 " I am so long remembered, Pm forgot." Young. 
 
 Their interests (or rather the interests of the 
 arts) are now however in good hands; they 
 are espoused by those who are amply qualified 
 
to protect them, and who have influence suffi- 
 cient to procure from the state such aids, as 
 co-operating with private zeal and liberality, 
 must draw forth in full vigour whatever the 
 genius and industry of the nation can perform. 
 
 In advocating the cause of taste, they will 
 have in their favour all those considerations 
 which usually operate on superior minds : they 
 may look with confidence to the determination 
 of the highest wisdom and the most enlightened 
 policy j on subjects certainly not of trifling im- 
 portahcej nor of temporary interest. 
 
 Let it be confessed also, that the advantages 
 will be reciprocal, which may be expected to 
 result from national liberality thus displayed. 
 The light that shines will be reflected ; some- 
 thing will be done for the credit of the country 
 as well as for the advantage of the arts — for the 
 glory of those who shall patronize, as well as 
 the good of those who shall be protected. 
 
 However conspicuous and superior hi con- 
 ducting the affairs of empires, there is one path 
 
ixi 
 
 of reputation as yet unopened by British 
 statesmen; — a nich as yet unappropriated in 
 the temple of their fame. We have had great 
 orators and great politicians — great war minis* 
 ters, peace ministers, and ministers of finance; 
 but we have had no great patrons of the arts, 
 or protectors of the muses — neither a Mecaenas 
 nor a Colbert. 
 
 In the eyes of the present age — in the estima- 
 tion of posterity; w r hen the claims of true 
 greatness come to be impartially weighed, that 
 administration will not be held amongst the 
 least glorious, which shall be found to have 
 stretched forth a hand to sustain the drooping 
 genius of their country; which shall have pro- 
 tected the pursuits of peace amidst the opera- 
 tions of war, and while conducting her arms to 
 victory, called forth her arts to emulation. 
 
 The author hopes that he appreciates too 
 justly the value of his claims, not to be more 
 than content with the approbation his poetical 
 attempt has experienced from the public. As 
 
Ixii 
 
 a stranger in the land of literature, he has been 
 received with all the rites of hospitality; and 
 should the kindness of his treatment encourage 
 him to repeat his visit, he trusts he will not be 
 found neglectful, or ungrateful. 
 
 He regrets however, that the present edition, 
 though delayed in the publication, had passed 
 the press before his work attracted the notice 
 of the reviewers, as had he seen their remarks 
 in time, he would have endeavoured to profit 
 by their judgment, as much as he has been 
 gratified by their praise *. 
 
 The title of his book has been generally ob- 
 jected to, but upon grounds too complimentary 
 to its contents for the author to discuss. He 
 can only say, therefore, that could he have 
 found one calculated to convey a still more 
 humble idea of his performance, it would not 
 have been inconsistent with the opinion he had 
 formed of its claims. 
 
 * In this edition some verbal errors have been corrected. 
 
Ixiii 
 
 But, though he wished not to puff his pre- 
 tensions, neither did he design to depreciate 
 them : the label on the bottle certainly should 
 not disparage the wine : and however curiosity 
 may be disappointed in the interior of his 
 building, it is neither his interest nor his inten- 
 tion to discourage her at the door. If, therefore, 
 he continues to use a title which has been 
 thought to have so disadvantageous an effect, 
 it is because he conceives he cannot with pro- 
 priety alter it in the present publication, as 
 the change would give reason to expect a new 
 work rather than a new edition. 
 
 In the remaining part of his design, however, 
 he hopes to obviate this objection, and will en- 
 deavour that " the poverty of its titular pre- 
 tensions" (to use the words of one of his most 
 liberal critics) shall not operate to prejudice 
 his book. 
 
 Cavendish Square, 
 October 10, 1805. 
 
PART THE FIRST. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 The subject proposed — Britain late in applying to the arts — 
 the aspersions of foreigners on her climate and genius repelled 
 — apostrophe to the arts, expressive of their influence on so- 
 ciety — allusion to the establishment of the Royal Academy — 
 address to critics, to view with indulgence the productions of 
 native genius — allusion to departed British artists — Mortimer 
 — Wilson — Hogarth — Gainsborough — Reynolds — The author's 
 address and dedication of his poem to the spirit of Reynolds — 
 the arduous task of the poet and painter stated — caution to 
 those who mistake a transient liking, for that passionate love 
 of painting so essential to success — the qualities necessary to 
 form a painter — the number of pretenders to the pencil and 
 the lyre, but particularly those who apply to painting with 
 mercenary views, warned to desist from so unprofitable a 
 pursuit — the arts not productive of much emolument to those 
 who profess them — in the present day, from the coldness and 
 fastidiousness of taste, not even affording the incitement of 
 praise — allusion to the prosperous state of the arts in the six- 
 teenth century, and the liberal patronage they experienced 
 from the Medici family — apostrophe to Lorenzo de Medici, 
 who refined the taste while he undermined the liberty of hii 
 country — the author's wish that his country may never culti- 
 
 B 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 vate refinement at the expence of freedom — allusion to the 
 superior progress of the arts in despotic governments — a pro- 
 phecy, that Britain will furnish an example of the superior 
 energies of genius under a free system — address to Britannia to 
 cultivate the arts as the surest means of immortality, and add 
 a fifth great aera to the world. 
 
RHYMES ON AIRT^ 
 
 OR, THE 
 
 REMONSTRANCE, Kc. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 Munus et officium nil \ sc ?' lbens I ipse doce bo> 
 iptngens 3 r 
 
 Unde parentur opesj quid alet formetque {j^^f* 
 
 HORACE, A. P. 
 
 W hat various aids the student's course requires, 
 Whom Art allures, and love of fame inspires; 
 But chief, what toils demand his earlier hours, 
 Prepare his triumphs, and unfold his powers, 
 The Muse attempts — with beating bosom springs, 5 
 And dares adventurous on didactic wings. 
 
 b 2 
 
4 
 
 Too long our isle, though rich in stores of mind, 
 Proud to be free, scarce deigned to be refin'd ; 
 Still with a surly Spartan virtue frown'd, 
 Nor sought to rival states for arts renown'd: 10 
 But now no longer heedless we refuse 
 The profTerM garland of the Graphic Muse; 
 Britannia binds her laurelled brows once more, 
 .And adds the only wreath unwon before; 
 
 Line 14. And adds the only wreath, &c] — Whatever differ- 
 ence of opinion may exist as to the positive merits of the 
 English school of painting, the comparative claims which 
 distinguish it cannot be with justice denied. Indeed, when we 
 consider how few states around us, even so much as pretend to 
 the cultivation of the fine arts, it is paying no great compli- 
 ment to Great Britain to place her at their head. France is 
 perhaps the only country in Europe (except our own) in which 
 the merits of English art are not justly appreciated ; so long, 
 however, as the present meagre, debilitated style of art pre- 
 vails there, we shall not be very ambitious of her approbation. 
 The taste of the French has undergone a revolution as well as 
 their government, and with as little advantage to the one 
 as to the other ; the changes, however, have operated in oppo- 
 site directions ; for as, in politics, they proceeded from servi- 
 lity to licentiousness, so in taste they have passed from licen- 
 tiousness to servility; they have exchanged the fire, and 
 flutter of meretricious extravagance, for the frost, and phlegm 
 
5 
 
 While nations long supreme in taste retire, 15 
 Confess her claims, and in their turn admire. 
 
 of timorous detail; the shackles they fondly imagined they 
 had finally torn from their liberties, they have cast upon their 
 arts, and the pencil of a modern French artist moves in the 
 heaviest manacles of servile imitation. The bravura and infla- 
 tion of the school of Bouchet, are succeeded by the tame 
 constraint, the dry, sapless, statue-like insipidity of the school 
 of David. However enthusiastic, volatile, and unsteady the 
 character of the French may be in other respects, in the arts 
 they are remarkable for plodding perseverance, for heavy, dull, 
 undeviating toil: 
 
 A patient tribe, who turn the graphic wheel 
 With dog-trot diligence, and drowsy zeal ; 
 Minutiae-mongers, microscopic wights, 
 Whom Denner captivates, and Dow delights ; 
 Who spend on petty cares their puny powers, 
 And live to polish pores, and hairs, and flowers ; 
 To place a pimple with scorbutic skill, 
 To fix a freckle, and to plait a frill. 
 
 They are examples of the ill consequence of suffering theory 
 to advance too far before practice ; they reason so much about 
 their works, that they neglect the means to execute them, 
 and spend years of laborious idleness, in frivolous application 
 to subordinate parts. Occupied by the plan of his edifice, 
 the French painter forgets the superstructure to be raised upon 
 it, and after he has amassed his materials, and erected his 
 scaffold, discovers that he is unacquainted with his tools. 
 
6 
 
 Yet while supine our gentler genius lay, 
 And war and commerce bore exclusive sway ; 
 Ere Taste her orb from Latium had withdrawn, 
 Or yet the cliffs of Albion caught the dawn, 20 
 Coxcombs, exulting, dar'd her powers despise, 
 Aspers'd her sons, and slander'd e'en her skies : 
 
 They design #, however, with more diligence than we do, and 
 have more academical knowledge of the figure; they also take 
 more pains, and presume less upon the unassisted powers of 
 genius. Their preparatory studies, when about to execute a 
 large work, are more numerous and minute than can be 
 readily credited, or conceived in this country, where, perhaps, 
 we are too much in the opposite extreme. They, are timorous 
 combatants, who exhaust their powers in preparation, and 
 chill the ardour of enterprise by the coldness of precaution ; we, 
 on the other hand, are often rash adventurers, who plunge into 
 dangers against which we have not provided, and rush into the 
 field before we are sufficiently armed for the fight. 
 
 Line 21. Coxcombs, exulting, &c] — The sagacious reveries 
 of Du Bos, and Winkleman, on this subject, have been ably 
 
 * The drawings of Carlo Vanloo are among the most conspicuous orna- 
 ments of the French school, and must command respect for his name where-* 
 ever they are seen. — The sketches made by Vincent for his large work of 
 the Battle of the Pyramids, are composed with skill and executed with 
 vigor: and the Sextus, and Phaedra and Hypolitus of Guerin, evince a power 
 of expression, an eye for colouring and effect, which have gained him the 
 admiration of his own country j and were he by a bolder effort to shake off 
 the trammels imposed upon him by the present state of taste in France, 
 Gould not fail to procure him a much more extended sphere of reputation. 
 
7 
 
 But now no more th' injurious taunt is thrown; 
 Her arts, triumphant as her arms, are known ; 
 
 exposed by Barry, in his spirited defence of English genius. 
 He has, indeed, eombated those philosophical speculators on 
 climate with twofold powers ; he has employed his pen and 
 his pencil with eq-ial ability, and not only foiled them in 
 argument, but confounded them by fact. — Vide the great room 
 in the Adelphi. 
 
 Count Algarotti was not unwilling to compliment the su- 
 perior imagination of his countrymen, as contrasted with our 
 northern dulness. In a letter to Mr. Taylor Howe, printed 
 in Mason's life of Gray, we find the following passage: 
 " Cotesta maggior dose di pittura diro cosi ch'entra nella 
 nostra poesia, e forse uno effetto anchiessa della delicatezza, 
 ed irritabilita della fibra, delli nazioni posti sotto climi caldi ; 
 onde sentono, ed immaginano piu vivamente delli nazioni set- 
 tentrionale, piu atte per aventura, che noi non siamo; a pen- 
 sare con patienza, ad annalizare, a penetrare sino al fondo 
 delle cose." 
 
 We cannot indeed be much surprised at observations of this 
 kind from foreigners, when we find even amongst ourselves, men 
 of eminence like Blair expressing similar ideas. 
 
 Blair, in his thirteenth lecture, speaking of the admiration 
 which Cicero relates to have been produced in an assembly of 
 Romans, by an harmonious sentence in one of Carbo's orations, 
 adds the following reflections: "Now, though it be true that 
 Carbo's sentence is extremely musical, and would be agree- 
 able at this day to an audience, yet I cannot believe that an 
 
s 
 
 Arous'd, her genius soars on wing sublime, 25 
 Asserts her taste, and vindicates her clime. 
 
 English sentence equally harmonious would, by its harmony 
 alone, produce any such effect upon a British audience, or ex- 
 cite any such wonderful applause and admiration as Cicero 
 informs us this of Carbo produced: our northern ears are too 
 coarse and obtuse, ; the melody of speech has less power over 
 us, &c." Though it may be granted to Blair, that the effects 
 described by Cicero would not be produced in a British audi- 
 ence by a sentence equally harmonious with that of Carbo, yet 
 we are not called upon to admit the reason he assigns for it : 
 indeed Blair himself, in the first part of the paragraph from 
 which the above quotation is taken, accounts for this difference 
 between a Roman and a British audience, without ascribing 
 any part of it to the coarseness of our northern ears ; for he there 
 observes, that " in consequence of the genius of the Greek 
 and Roman languages, and the manner of pronouncing them, 
 the musical arrangement of sentences did in fact produce a 
 greater effect in public speaking among the ancients, than it 
 could possibly do in any modern oration. " 
 
 If we are less sensible than the Romans to the harmony of 
 speech, it is not, surely, because our ears are naturally coarser 
 than theirs, but because they are in this respect less cultivated ; 
 it is not that our sense of hearing is more obtuse, but that our 
 language is less musical. The organs of sense are to be im- 
 proved by education, as well as the faculties of the under- 
 standing ; we find by experience, that the eye, and the ear in 
 particular, must be taught with considerable attention, before 
 they are enabled to perform their functions with any extraor- 
 
9 
 
 Insult! to think the land where Shakspeare sprung, 
 The heav'n he breath'd — where seraph Milton sung! 
 In strains more sweet than erst from fabled shell 
 Of Orpheus old, or fam'd Amphion, fell : 30 
 Where Pope, where Dryden swept the soundinglyre, 
 With Manx's melody, and Homer's fire ! 
 Where Science, (long on weak Conjecture's wing, 
 A thwarted falcon, fluttering from the string,) 
 Loos'd by her Newton's hand, first shot on high, 35 
 And perchM amid the mansions of the sky: 
 
 dinary accuracy or refinement. The genius of their language 
 induced, and enabled the Romans to carry the musical arrange- 
 ment of sentences to a degree of nicety, which the nature of 
 our tongue neither requires nor admits ; their public orators 
 studied all the graces of melody with the most scrupulous soli- 
 citude, and consequently the ears of their auditors became 
 delicate and susceptible in proportion to the refinements to 
 which they had in that respect been accustomed. May we 
 not, therefore, in the more assiduous cultivation of the harmony 
 of speech among the Romans, find the cause of that superior 
 sensibility of which Blair takes notice, without examining our 
 station on the map, or conjecturing with the philosophers Du 
 Bos and Winkleman, what precise degree of latitude, taste, 
 genius, and sensibility, may be found to inhabit ? 
 
10 
 
 Insult! to think, where valour, virtue sway! 
 Where beauty sheds around her brightest ray ! 
 Where Reason boasts how Locke — how Bacon 
 shone ! 
 
 And triumphs on her philosophic throne: 40 
 Insult! to think this garden of the globe, 
 This spangle shining bright on Nature's robe ! 
 From finer joys in cold seclusion placed, 
 A torpid clime beyond the beam of taste! 
 On wings of 'fire sustained, th' immortal mind, 45 
 Nor clime controls, nor fog, nor frost can bind. 
 Where freedom, man's most cheering sunshine, glows, 
 Whether on Lybian sands, or Zemblan snows; 
 Where life exults, with each bold feeling fraught, 
 And Fancy fearless springs the mine of Thought: 50 
 There, blooms the soul, there, every muse delights, 
 Swells her full strain, and soars her highest flights: 
 Luxuriant there, from moral roots arise, 
 Pure joys which compensate inclement skies; 
 Spontaneous sweets that torrid tracts endear, 55 
 Redress the cold, and calm the raging year. 
 
11 
 
 To Albion's view what mental glories rise ! 
 Though winter rudely revels in her skies; 
 Though fogs engender there, and frosts deform 
 The agu'ish clime, an intermitting storm ; 
 The orb of genius cheers her hardy sons, 
 And bright through every sign of science runs, 
 Pervades with ripening ray each art refin'd, 
 And glows through all her atmosphere of mind. 
 
 O pride of culture I rare achiev'd, and late, 
 High-finish'd grace of an accomplished state ! 
 Ye nobler arts ! as life's last lustre given, 
 Gilding earth's grossness with the gloss of heaven 
 'Tis yours to crown complete the social plan, 
 And harmonize the elements of man ; 
 To raise in generous breasts a glow divine, 
 And polish every gem of virtue's mine. 
 As when long shut in shades, the eye of day 
 Shoots from his lids of cloud a sudden ray, 
 Swift o'er the sombre scene effulgent flies 
 The golden gleam, and skims along the skies, 
 
12 
 
 Flames up the mountain, flashes on the main, 
 Till one broad glory hursts upon the plain ; 
 Thus, lowering life the liberal arts illume, 
 Adorn its prospects, and dispel its gloom; 80 
 Chase passion's scowling tempests from the scene, 
 And o'er the mind's horizon shine serene. 
 
 By worth unaided won, we mourn no more 
 Their long- felt absence from our sunless shore; 
 In yonder pile*, by royal bounty plac'd, 85 
 The Graphic Muse maintains the throne of Taste, 
 
 * Somerset House. 
 
 Line 85. In yonder pile, &c] — They who have examined 
 with unprejudiced attention the progress of art in this country 
 from its first introduction, cannot but acknowledge the rapid 
 Strides of improvement made within the last fifty years ; and 
 particularly since the establishment of the Royal Academy. 
 The influence of this institution as a seminary of instruction, 
 and the advantages its annual exhibitions afford by promoting 
 emulation, and furnishing the student with an opportunity of 
 seeing his faults, and displaying his merits, are sufficiently 
 exemplified in the general ability apparent in every department 
 of art. Though we cannot at present boast of a Raphael, a 
 Reynolds, or a Vandyke, yet we have many eminent artists, 
 
13 
 
 Surveys again reviv'd, her ancient powers, 
 
 And smiles as genius there unfolds her flowers. 
 
 Though public favour still but feebly glows, 
 
 And no fond care th' incumber'd state bestows; 90 
 
 Surprised she views in vigorous verdure rise, 
 
 Th' exotic blooms that blessM serener skies ; 
 
 And lays exulting, as the fruits refine, 
 
 Her annual offering at the public shrine. 
 
 Disdain it not, ye critics! nor decry 95 
 
 Your country's arts, nor view with adverse eye; 
 
 whose names will be inserted with honour in the records of 
 fame ; and there is a general diffusion of respectable talents, 
 which, if urged forward by the generous stimulus of public 
 favour, cannot fail to make this country as pre-eminent in the 
 pursuits of taste as she is already distinguished in the paths of 
 science and philosophy. Excellence is always comparative, 
 and to estimate justly what we are, it is necessary to consider 
 what we have been. Under disadvantages of national neglect, 
 and public apathy, which were never before surmounted in any 
 country, the English school has grown and ripened within the 
 reign of his present Majesty to a degree of strength and ma- 
 turity, which may fairly challenge comparison with the past 
 state of art in this country, and the present state of art in every 
 other country of Europe, 
 
14 
 
 Indulgent still, the rigid brow unbend, 
 
 And e'en in censure shew that you befriend* : 
 
 Prize not the skill of foreign realms alone, 
 
 Nor think it taste to stigmatize your own ; 100 
 
 With generous bias lean to British art, 
 
 And rather wrong your judgment than your heart. 
 
 Nor deem in soft beseeching tone the Muse 
 
 From kindness courts, what candour might refuse ; 
 
 No, from her soul, though rising to her eye, 105 
 
 What times remote, and realms around supply, 
 
 She hails with honest pride her country's claim, 
 
 And calls on taste to ratify her fame. 
 
 Yet while exulting o'er each bold essay 
 Of British genius brightening into day, 110 
 In fond remembrance flows the grateful tear, 
 To think what stars have fallen from our sphere. 
 Lo ! pensive leaning o'er th' illumin'd page, 
 Where History meditates the madd'ning age, 
 
 * At, pater ut gnati, sic nos debemus, amici 
 
 Si quod sit vitium, non fastidire. Horace, Sat, L 
 
15 
 
 | And mourns her Mortimer: while, kind too late, 1 15 
 Relenting Fortune weeps o'er Wilson's fate ; 
 
 Line 115. And mourns her Mortimer, &c] — The talents of 
 Mortimer were prominent in his day, and generally directed 
 to the higher objects of his art. King John signing Magna 
 Charta, and the Battle of Agincourt, of which there are well- 
 known prints, afford no mean specimens of his strength in 
 history, of his conception of character, and his powers of com- 
 position. His mind seemed to partake in a great degree of 
 that Romantic cast of thought so conspicuous in Salvator Rosa. 
 He delighted to represent Banditti under all the circumstances 
 which the mode of life pursued by these picturesque plunderers 
 naturally suggests to a fertile imagination. But though he 
 could exhibit the robber with success, he wanted the powers 
 of Salvator, to place him in an appropriate scene. He was 
 inadequate to express that wild grandeur of solitude, that sa- 
 vage sublimity of nature, where the ferocious and half-armed 
 freebooter appears to be the characteristic inhabitant. 
 
 The works of Mortimer in general shew considerable skill 
 in anatomy, and a well-grounded knowledge of the human 
 figure in all its varieties of action and repose. He drew with 
 great facility, particularly with the pen, which he used in a 
 style of uncommon spirit and effect: his sketches with this 
 instrument may be classed among the happiest of his produc- 
 tions. His forms are sometimes incorrect, but seldom vulgar : 
 and though his characters are occasionally overcharged and 
 exaggerated, they rarely fail to be appropriate and expressive. • 
 In the other parts of his art the merits of Mortimer are not 
 
16 
 
 Remorseful owns her blindness, and to fame 
 Consigns with sorrow his illustrious name* 
 
 equally conspicuous. His finished works retain but little of 
 that vigour and spirit of execution which characterize his 
 sketches. His oil pencil is tame and laboured; his colouring 
 betrays no great sensibility to the beauties of tone; and his 
 effects, little scientific arrangement of light and shade. On 
 the whole, however, his powers appear to have been of a su- 
 perior class ; and such as, under better regulation, might have 
 raised him to the highest rank of competition. His productions 
 were few and irregular ; they were flashes of intellect, which, 
 while they dazzled by their own light, strongly impressed us 
 with the brilliancy of that fire from which they proceeded. 
 
 Line 116. Relenting Fortune weeps (Per Wilson's fate.~] — The 
 name of this extraordinary man is a reproach to the age in 
 which he lived : the most accomplished landscape-painter this 
 country ever produced ; uniting the composition of Claude with 
 the execution of Poussin ; avoiding the minuteness of the one, 
 and rivalling the spirit of the other. With powers which ought 
 to have raised him to the highest fame, and recommended him 
 to the most prosperous fortune, Wilson was suffered to live 
 embarrassed, and to die poor*. Conscious of his claims, how- 
 ever, he bore the neglect he experienced with firmness and 
 dignity ; and though he had the mortification to see very infe- 
 
 * So much did the " res angustae domi" oppress the latter years of poor 
 Wilson, that the place of librarian to the Royal Academy, the whole emo- 
 lument of which amounts but to fifty pounds per year, was conferred upon 
 him to enable him to eke out a mere subsistence! .»! 
 
17 
 
 Hogarth! with thee! satiric Humour fled, 
 Proclaims our graphic moralist is dead : 120 
 
 rior talents preferred in the estimation of the public, yet, he 
 was never seduced to depart from his own style of painting, or 
 to adopt the more fashionable and imposing qualities of art 
 which his superior judgment taught him to condemn, and which 
 the example of his works ought to have exposed and suppressed. 
 But the merits of Wilson are now found out, though unhappily 
 too late for him to benefit by the discovery ; and the authentic 
 productions of his hand are purchased at all fashionable sales, 
 with an avidity that procures for the picture-dealer the 
 affluence which was denied to the painter. How often has the 
 liberal mind occasion to lament that perverseness of taste, which 
 refuses to be pleased with the efforts of genius while the pleasure 
 can be reciprocal ! which affects apathy and indifference to all 
 living merit, and disdains to bestow either praise or profit, till 
 the one can be no longer heard, and the other no longer useful. 
 " Cineri gloria sera venit.' , — Martial. 
 
 Line 119. Hogarth, with thee! &c] — Hogarth has confer- 
 red that kind of obligation upon his country, which peculiarly 
 entitles him to her regard and gratitude. Civilized nations 
 have ever eagerly contended for the honour of originality in arts 
 and sciences; and have considered as their most conspicuous 
 ornaments, those extraordinary characters, who, starting from 
 the common herd of mankind, seem born to explore new re- 
 gions, and discover new springs of instruction and amusement. 
 Among the few who come under this description, Hogarth 
 has every claim to be numbered: his genius appears to be as 
 
 c 
 
18 
 
 Who Sampson-like, in conscious might secure, 
 Burst the strong bonds that meaner minds endure ; 
 
 peculiarly original, his fire to be as much kindled from within, 
 as that of any other painter, of any other age or nation. 
 From his outset he disdained to travel in the high roads of 
 art, or to avail himself of those directing posts set up by his 
 predecessors: he treads in no man's steps, moves within no 
 prescribed limits, and adopts no established combinations : he 
 has, perhaps, less of common-place than any other artist ; less 
 of loose material ; less dead matter. His subjects, his arrange- 
 ment, his characters, his style, his manner, are all his own, de- 
 rived immediately from Nature; drawn pure from the fountain 
 without passing through those ducts and channels of intermedi- 
 ate communication, which always tinge the stream, and betray 
 the soil through which it flows. His path of art was before him 
 unopened, and it appears to have closed after him. But while 
 his works remain to be consulted, Britain may confidently 
 boast of having produced one of those distinguished spirits, 
 those daring navigators of the intellectual ocean, who launch 
 boldly forth in quest of new discoveries, and bring home unex- 
 pected treasures from territories before unknown. 
 
 Yet notwithstanding the reputation which Hogarth, during 
 the latter part of his life enjoyed, he had much reason to com- 
 plain of that coldness and neglect, which so frequently depress 
 the vigour of genius, and disgrace the sensibility of ta te. 
 Poets and painters are, generally speaking, estimated with 
 little justice while they live ; they may be said to stand in their 
 own light ; to intercept, as it were, the eye of the critic, who 
 cannot discover the merits of their works till the authors are 
 
19 
 
 DisdainM the beaten track, the common crown, 
 And forced an untried passage to renown. 
 
 removed from his view. " Le terns," says a French writer of 
 the Lives of the Painters, " qui est Parbitre de la reputation 
 des artistes, ne peut en augmenter la valeur, qu'apres avoir 
 soumis a sa puissance, celui qui en est Pobjet: dans la peinture 
 plus qu'en tout autre genre, on est, pendant sa vie, son propre 
 rival." 
 
 The Marriage a-la-Mode, that celebrated series of pictures 
 now in the collection of Mr. Angerstein, affords a striking in- 
 stance of the supercilious indifference with which the connois- 
 seur too often allows himself to regard the happiest productions 
 of his day. Although a work possessing the most valuable 
 qualities of art; as moral in design, as masterly in execution; 
 striking Vice irresistibly in her strong holds of fashionable dis- 
 sipation, and compressing the experience of a life to a compen- 
 dium of instructive example, the Marriage a-la-Mode found no 
 purchaser amongst its admirers, and Hogarth was reduced to 
 the mortifying necessity of attempting to procure by a raffle 
 that reward for his labours, which the generosity if not the 
 justice of taste ought to have conferred upon him. 
 
 But even this expedient failed of success ; the prize was not 
 sufficiently attractive to excite the spirit of adventure, and for a 
 sum too contemptible to be named, a Mr. Lane, whose taste in 
 this instance was amply rewarded by his good fortune, became 
 the proprietor of a work which merits to be considered an orna- 
 ment to the noblest collection. 
 
 Though as the dramatist of art, as a satirist exposing by 
 
20 
 
 To nature true his sportive pencil mov'd, 125 
 
 Taught while it trifled, pleasM while it reprovM : 
 
 Struck by the harlot's woes, with shame oppressed, 
 
 Reviving virtue wins the wanton breast ; 
 
 No more the midnight scene to riot warms, 
 
 The rake reviews his progress, and reforms. 130 
 
 The cottage group their Gainsborough bemoan, 
 And with the Muses' sorrows mix their own : 
 
 his pencil the vices of his time, Hogarth may be said to have 
 left behind him no legitimate successor ; yet in the display of 
 broader character and lighter humour, his place has been ably 
 supplied by an artist now living, and it is to be hoped, likely 
 long to remain amongst us. With talents distinguished in the 
 higher sphere of art, Mr. Smirke has on various occasions, 
 displayed such proofs of comic ability as entitle him to the 
 praise of original humour ; and his illustrations of the Arabian 
 Nights Entertainments shew a picturesque fancy, a power of 
 characteristic expression, which rank him among the ablest 
 artists of his age. 
 
 Line 131. The cottage group their Gainsborough bemoan.~\ — 
 This excellent artist, (whose pastoral subjects, and peculiar 
 representations of rural scenery, raise him to a competition with 
 Murillio and Hobbima,) is said in some of his walks about the 
 neighbourhood of London to have been particularly struck 
 
21 
 
 Sad o'er his grave, regardless of the storm, 
 
 The weeping Woodman bends his toil-worn form; 
 
 His dog half-conscious hears his master mourn, 135 
 
 Looks in his furrowM face, and whines forlorn. 
 
 There too, Lavinia her swelPd heart relieves 
 
 In grateful tears, and for her patron grieves ; 
 
 His model now no more — no more to share 
 
 The picture's triumph, or the painter's care. 1 40 
 
 But lo! where Reynolds lies, without a stone 
 To mark his grave, or make his relics known; 
 No pomps of death the pious eye engage, 
 No trophies testify a grateful age ; 
 
 with the family of a cottager, from which he was supplied with 
 some of his most picturesque models of children ; and to which 
 he, during the remainder of his life, shewed much kindness 
 and protection. 
 
 In his Lavinia, the Girl and Pigs, Children by a Cottage 
 Fire, &c. there are characters of affecting simplicity and rural 
 beauty, which nature only could have supplied, and taste and 
 sensibility selected. 
 
 Line 154. The weeping Woodman, &c] — The picture of the 
 Woodman and his Dog in a Storm, is equally known and ad- 
 mired. 
 
No sculptured lays of love memorial flow, 145 
 To indicate the hallow'd dust below : 
 But he, whose genius rais'd his country's name, 
 Refin'd her taste, and Jed her arts to fame ; 
 Whose powers unrivall'd Envy's self disarm'd, 
 Whose pen instructed, and whose pencil charm'd ; 150 
 He summon'd hence, submits to nature's doom, 
 And sleeps unhonour'd in a nameless tomb. 
 Yet nobler trophies soothe his hovering shade, 
 Than e'er sepulchral pageantry display 'd : 
 
 Line 154. Than e'er sepulchral, &c] — Surely, no character 
 in society can have stronger claims to all the honours of the 
 sepulchre, than he whose taste has contributed to render them 
 creditable to the present age, and interesting to posterity. 
 While grateful to the valour that defends us, ought we to neg- 
 lect the virtue that improves, and the genius that exalts us ? 
 Can he be more reasonably said to die in the service of his 
 country, who lays down his life in the field, than he who ex- 
 hausts it in the pursuits of science, or devotes it to the interests 
 of morality ? The subalterns in arts, as well as in arms, must 
 doubtless be content to pass away unhonoured and unknown, 
 but the distinguished leaders in each pursuit have equal claims 
 to immortality; and while the soldier, and the sailor, are 
 commemorated with all the zeal of public gratitude, the sage, 
 the bard, and the artist, should not be forgotten. 
 
 But it is the pride and boast of genius to confer immortality 
 
23 
 
 Genius, like Egypt's monarchs timely wise, 155 
 Constructs his own memorial e'er he dies ; 
 Leaves his best image in his works enshrin'd, 
 And makes a mausoleum of mankind. 
 
 Hail, star of art, by whose instinctive ray, 
 Our boreal lights were kindled into day; 160 
 Reynolds! where'er thy radiant spirit flies, 
 By seraphs welcom'd 'midst acclaiming skies; 
 Whether by friendship fondly led to rove, 
 With Learning's sons, in some elysian grove, 
 Where moral Johnson, bright in all her beams, 16'5 
 To list'ning angels treats celestial themes; 
 Or join'd by him, the sage whose reverend form 
 Was seen amidst the tumult of the storm, 
 
 rather than to receive it. Maeonia is known by her poet; 
 Urbino by her painter; and Britain will derive honour and 
 consequence from the name and genius of Reynolds, when many 
 of those to whose deserts she has been more munificent will be 
 remembered only in their monuments. 
 
 Line 167. Or join'd by him, &c] — Alluding to the* intimate 
 friendship which subsisted for many years between Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds. Dr. Johnson, and Edmund Burke, the three great 
 
24 
 
 High waving Wisdom's sacred flag unfurl'd, 
 
 In awful warning to a frantic world, 170 
 
 Prophetic Burke! thou share the patriot glow, 
 
 To mark Britannia's bright career below, 
 
 To see her time-built throne unshaken stand, 
 
 And law, and order triumph through the land. 
 
 Whether on Titian's golden pinion borne, 175 
 
 Bath'd in the bloom of heaven's immortal morn, 
 
 Thou sunward take thy sympathetic flight, 
 
 To sport amidst the progeny of light; 
 
 Or rapt to thy lov'd Buonaroti's car, 
 
 'Midst epic glories flaming from afar, 180 
 
 luminaries of their age in literature, politics, and art ; and to 
 each of whom we may with more than ordinary propriety apply 
 the lines of Virgil : 
 
 " Dum juga montis aper, fhrvios dum piscis amabit, 
 Dumque thymo pascentur apes, dum rore cicadas 
 Semper honos, nomenque tuum laudesque manebunt*." 
 
 * The author understands, that, despairing of any national or public tri- 
 bute to the memory of Reynolds, his relatives have determined to procure 
 the erection of a monument at their own expense. 
 
 Mr. Flaxman is said to be the sculptor appointed ; and from that able ar- 
 tist something may be expected worthy of his subject, and suitable to his 
 reputation. 
 
25 
 
 With him, in awful frenzy fir'd to rove 
 
 The regions of sublimity above, 
 
 Seize Grandeur's form, astride the lightning's blast, 
 
 On death's dark verge, or danger's summit cast. 
 
 Immortal spirit! lo! her virgin lays, 185 
 
 The muse to thee an humble tribute pays; 
 
 A muse unknown, unequal to aspire, 
 
 A truant from the pencil to the lyre ; 
 
 Alternate cool'd, and kindled to a blaze, 
 
 As fear, or fancy, whisper blame or praise; 190 
 
 Who, though she oft has mark'd w r ith moral aim, 
 
 The harpies hovering o'er the feast of Fame; 
 
 Has heard, in hollow sounds with awe impress'd, 
 
 The nightmare moanings of Ambition's breast; 
 
 Yet touch'd to rapture oft, her thrilling soul 195 
 
 Through all its chords, aspiring thoughts control ; 
 
 And, fondly musing o'er what time may crown, 
 
 She feeds wild hopes in visions of renown. 
 
 No rhyming parasite of travell'd pride, 
 She courts no coxcomb from the Tyber's side, 200 
 
26 
 
 Suborns no pedant from the critic throng, 
 
 No mock Maecenas supplicates in song ; 
 
 From all that meanness courts, that pride reveres, 
 
 She asks no sanction, and no censure fears; 
 
 Or sink, or soar, on her own strength relies, 205 
 
 And scorns the flatterer's passport to the skies. 
 
 But lend a ray of thy peculiar light, 
 
 Guide of her art, and guardian of her flight ! 
 
 Through Nature's paths conduct her doubtful way, 
 
 Nor let a thought unworthy stain the lay. 210 
 
 Of all th' adventurous spirits who disdain 
 To plod in dull content life's level plain, 
 The painter onl}% with the poet dares 
 An equal flight, and combats equal cares ; 
 Alike aloft, their arduous progress lies, 215 
 O'er shoreless seas, amid unsheltered skies; 
 Where, dread expanse! fierce driving-tempests blow, • 
 And only genius shuns the gulf below : 
 Where fools half fluttering and half floating still, 
 Who flounder on against Apollo's will, 220 
 
27 
 
 Become the general jest, the vulgar game, 
 And sink at last beneath a weight of shame. 
 
 Who boldly then the common track depart, 
 Toil after fame, and take the paths of art; 
 Ye finer souls ! in Fancy's eye who see 225 
 Whate'er young hopes, and sanguine hearts decree; 
 While yet unspelPd, unplighted you remain, 
 Pause, ere you join the art-enamour'd train ; 
 
 Line 228. Pause, ere you join, &c] — The choice of a pro- 
 fession is always a subject of serious consideration. To fix on 
 the path in which we are to travel through life, which is to lead 
 us to fame, to fortune, and to happiness, is a decision we are 
 called upon to make at the outset of our career, though de- 
 manding a degree of judgment and experience seldom attained 
 before the end of it. The wisdom of our parents may indeed 
 assist us to select one of the many avocations, in which in- 
 dustry, prudence, and plain sense only are required : whether 
 a youth shall be made a farmer or a mechanic, a merchant or 
 a manufacturer, may be easily determined by motives of mere 
 convenience, without any scrupulous investigation of his powers, 
 or attention to his propensities. Common qualities are suf- 
 ficient for such employments; they may descend, as they do in 
 China, from father to son, through different generations, with- 
 out any danger to the necessary stock of ability. But with 
 respect to the professions which are connected with genius and 
 
28 
 
 Consult your powers, the fancied passion prove, 
 Nor transient liking take, for lasting love; 230 
 
 taste, the case is different : in these, interest and inclination 
 rarely coincide; our parents are seldom competent to assist 
 our choice ; for, generally speaking, they are either ignorant of 
 the qualities required to excel, or so prejudiced as to suppose 
 we possess them. Left, therefore, to our own guidance, and 
 actuated by what is commonly considered the impulse of na- 
 ture, we should anxiously endeavour to ascertain the precise 
 direction in which that impulse may most effectually operate > 
 for if we mistake or misapply our powers, the error is irre- 
 trievable, and the consequence fatal. Adventurers in poetry 
 and painting are a kind of intellectual desperadoes ; they may 
 be said to go on the forlorn hope of life, from which few are 
 found to escape with safety or reputation. How necessary, 
 therefore, to deliberate, before we proceed in so hazardous an 
 expedition ! before we embark on a service, in which failure is 
 not only disappointment, but disgrace ; at once condemning us 
 to poverty, and exposing us to contempt. 
 
 " Of all vain fools with coxcomb talents curs'd, 
 Bad poets and bad painters are the worst." 
 
 Yet how shall we distinguish between genius and inclination ? 
 With what line shall we sound our capacity, so as to discover 
 the depth of its powers, and find out the proper channel in 
 which they should be directed ? Whether we are inspired by 
 genius, or possessed by vanity, is to be ascertained by a long 
 and painful process only, and unhappily the prime of life is lost 
 in the experiment. 
 
29 
 
 The nymph once wedded, you repent too late, 
 To change your fortune, or to check your fate; 
 
 In the arts, the most flattering indications of talent are often 
 found to be fallacious ; gleams of ability frequently brighten 
 the first years of study, which afterwards prove to have been 
 false lights, tending only to render the subsequent darkness 
 more conspicuous. There is a kind of superficial ingenuity, 
 well calculated to take the lead in drawing-schools and acade- 
 mies, which, assuming all the airs of genius, often passes for 
 that quality amongst inaccurate observers: but this glittering 
 tinsel kind of talent rarely attains to eminence ; it belongs more 
 to the hand than the head, and most commonly ends in a ma- 
 nufacture of mannered insipidity and unfeeling mechanism. 
 
 But if it be thus difficult for the student to estimate with ac- 
 curacy the extent of his abilities for the fine arts, it is doubly 
 incumbent on him, at least to ascertain the strength of his at- 
 tachment to them ; let him beware lest, as the text observes, 
 
 " He transient liking take for lasting love:" 
 
 lest his disposition to painting should prove but the fickle 
 avidity of a child, who this moment seizes his plaything with 
 rapture, and the next throws it from him with disgust. 
 
 Enthusiasm, though not always a sign of genius, is always 
 essential to excellence; nothing great or elevated in poetry 
 or painting was ever produced without it : it is the only quality 
 which can enable the mind to surmount the obstructions of dif- 
 ficulty, and support the pressure of disappointment. A strong 
 love for the art is always good security for a steady application 
 to it , and without steady unremitting application, the best 
 
so 
 
 When time shall tinge her beauties in your sight, 
 And all seem labour which was once delight; 
 From hope's fond dreams unwillingly awake, 235 
 When slow conviction whispers your mistake; 
 Then shall you wish some less adventurous aim 
 Had fix'd you safe below the cares of fame ; 
 
 opportunities are lost, and the best abilities unavailing. The. 
 young votary of art should, therefore, look into his own mind with 
 attention, and examine its dispositions ; he should contemplate 
 the profession he is about to adopt, not only in its pleasures 
 but in its pains; in its defeats as well as its successes. Let 
 him reflect, that what has hitherto captivated him, as the 
 amusement of his leisure, must now become the serious occu- 
 pation of his life, losing (like all serious occupations) much of 
 its agreeable character in the obligation by which he is bound 
 to it: demanding an attention undivided, a patience inex- 
 haustible, and a perseverance steady and energetic, under 
 every change of humours, seasons, and situations. If, on this 
 candid examination, he finds not in his breast a passion for the 
 art tjjat rises superior to remonstrance, that cannot calculate 
 consequences, or compromise with prudence ; if he can balance 
 advantages, if he can doubt or hesitate, let him be assured that 
 his call is not genuine : let him lay aside his pencil, and forbear 
 to toil in a pursuit for which he wants the most essential quali - 
 fication : which can tend only to unfit him for common enjoy- 
 ments, and expose him to all the misery of disappointed hopes 
 and mortified pretensions. 
 
31 
 
 To some obscure mechanic toil had svvay'd*, 
 
 Or left you humbly diligent in trade ; 240 
 
 While foiPd ambition weeps his wasted prime, 
 
 And disappointment drags the load of time. 
 
 To gain th* immortal wreath of art requires 
 
 Whatever of worth, or Muse, or Grace inspires ; 
 
 Whatever man, of heav'n, or earth, obtains, 245 
 
 Through mental toil, or mere mechanic pains ; 
 
 A constant heart, by Nature's charms impress'd, 
 
 An ardour ever burning in the breast ; 
 
 A zeal for truth, a power of thought intense ; 
 
 A fancy, flowering on the stems of sense ; 250 
 
 A mem'ry, as the grave retentive, vast, 
 
 That holds to rise again, th' imprisoned past ; 
 
 A feeling strong, instinctive, active, chaste; 
 
 The thrilling electricity of taste ; 
 
 That marks the muse on each resplendent part, 255 
 
 The seal of nature, on the acts of art; 
 
 * " Soyez plutot ma^on, si c'est votre talent 
 Ouvrier estime dans une art necessaire 
 Qu'ecrivain du commun et poete vulgaire." 
 
 BOILEAU. 
 
32 
 
 An eye, to bards alone and painters given, 
 
 A frenzied orb, reflecting earth and heaven ; 
 
 Commanding all creation at a glance, 
 
 And ranging Possibility's expanse ; 260 
 
 A hand, with more than magic skill endow'd, 
 
 To trace Invention's visions as they crowd ; 
 
 Embody thoughts beyond the poet's skill, 
 
 And pour the eloquence of art at will ; 
 
 'Bove all, a dauntless soul to persevere, 265 
 
 Though mountains rise, though Alps on Alps appear; 
 
 Though Poverty present her meagre form, 
 
 Though patrons fail, and Fortune frown a storm. 
 
 O ! rare assemblage ! rich amount of mind ! 
 Collective light of intellect renVd ! 270 
 Scarce once an age from Nature's niggard hands 
 Bestow'd on man, yet such the muse demands ; 
 Such, where'er found, let grateful states hold dear, 
 Reward them wisdom, wealth and rank revere. 
 
 Line 274. Reward them wisdom, wealth and rank revere.~\ — 
 Great talents, when directed to improve and adorn society, 
 can never be too highly esteemed, nor too conspicuously dis- 
 
33 
 
 Alas! how many cast of meaner mold, 275 
 Life's common clods, we every day behold, 
 In evil moment to the Muse aspire, 
 Degrade the pencil, and abuse the lyre; 
 
 tinguished. Men of genius are seldom mercenary: as the 
 qualities which characterize them are above all price, so money 
 alone, however necessary to their wants, can never be consi- 
 dered the adequate reward of their exertions. 
 
 They require and deserve a nobler recompense ; the homage 
 of wisdom and virtue ; the respect of their own times, and the 
 regard of posterity. 
 
 There is no other description of subjects, from which a state 
 can derive so much reputation, at so little expence. They are 
 the pillars of its present dignity, and the foundations of its fu- 
 ture fame. The acts of heroes live only in the enterprizes of 
 mind, and Caesar's pen has done more to immortalize him than 
 his sword. 
 
 Men of genius are luminous points on the great disk of soci- 
 ety, which shine even after the sun of power and prosperity 
 has withdrawn its beams, and rescue the nations they adorn, 
 from total darkness in the long eclipse of time. 
 
 Commerce may make a people rich, and power may render 
 them formidable : in the one case, they excite envy without 
 admiration, in the other, fear without respect. But exploits 
 of intellect only, can secure that genuine estimation, that 
 grateful homage of the heart, which it is almost as honourable 
 to pay as to receive. The powers of genius consecrate the 
 claims of greatness, invest wealth with dignity, and add vene- 
 ration to submission. 
 
 D 
 
34 
 
 Persisting toil, by no one talent grac'd, 
 
 And rot like fungi on the field of Taste. 280 
 
 What plumeless bards as poetasters pine ! 
 
 What dolts in atrophy of art decline ! 
 
 Provoke the fate that humbler fools escape, 
 
 And crawl contemn'd in every graphic shape*! 
 
 But chief, all you whom vulgar thirst of gain 285 
 
 Degrading sways, the graphic fount refrain ; 
 
 Th' insulted spring dries up as Avarice sips, 
 
 Or turns to poison on his tainted lips ; 
 
 Each muse, the mercenary suitor spurns, 
 
 Nor fires the breast, but where ambition burns. 290 
 
 Ye venal herd! to Plutus* fane repair, 
 
 And breathe your souls in sordid incense there; 
 
 * The former editions of this work contained some lines in 
 this place, which, the author understands, were thought to 
 convey a contemptuous observation on a class of artists, 
 whose claims to public estimation he is by no means inclined 
 either to deny or depreciate. He does not hesitate, therefore, 
 to omit the expressions alluded to; for, however he may 
 consider the objections to them unfounded, he cannot for a 
 moment (were the passage much more important) put it in 
 competition with the feelings of any respectable member of his 
 profession. 
 
35 
 
 Pay court to power, or sooth inflated pride, 
 And fortune bears you buoyant on her tide: 
 But search of wealth is here a vain pursuit, 295 
 The groves of taste produce no golden fruit ; 
 They sprout in palms alone, or bloom in bays, 
 O'erpaid the culture, when the crop is praise. 
 
 Nor yet too sanguine, fondly deem that fame 
 Awaits to crown your triumphs, and proclaim ; 300 
 That honour still on excellence attends, 
 And praise in clouds at Merit's shrine ascends: 
 Foes pleas'd to crush coeval worth combine, 
 And censure circulates, the critic's coin ; 
 The modern's claim, fastidious taste denies, 305 
 Or, while he lives, reluctant grants the prize *. 
 Fame lurks behind, till Merit's death delay'd, 
 And having lost the substance — crowns the shade. 
 
 * Thus, Martial : 
 
 " Miraris veteres, Vacerra solos 
 Nee laudes nisi mortuos poet as. 11 
 
 D 2 
 
36 
 
 What time on Arno's silver tide enthron'd, 
 Her sceptred sway exulting Commerce own'd; 310 
 Exhausted climes to grace her fav'rite's seat*, 
 And pour'd the wealth of empires at his feet: 
 When, phoenix-like, (triumphant o'er their foes,) 
 The arts from their own mouldering ruins rose, 
 Reviving Science felt Protection's hand, 315 
 And Leo finished, what Lorenzo planned ; 
 Then, due regard the Muses' offspring foundf, 
 Then, public wreaths exalted Genius crown'd: 
 Sagacious power his path with roses strew'd, * 
 And praise, and honour, all his steps pursu'd ; 320 
 Their best ambition, and their fairest fame, 
 Princes were proud to boast the patron's name; 
 
 * Lorenzo de Medici. 
 
 f " Tunc par ingenio pretium ; tunc utile multis 
 Pallere, et vinum toto nescire Decembri." 
 
 JUVENAL. 
 
 Line 322. Princes were proud, &c] — Roscoe, in his justly 
 esteemed Life of Lorenzo de Medici, makes the following ob- 
 servation: " In affording protection to the arts of architecture, 
 
37 
 
 Creative art earth's admiration rais'd, 
 And grateful nations gloried as they gaz'd. 
 
 painting, and sculpture, which then began to revive in Italy ; 
 Cosmo set the great example to those, who, by their rank and 
 their riches, could alone afford them effectual aid. The coun- 
 tenance shewn by him to those arts was not of that kind which 
 their professors generally experience from the great; it was 
 not conceded as a bounty, nor received as a favour, but appear- 
 ed in the friendship and equality that subsisted between the 
 artist and his patron." 
 
 In the Inquiry* concerning the real and imaginary Causes 
 which have obstructed the Advancement of the Fine Arts in 
 this country, Barry (among other circumstances, highly fa- 
 vourable to the rise of art in Italy during the fifteenth and six- 
 teenth centuries) has noticed the superior estimation in which 
 artists were then held; and the beneficial effects produced by 
 the taste of those times having kept such even pace with the 
 talents which adorned them, as constantly to supply to the 
 powers of genius the necessary stimulus of admiration. 
 
 The disadvantages which attend the modern artist are indeed 
 sufficiently obvious : he is exposed to a contrast of the most in- 
 vidious kind; he is a pigmy who offers himself to be measured 
 with those whose real grandeur is magnified through the mist 
 of antiquity; whom the tradition of taste has established as 
 giants. 
 
 He finds the affections of the connoisseur already pre-occu- 
 p : ed, who considers the new claimant on his kindness, as dis- 
 
 * The substance quoted from memory. 
 
38 
 
 Lorenzo hail! in whom united blend 325 
 Thy country's pride, usurper, foe, and friend ! 
 
 turbing the repose of his judgment; as one whose pretensions 
 are to be examined with rigour, if not repelled with disdain. 
 
 In the happier days of art, a very different feeling prevailed 
 towards the artist and his works ; a feeling which resulted from 
 the sympathy and correspondence then existing between the 
 refinement of taste and the powers of performance ; a feeling 
 which operated at once as an incentive, and a reward ; which 
 called forth all the vigour of genius, and was the cause, rather 
 than the consequence, of that excellence which succeeding 
 times have endeavoured to rival in vain. A fastidious age is a 
 frost to the flowers of fancy ; they droop and wither in the cold 
 air of criticism. When the sense of natural sweets is superseded 
 by the false relish of affectation, and the man of taste dege- 
 nerates to an epicure, the terrors of criticism disturb the en- 
 thusiasm of genius: the artist becomes more solicitous to 
 avoid defects than to create beauties, and presents himself at 
 the public tribunal with the apprehensions of a culprit for trial, 
 rather than the hopes of a candidate for approbation. 
 
 The offspring of Taste are delicate children, that never 
 thrive when they are treated roughly: they require to be at- 
 tended with care, and caressed with kindness. The man of 
 genius, like the humourist, rarely exhibits his powers with effect, 
 but when he thinks they will be well received. 
 
 The connoscenti of " Leo's golden days" had (compara- 
 tively speaking) but little means of displaying their taste, 
 except in the sensibility with which they regarded the talent s 
 of their time, and the liberality with which they rewarded 
 
39 
 
 Lo ! what new honours crowd around thy name, 
 In Roscoe's page recalPd again to fame ! 
 
 them. The virtuoso, indeed, might have employed his leisure 
 and his wealth in the collection of manuscripts and antiques, 
 medals and coins ; but with respect to painting, the connoisseur 
 of the sixteenth century neither possessed nor affected tv. assess 
 a degree of judgment superior to the merits of his contempora- 
 ries, or which might be thought to warrant him in the indul- 
 gence of critical disdain, or supercilious indifference. There 
 were then but few tenants in possession on the estate of Taste ; 
 few old masters to gratify the splenetic admiration of the " lau- 
 datores temporis acti few old pictures to draw on time for re- 
 putation, and no picture-dealers to negotiate the bills. The 
 temple, the palace, and the cabinet were to be adorned by the 
 labours of the living artist ; he put forth his powers unchecked 
 by despondency, unchilled by neglect, as secure if he failed of 
 pardon and respect, as of glory and gratitude it he succeeded. 
 
 But perhaps it may be said, that the disadvantages above 
 mentioned, as attached to the modern artist, are not peculiar to 
 him; that whatever prejudices prevail to the detriment of 
 living talent, the painter has no more reason to complain of 
 them than the poet, the historian, and others, who are subject 
 to their influence. That the evils resulting from affectation, 
 pedantry, and false taste, are not confined to painting and 
 sculpture, is indeed most true: what Johnson calls " the gene- 
 ral conspiracy of human nature against contemporary merit," 
 operates in every department of genius; but the fine arts feel 
 the effects of it at the present moment, with peculiar severity. 
 
40 
 
 Though reason prompts to check th' applausive lay, s 
 That sounds the triumphs of despotic sway, 330 ' 
 
 Literature, since the invention of printing, may be said to be in 
 a great measure independent of particular patronage ; the press 
 has opened for it a market too extensive to be much affected 
 by critical intolerance, and the public judgment, more matured 
 in books than in pictures, will not now easily submit to be re- 
 tained in the leading-strings of authority. Though the fastidi- 
 ous arrogance of a few may disdain a modern production, for 
 no other reason, than because it is modern ; yet the suffrages of 
 the many, not to be influenced by such a consideration, will al- 
 ways be obtained by those who possess the powers of amusement 
 or instruction. If an author is read, he may be said to receive 
 half his reward, and the incense of popularity will always revive 
 him, when sinking under the censure of pedantry or prejudice. 
 But the artist of the present day, has no resource against the 
 bigotry of taste : his profit is as much dependant on the connois- 
 seur as his fame ; for his market is almost exclusively confined 
 to those, who consider it a proof of superior refinement to con- 
 temn what he offers to their acceptance. Amongst the ancients, 
 indeed, literature and the arts, with respect to patronage and 
 encouragement, approached nearer to an equality. Literature 
 was then an expensive luxury, necessarily confined to the few 
 whose wealth enabled them to indulge their curiosity. A col- 
 lection of books, like a gallery of pictures, was the posses- 
 sion of a prince, the appendage of opulence and splendour. The 
 manuscript of the poet or historian, was to be purchased at a 
 price which few were able, and fewer still would have been wil- 
 
41 
 
 And sad experience shews in colours clear, 
 That, bought with freedom, e'en refinement's dear. 
 Their brightest beams while taste and science shed, 
 And glow in grateful radiance round thy head, 
 The dazzled Muse her Cato's cause resigns, 335 
 Nor sees a Caesar — where Mecaenas shines. 
 
 But no, though dear, most dear the joys of art, 
 The Muse too, shrin'd " within my heart of heart/' 
 Though throbbing there, their mingled raptures 
 warm, 
 
 My life's employment, and my leisure's charm; 340 
 
 ling to pay, if it had been the prevalent practice of criticism to 
 decry the value of the work, or discredit the talents of the au- 
 thor. Now his pictures, and his statues, are (if it may be so 
 expressed) the manuscripts of the modern artist. He cannot 
 dispose of them at a price within the means of the multitude, 
 nor multiply copies by mechanical process ; bis hopes, therefore, 
 both of fame and fortune, rest entirely on the great and rich, 
 who unfortunately seem at present but little disposed to foster 
 his exertions, and appear to have lost all relish for the fruits of 
 native genius, in an ungenerous, often unjust, and always an 
 unpatriotic preference for the production of other times, and 
 other countries, 
 
42 
 
 My soul's first choice, my fancy's early flame; 
 
 My chance of fortune, and my hopes of fame ; 
 
 No, not e'en these should bribe the patriot strain, 
 
 To shed false lustre round ambition's reign; 
 
 Or wreath his brow (howe'erhis country grac'd), 
 
 Who sapp'd her freedom, while he sav'd her taste. 
 
 No, not for these, though else denied their charms, 
 
 Shut from the pure elysium of their arms, 
 
 Would I, my country, see in evil hour, 
 
 Thy freeborn sons the sycophants of power ; 350 
 
 See the rough virtues of thy clime replaced 
 
 By smooth servility, with polish'd taste; 
 
 Thy blunt bold spirit, now that fires the brave, 
 
 Sink in the state, and languish in the slave ; 
 
 The man unnerv'd — in silken bonds suppress'd, 355 
 
 And life a listless, lacker'd gloom at best. 
 
 Shall it be said? while time attesting shews 
 
 What shining lights despotic skies disclose ; 
 
 Shall it be said? where power gigantic awes, 
 
 And rides rude will unbridled through the laws; 360 
 
 Where life hard breathing heaves the general breast, 
 
 In apprehension's asthma sore oppress'd : 
 
43 
 
 Shall it be said ? that there the nobler arts, 
 That calm our passions and reclaim our hearts, 
 Felt, foster'd, lov'd, their highest honours find ; 365 
 Ambition's best atonement to mankind ! 
 
 What though ! in Greece, when Amnion's glory 
 sway'd, 
 
 When prostrate Rome Augustus' power obey'd, 
 In latter days, when Leo's lustre shone, 
 And gorgeous Louis grac'd the Gallic throne ; 370 
 What though ! like rockets from the hand of time, 
 Through life's long gloom, shot sparkling and sublime, 
 These meteor ages of mankind were given, 
 To mark with cluster'd stars the mental heaven, 
 And pour their blaze on earth's astcnisli'd view, 375 
 When Freedom's cloud-encompass'd orb withdrew! 
 
 Line 376. When Freedom's rI.oud-encomprrss' > d o?b withdrew /] — 
 Voltaire,in his Age of Louis XIV. has selected four different periods 
 of history, as particularly entitled to be considered the most en- 
 lightened ages of the world : — the age of Pericles and Alexander — 
 the age of Augustus — the period of the Medica?an ascendancy in 
 Italy, or the age of Leo as it is usually called — and " though 
 last, not least in his dear love," the reign of Louis Je Grand. 
 
 These periods, however distinguished by the splendid achieve- 
 ments of the human mind in sciences and arts, appear to have 
 
44 
 
 Britain, for thee! a brighter age expands, 
 Bless'd rock, on which the church of Freedom stands ! 
 From whose pure shrine expel I'd w r ith idol power, 
 Anarch's grim gods a pagan world devour *, 380 
 
 been but little favourable to the interests of human liberty : the 
 influence of Pericles at Athens may be said to have in a great 
 degree undermined that free system, the total subversion of 
 which was effected by Philip and Alexander. The majestic 
 liberties of Rome, so long convulsed in the agonies of dissolution, 
 at last expired without a groan in the arms of Augustus. The 
 liberal and magnificent House of Medici, suppressed by their 
 power the factious and turbulent contentions of the republic of 
 Florence; but her freedom did not long outlive the operation. 
 Louis XIV. made himself despotic in France, and endeavoured 
 to become the tyrant of Europe. He patronized through vanity, 
 and oppressed through pride. He seems to have been less cruel 
 than arrogant, less generous than vain-glorious. 
 
 Let us hope, that the fifth great epocha of the civilized world 
 may be derived and denominated from the splendours of British 
 genius ; that it is reserved for Great Britain to prove that the 
 purest system of civil freedom, is creative of the noblest powers 
 of intellectual excellence. — Let us hope, that the liberal policy 
 of our princes, and our statesmen, will excite and second the 
 genius of their country; and that we may shortly see the arts 
 and sciences revolving in planetary splendour round the enli- 
 vening sun of British liberty ; refined to a degree of perfection 
 imattained in former periods ; deriving vigour from its heat and 
 lustre from its beams. 
 
 * " Thy hand, great Anarchy lets the curtain fall." 
 
 POPE DUNCIAD, 
 
45 
 
 Britain, for thee ! when calmer hours arrive, 
 And our cold year, th* unshelter'd arts survive, 
 For thee remains to prove, what radiant fires 
 Gild the clear heaven, where liberty inspires ; 
 To shew what springs of bounty from her hand, 385 
 As gushM the rock at Moses* high command, 
 O'er Art's impoverished plains refreshing flow, 
 And cheer the fainting tribes of Taste below. 
 
 While meaner states, like meaner men, endure 
 To slumber life in luxury secure, 390 
 Sunk in the selfish present; cheek'd, suppress'd, 
 The heav'n-wrought springs of glory in the breast, 
 That shoot th' elancing soul through time's career, 
 To reach renown, and grasp hereafter here; 
 Be thine, Britannia, thine the nobler aim, 395 
 To live through long futurity of fame ; 
 To gain the wreaths that grateful arts bestow, 
 Power's proudest immortality below ! 
 In Time's decay, ere Albion's empire dies, 
 To leave her constellation in the skies ; 400 
 Eclipse the glories of the world combined, 
 And give a fifth great aera to mankind. 
 
PART THE SECOND. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 The progress of the arts impeded by the disorders of the 
 times — the pursuits of our age also unfavourable to their ad- 
 vancement — the visionary speculations of modern philosophy — 
 the metaphysical chemical, political, and agricultural manias 
 — a general disregard of the Muses, the Graces, and the arts, 
 in pursuit of physical phaenoraena — the frivolous occupations 
 of science — the rage of experiment operating on all ranks, and 
 disorganizing the laws, morals, and politics of society — the 
 convulsions of Europe occupying the public mind so as to leave 
 no leisure for attention to the children of taste — impediments 
 to the progress of the arts arising also from the prejudices of 
 criticism in favour of antiquity — from the hostility of pretended 
 connoisseurs, the prevalence of picture dealers, and the apathy 
 of those whose taste and influence should correct those evils — 
 the neglect of the state in not holding out incitements to genius 
 regretted — the great influx of pictures from the continent inju- 
 rious to the exertions of native talents, and tending to engross 
 the means as well as to destroy the spirit of patronage — the af- 
 fectation of connoisseurship exemplified in the character of Ti- 
 mander — allusion to the few who have distinguished themselves 
 by a friendly interest in the advancement of the arts — the foun- 
 der of the Shakspeare Gallery — allusion to the late Duke of 
 
48 
 
 Bridgewater's improvements of inland navigation, and the cele- 
 brated collection of pictures he formed in the latter part of his 
 life — sketch of a true critic — address to the young painter, not 
 to be discouraged by the obstructions here enumerated — plea- 
 sures stated to arise from the practice of his art sufficient to 
 counterbalance its anxieties, by opening the treasures of nature 
 to his view, elevating his mind above gross enjoyments, and fur- 
 nishing him with a means of rational delight in all situations and 
 circumstances. 
 
31HYMES ON AKT5 
 
 OR, THS 
 
 REMONSTRANCE, Kc. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 Omnia, si nescis, loca sunt plenissima nugis 
 Cluarum tota cohors, est inimica tibi. 
 
 JOHN OF SALISBURY. 
 
 F ar other views our age exclusive claim, 
 Repress our hopes, and check our flight to fame. 
 As sickness fouls the palate, and no more 
 We bear those sweets, the sense enjoy'd before; 
 
 Line I. Far other views our age exclusive claim."]— Though 
 the wreath of art has for some years bloomed upon the brow 
 of Britain, it must be confessed, that neither the spirit of the 
 
 s 
 
so 
 
 Distemper'd times each finer feeling lose, 5 
 Disrelish taste, and tarn from every muse : 
 
 times, nor the liberality of the state, have much contributed to 
 place it there. If she has excelled her neighbours, in every 
 department of painting; in history, portrait, and landscape; 
 if she has displayed a power, a vigour, a spirit, a richness of 
 effect in water-coloured drawings, which rival the productions 
 of the easel, and surpass the efforts of every other age, and 
 nation; to her genius, her unfostered, usustained, uninvigor- 
 ated genius the praise is due. We have seen no great exer- 
 tions of power, to stimulate ambition, or to reward desert: 
 there have been no fruits forced in the hot-beds of patronage ; 
 individuals have done every thing — the nation, nothing. The 
 plants of Taste have sprung up around us, to a luxuriance 
 sufficient to prove the fertility of the soil, though the care of 
 the gardener has been wanting, and the shelter of the green- 
 house unknown. Thus, though the character of the natives of 
 these countries has been rescued from the imputation of dulness, 
 and inability to excel in the pursuits of taste, yet the charac- 
 ter of the nation, as far as it is connected with the fine arts, 
 or can be exemplified in the various forms of public patronage 
 and the protection afforded to those who profess them, remains 
 yet to be relieved from an aspersion more mortifying, because 
 better founded. 
 
 The Royal Academy (the only* institution for the cultivation 
 
 . * The Society for the Encouragement of Arts, Manufactures, and Com- 
 merce, may here occur to the reader: but the plan formed by this very re- 
 spectable body, is so extensive, and the cultivation of the fine arts appears t» 
 
51 
 
 And as the passive patient, for his good, 
 
 Will swallow physic, while he nauseates food; 
 
 The feverish state rejects the healthful fare, 
 
 The cordial cup Apollo's sons prepare, 10 
 
 of art, of which we can boast) was formed by artists, and 
 though it was fortunate enough to obtain the countenance and 
 high sanction of his Majesty, and to be assisted in its first 
 years by his beneficence; yet, from the nature of its plan, 
 and the necessary limitation of its expenditure, if we except 
 the utility of its exhibitions, already noticed, it affords but 
 slender means of improvement, and no encouragement to 
 rising genius. 
 
 This establishment, which ought to be national and com- 
 prehensive ; which should include within its walls every thing 
 that is essential, expedient, or inviting, to the progress of the 
 student ; which should rest on a foundation worthy of the freest, 
 the richest, the most powerful, and the most generous people 
 on earth ; and which by foreigners is supposed to be a splendid 
 example of public munificence, derives its income from the 
 disinterested labours of artists ; possesses not a single original 
 example of the old masters ; and, excepting the advantage of 
 apartments at Somerset Place, has not for many years received 
 the smallest assistance from the state. 
 
 With means of support, so inadequate to what ought to be the 
 
 be so inconsiderable^ and subordinate a part of it, that the author does not 
 conceive how, in his view of the subject, it can be considered an exception 
 to his observation. 
 
52 
 
 While pill, drop, drug, and potion, all go down. 
 As mountebanks discharge them on the town* 
 In heat of brain, a rude, eruptive race, 
 Break out in blotches on the public face, 
 Ferment each acrid humour to offence, 15 
 And propagate the leprosy of sense ; 
 Till lazar life, unseemly grown and sore, 
 Begs for relief again at Giffard's door. 
 
 Why, GifTard, why like Dives dost thou hoard 
 Those crumbs of wit thou canst so well afford ? 20 
 Why fly to former ages — foreign climes*? 
 Thou Juvenal of more prolific times I 
 Beneath thy club though Hydras dire have bled, 
 Again, mis-shapen monsters rear the head ; 
 Again, th* Antaeus folly, from the ground, 25 
 Starts into strength, and struts, and swells around ; 
 Another labour yet demands thy pen, 
 To drag each critic Cacus from his den : 
 
 prime object of the institution, the surprise is not, that so little 
 has been done, but that so much has been effected. 
 
 * Alluding to Mr. Giffard's late translation of Juvenal's Satires. 
 
53 
 
 With generous zeal to Art's assistance haste; 
 And free once more the suffering state of Taste. 30 
 The blooms of life, the flowers of heaven that blow, 
 To deck the souPs dark gloomy grave below; 
 That breathe refining fragrance through the air, 
 And purify this atmosphere of care ; 
 ChillM by the blast, fall wither'd in our walk, 35 
 Or droop the head, and die upon the stalk. 
 
 Line 29. With generous zeal to Art's assistance haste ;] — Could 
 the author of the Baviad condescend to follow in the track of 
 another bard, what a subject for his muse would the Pursuits 
 of Taste afford S — what a rich field for the exercise of hi* 
 powers ! 
 
 " Nor shoots up folly to a nobler bloom, 
 
 " In her own native soil — the drawing-room." 
 
 YOUNG. 
 
 Compared to this prolific theme, the Pursuits of Literature are 
 but a dry and barren topic. 
 
 We.e Mr. Gifford inclined to canter his satirical Pegasus 
 over li.e course of Criticism, and sport a little with the follies 
 of Virtu, he can be at no loss for the necessary technical 
 knowledge, — he has a friend well qualified to place the subject 
 in a picturesque point of view — 
 
 Hoppner would aid the Muse with hand and heart, 
 And bring in bold alliance, wit, and art, 
 
54 
 
 The fence neglected, lays the garden bare, 
 
 For all life's ruder herds to revel there, 
 
 With horn and hoof who ravage root and spoil, 
 
 Browse every sweet, and batten on the soil. 40 
 
 Ungrac'd, ungracious, dull, demure, and vain, 
 A caviling, cold, pert, disputatious train; 
 The nation's obloquy, the time's offence, 
 Infest philosophy, and torture sense; 
 Pervert all truth, proscribe each finer art ; 45 
 Fire the weak head, and freeze the feeling heart; 
 Adrift in Passion's tempest turn the mind, 
 And cut the moral cables of mankind. 
 In patchwork of exploded follies wrought, 
 Close quilted in good housewifery of thought, 50 
 Their heads with straws from Rousseau's stubble 
 crown'd, 
 
 Our metaphysic madmen rave around : 
 With kings and priests, they wage eternal war, 
 And laws, as life's strait waistcoats they abhor, 
 As crafty means to check the mind's career, 55 
 And put inspir'd philosophers in fear; 
 
55 
 
 To cramp the energies of soul and sense, 
 And constitute enjoyment an offence. 
 
 Line 58. And constitute enjoyment an offence.'] — If history- 
 did not sufficiently prove, that nations, like individuals, have 
 their periods of weakness and their paroxysms of frenzy, it 
 would be matter of wonder that the opinions here alluded to 
 should have made such a progress in society, in opposition to 
 the strongest current of experience, and the clearest deductions 
 of common sense. The ingenious speculations of men whose 
 minds are wound up to an Utopian enthusiasm ; who seek in 
 human nature for something which the sifting scrutiny of ages 
 has not been able to find in it ; and fondly expect from the 
 future, results materially different from the past, might indeed 
 be considered amusing subjects of discussion, if they were not 
 dangerous causes of discontent. 
 
 But it can never be safe to trifle with doctrines, which in- 
 culcate contempt for the gathered wisdom of ages; which un- 
 settle the established relations of right and wrong, and seduce 
 us from the just estimation of our present state, by visions of 
 impracticable good, and unattainable perfection. 
 
 The author's quarrel with them, however, in this place, 
 arises on other grounds — from the conviction, that they tend 
 not only to disorganize, but to vulgarize society, and despoil 
 it of all those graces, and refinements, that have grown out of the 
 order of things which they are professedly directed to amend. 
 Of this, it is no bad illustration, that amongst many disciples 
 of what has been emphatically termed the new school, it became 
 a frequent subject of doubt and discussion — whether mankind 
 
56 
 
 What food for ridicule! what room for wrath ! 
 When study works up folly to a froth! 60 
 
 had derived most good or evil from the introduction of the fine 
 arts ! ! ! Indeed, it is impossible to say, to what excess such 
 extravagant notions might not have proceeded, if the good 
 sense of the time had not stepped forward to expose them. We 
 were in some danger of seeing the whims of Cornelius Agrippa * 
 revived with more seriousness, and less learning ; of witnessing 
 new declamations on the vanity of arts and sciences, issuing 
 from the prurient brain of disordered speculation, and denounc- 
 ing those ornaments of life at the bar of political regeneration, 
 as the pestilent promoters of inequality, and the corrupters of 
 all civic virtue. 
 
 But even if it should be allowed (and it is certainly highly 
 probable) that the founders of the new philosophy could never 
 have had it in contemplation to pluck up, and eradicate as 
 pernicious luxuries, those tender plants of civil culture ; yet 
 surely, that result could scarcely fail to follow from the gene- 
 ral adoption of the principles they avow. Though the author 
 does not consider himself very well qualified to analyze the 
 materials of human society x or to discriminate nicely, between 
 causes and concomitants, in the confused and puzzling pro- 
 gress of moral and political operations, yet he thinks he can 
 see all the finer arts and ornaments of life, all the delicate 
 
 * Cornelius Agrippa, a learned philosopher and reputed magician of 
 Belgia, who flourished in the sixteenth century, and amongst other extra-, 
 ordinary and ingenious productions, published a treatise on the vanity of the 
 arts and sciences; ascribing them to the agency of the devil, for the cpr^ 
 ruption of man. 
 
57 
 
 When duiness bubbling o'er ambition's fire, 
 In cloud, and smoke, and vapour will aspire; 
 
 flowers of taste and genius blooming on the very stems of the 
 garden, to the roots of which the axe of modern amelioration 
 seems most particularly directed. From the innumerable 
 complications of civil interest and social dependence ; from 
 the influence of wealth and luxury, in thrir most unrestrained 
 and extended operations; from the inequalities of fortune, 
 rank, and degree, holding out object to ambition, and impulse 
 to labour; spurring the poor by necessity, the rich by dis- 
 tinction; offering ease to diligence, and leisure to curiosity; 
 and furnishing every individual with his appropriate motive of 
 exertion in the general struggle, may be traced to arise, what- 
 ever softens, refines, elevates, adorns, and dignifies the cha- 
 racter of human nature. From the grand collision of mind 
 operating, and operated on, in this unremitting contest of rival 
 hopes, pretensions, and powers, are struck out those brilliant 
 sparks of civilization, those electric lights of arts and sciences, 
 which irradiate the otherwise sombre scene of our existence, 
 and shine the beneficent planets of the social firmament. 
 
 To simplify society, therefore, (as far as that expression 
 means, to check the progress of wealth, luxury, and inequality,) 
 would be (in the author's opinion) to do it a very great injury: 
 it would be to take a direction the very reverse of that in which 
 cultivation has travelled, since first the simple shelter of the 
 forest and the cave, was forsaken for the less equalized accom- 
 modations of the cottage and the town. 
 
 Wherever society is most refined, there also, its forms ap^. 
 
58 
 
 Through each foul funnel of the press will rise, 
 And fill with fog the intellectual skies! 
 
 pear the most complicated. Society is a grand machine, all 
 the parts of which depend on each other in such delicate and 
 intricate connexion, and are so nicely adjusted by the cautious 
 hands of time and experience, that it seems no easy matter 
 for the most expert political mechanic, to ascertain exactly, 
 what pin or wheel can be pulled out, or removed, without 
 danger to its most ingenious and essential movements. Inter- 
 est, self-interest, is the firm supporting pivot on which the 
 whole enginery rests and turns ; want, passion, ambition, are 
 the main-springs of its operation; wealth, power, pleasure, 
 glory, luxury, the principal wheels, which, communicating 
 motion to all the dependent arrangements of minuter me- 
 chanism, at length set forward the golden hands of genius and 
 taste to move on the dial of existence, and point to the bright- 
 est periods of time, and the most memorable epochas of 
 man. 
 
 But these, as Mr. Burke says, " are high matters" not to be 
 dispatched in a note, or touched by a rhymer on art ; the au- 
 thor, therefore, had better check his presumptuous pen, lest 
 the reader should suspect that he intended to set himself for- 
 ward as a philosopher. Luckily there is now but little to be 
 apprehended from the ameliorating mania he has noticed ; the 
 new lights of civilization are nearly burned down, at least in 
 this country; but while a spark remains in the socket, the 
 extinguishers of reason and ridicule should be applied, for we 
 may be offended by the snuff, after we have blown out the 
 candle. 
 
59 
 
 Caught by the chemic mania raging round, 65 
 The votaries of the crucible abound; 
 The moles of Science ! who her soil explore, 
 And buried deep in matter's darkness pore; 
 Who, cold to wit and beauty, bend their cares, 
 To earths and acids, alkalis and airs; 70 
 Slight e'en the sage endow'd with skill refin'd, 
 To mark the whole phenomena of mind ; 
 With nobler zeal develope virtue's plan, 
 And analyze the properties of man. 
 
 But chief their toils with zest peculiar charm, 75 
 Who teach to feed the flock, and till the farm; 
 Who still in view man's lofty function keep, 
 To fatten calves, and mend the breed of sheep : 
 A rough-shod race; who Fancy's flowrets scorn, 
 And trample down as tares among the corn ; 80 
 The Muses' hill reclaim as common waste, 
 Parnassus plough, and rake the field of Taste. 
 
 What bliss to live? if life's best hopes decay, 
 And thoughtless folly fling each flower away; 
 
60 
 
 If low-born toils usurp the public hive, 85 
 
 And from the utile, the dulce drive ; 
 
 If partial zeal, perverting Reason's plan, 
 
 Regard the animal, and not the man; 
 
 Provide with provender the stalls of sense, 
 
 And pamper appetite at wit's expense? 90 
 
 A morbid pride, a torpor has surprised 
 Taste's leading nerve, and life is paralyz'd; 
 The blood still circulates, though feeling's dead, 
 The body fattens, but the mind is fled. 
 
 Line 94. The body fattens^ but the mind is fled.'] — Gibbon re- 
 marks, in his Essai sur TEtnde de la Literature, "That all 
 ages and countries have seen some particular sciences made 
 the subject of an unjust preference, to the irrational neglect 
 and exclusion of the rest." The observation seems to apply 
 to the present period with peculiar force; physics, politics, 
 and rural economy bear down all competitors for public notice 
 and protection. If you cannot explain, or describe some new 
 chemical phenomenon, construct an ingenious system of civil 
 polity, or d'scuss with learned prolixity the merits of the drill, 
 the hoe, and the oil - cake, your productions are of little im- 
 portance, and can expect but little attention. The press 
 groans with agricultural reports, statistical surveys, and che- 
 mical controversies ; "system on system in confusion hurled," 
 
61 
 
 Each nobler aim that bids ambition rise, 9$ 
 And wings the soul of genius for the skies, 
 
 shake to their foundations the established principles of past 
 times, and loosen the concerns of society, to toss and fluctuate 
 in the troubled sea of experiment and speculation. Much 
 credit is certainly due to that investigating spirit which has for 
 its object the amelioration and accommodation of man; which 
 penetrates the inmost recesses of the state edifice ; detects the 
 injuries of time and storm ; and roots out lurking abuses from 
 the neglected nooks, and cobwebbed corners of society. But 
 still, we should not suffer an inconsiderate zeal to mar its own 
 projects; " est modus in rebus;" we should reflect, that the 
 operations of altering and refitting, in the political as well as 
 in the domestic establishment, are attended with great con- 
 fusion, exposure, and inconvenience to regular habits and sober 
 inhabitants; that without the judgment of the skilful surveyor, 
 we are in danger of mistaking the settlements of time, which 
 confirm security, for the symptoms of decay, which demand 
 repair; and may be led by capricious ignorance, or unfounded 
 fears, to disturb and dilapidate, where we intended to arrange 
 and improve. We should also consider, in the fervour of our 
 devotion to favourite pursuits, that experiments may be mul- 
 tiplied till the principles to be deduced from them are for- 
 gotten ; that our kitchens may be converted into laboratories 
 without improving our cooks ; and even, that oxen may be 
 fattened— to disease. 
 
 The more elegant, the more refined, and surely in an en- 
 lightened view, not the least useful pursuits of life, experience 
 in the present day but little kindness ; they are out of the pale 
 
62 
 
 Pursuits, which on the vulgar world look down, 
 And lead to life immortal in renown ; 
 Neglected, slighted, rue the tasteless hour, 
 When every Muse laments her lessening power; 1 0t> 
 When dull projectors crowd from every clime, 
 To prey upon the follies of the time ; 
 Their crafty schemes of low ambition lay. 
 And sweep the meed of wit and worth away. 
 
 Philosophy, no more content to dwell, 105 
 With hermit study whispering in his cell ; 
 
 of public solicitude, unnoticed in the press of bolder claimants. 
 We hear of no institutions* formed to protect and encourage 
 them; of no prizes granted to the caterers of mind, to the prime 
 feeders of intellect, to the best cultivators of taste and refine- 
 ment : the growth of genius is neglected for the propagation of 
 monsters; and again the fatted calf has become the most 
 acceptable offering at the shrine of power and patronage. 
 " Pingue pecus domino faciasf ' is the universal prayer, but 
 the " et caetera praeter ingenium, 1 ' is forgotten. 
 
 * This remark is now no longer just: the public has heard of an institution 
 established for the express purpose above mentioned; an institution which, 
 while it removes from the present age the reproach of apathy and indiffer- 
 ence to the fine arts, will, it is to be hoped, rescue the interests of taste 
 from neglect and degradation. 
 
 •f Horace. 
 
63 
 
 Forsakes in speculative pride the sage, 
 
 And walks the wildest maniac of the age: 
 
 SpelPd by her eye where'er the spectre strays, 
 
 Insurgent shouts the maddening rabble raise ; 110 
 
 Life raves around through each infected brain, 
 
 Confusion reigns, and chaos comes again. 
 
 Science, that erst on eagle pinion soared, 
 
 Where wisdom wonder'd, and where faith ador'd ; 
 
 To regions, whence eternal truths diffused, 1 1$ 
 
 EnlightenM man, and bless' d a world abus'd ; 
 
 Now with clipp'd wing, familiar flirts away 
 
 In Fashion's cage, the parrot of the day ; 
 
 The sibyl of a shrine where fops adore, 
 
 The oracle of culinary lore. 120 
 
 On every side th' insatiate passion spreads, 
 Subdues all hearts, and occupies all heads; 
 Rank, sex, and age possess'd beyond belief, 
 To physics fly, and Fuscus for relief, 
 Who, like a nursing mother at command, 125 
 With soup, and science, suckles all the land. 
 
64 
 
 Lo ! e'en the fair with learned fury fraught ! 
 
 On beauty's brow affect the frown of thought, 
 
 To studious seeming discipline their face, 
 
 And wear the mask of meaning in grimace. 15 
 
 Clorinda with electric ardour glows, 
 
 And frights with full-charg'd battery her beaux ; 
 
 The common conquests of her eyes disdains, 
 
 And holds her slaves in scientific chains* 
 
 Each weeping Grace her shrine deserted views, 135 
 
 And calls for vengeance, on th' indignant Muse ; 
 
 While Cupid trembling, flies th' infected ground, 
 
 Scar'd at the philosophic scowl around. 
 
 Line 158. Scar'd at the philosophic scowl around*] — The read- 
 er will readily believe, the author cannot mean to cast a re- 
 flection on the serious pursuits of science in general, or the re- 
 gular cultivation of Chemistry in particular, from which so 
 much unequivocal advantage has resulted in almost every de- 
 partment of life. The labours of a Fourcroy, a Kirwan, and a 
 Davy, must always attract our regard and gratitude ; and he 
 should regret to find himself for a moment suspected of design- 
 ing to depreciate their value, or diminish their just influence. 
 " Ludimus innocui." He has the highest respect for the physi- 
 cal sciences, but he thinks they have at present more than their 
 
65 
 
 Nor yet in private life alone displayed, 
 A solemn farce in Fashion's masquerade ; 140 
 To higher spheres th' ambitious rage resorts, 
 Pollutes e'en politics, and catches courts : 
 
 share in the partition of public favour; that they engross too 
 much of the little disposable attention the requisitions of poli- 
 tics and war have left us to bestow. He would only rally that 
 exclusive preference of inanimate, to animate; of matter, to 
 mind ; of earth, to heaven, which exists to the utter neglect of 
 objects more elevated, more in need of protection, and not less 
 important in every liberal view of morals, of manners, and of 
 national estimation. He would in particular, venture to call in 
 question the advantages to be derived from that rage for scien- 
 tific amusement, which has for some time operated on all ranks 
 and degrees. He would ask, what is expected from this new 
 union of fashion and philosophy, this alliance of antipathies, this 
 treaty offensive and defensive between natural enemies ? " A 
 little learning is a dangerous thing." It seems to be the pecu- 
 liar danger of the age we live in — the distemper of the times, 
 which taints the whole mass of mind, and converts society into 
 a general hospital of disordered wits and disabled faculties. It 
 is safer not to see at all, than to see only to be deceived ; as in 
 dense fogs the blind are found to be the best guides. In the 
 darkness of ignorance we are humble and cautious; we feel our 
 way step by step, and make use of old marks and established 
 conductors to assist our progress ; but in the glimmerings of 
 superficial knowledge we rush on our danger, because we pre- 
 sume on our light ; we dash against difficulties unseen or mis- 
 conceived ; we. mistake forms for things, and shades for sub- 
 
 F 
 
66 
 
 Professors there in pride of power elate, 
 Would try experiments on every state, 
 Reorganize the globe on Reason's plan, 1 45 
 
 New- temper Nature, aiad new-model man. 
 
 stances ; and are either terrified to inaction by false fears and 
 erroneous appearances, or stimulated to rashness in the confi- 
 dence of imaginary safety. 
 
 What beneficial effects can result from this superficial smat- 
 tering of science at present so prevalent ? this duck and drake 
 dip in the profound of physical erudition, which seems calcula- 
 ted only to divest ignorance of her diffidence, without removing 
 her defects; which flatters folly and frivolity with the semblance 
 of skill ; and heightens affectation by tricking her out in all the 
 airs of philosophy ? Though the author is far from being one of 
 those who would restrict the studies of the fair to the mere eco- 
 nomy of the household, the productions of the tambour-frame, 
 or the precept's of Glasse's Cookery ; yet he confesses he has 
 no relish for science in coteries, and professors in petticoats. 
 He thinks the new chemical nomenclature makes an awkward 
 addition to the vocabulary of the loves and graces. The very 
 sounds of oxygene, and hydrogene, and caloric, and carbonic, 
 proceeding from the delicate lips of beauty herself, operate like 
 a chill on the heart, and a check to the ardour of admiration. 
 It is to be feared also, that as yet there are no very convincing 
 examples to prove, that the fair derive much improvement in 
 person, manners, or mind, as women, as wives, or as mothers, 
 from dabbling in the crucible with the chemist, or charging a 
 battery with the electrician. The author acknowledges, that 
 he is jealous of those favoured rivals, whom he thinks neither 
 
67 
 
 No more her ancient settled system priz'd, 
 
 Lo ! Europe, like a compound analyz'd ! 
 
 Her laws, modes, morals melted down, to try 
 
 What forms the fighting elements supply; 150 
 
 What shapes of social order rise refin'd, 
 
 From Speculation's crucible combined; 
 
 While cool state chymists watch the boiling brim, 
 
 And life's low dregs upon the surface swim. 
 
 What ! though 'midst Passion's fiery tumults toss'd, 
 
 A generation's in the process lost, 156 
 
 Regardless of his raw material, man, 
 
 The calm philosopher pursues his plan ; 
 
 Looks on the ruin of a race with scorn, 
 
 And works the weal of ages yet unborn. 160 
 
 sufficiently sensible of their charms, nor grateful for their at- 
 tentions ; he has so much regard for the gentler sex, that he 
 would spare them the pain of traversing the dry and thorny 
 wilds of science ; and seduce their graceful steps through flow- 
 ery paths to the more congenial regions of taste, and the more 
 amusing bowers of fancy. 
 
 But the accomplished belle of the present day, slights the 
 muses and graces for the more alluring charms of physical phe- 
 nomena ; she performs with a grave face the farce of philoso- 
 phical experiment, and terrifies her unscientific papa, by mimic 
 thunders, electric shocks, and artificial earthquakes. 
 
68 
 
 Caught by the desolating blasts that sweep, 
 With sable pinions o'er the social deep, 
 Life's gentler joys, that spread their silken sails, 
 In calmer seas, and summer-breathing gales, 
 Disaster'd wander o'er the waste that roars 165 
 In threat'ning tumult round Refinement's shores. 
 The public mind with pond'rous cares oppress'd, 
 While Europe's dangers throb in every breast, 
 Can scarce a thought on humbler claimants waste, 
 The drooping sons of genius and of taste. 170 
 Stunn'd by the crash of empires falling round, 
 The deafen'd sense admits no softer sound ; 
 Each Muse desponding strikes her lyre in vain, 
 She finds no ear at leisure for the strain ; 
 Arts toiling sons their slighted stores unfold, 175 
 Each eye is vacant, and each heart is cold. 
 
 Line 176. Each eye is vacant, and each heart is cold.'] — Not 
 only have our native arts to combat this general indifference to 
 their interests, and the preference of the public attention, which 
 inferior pursuits have so unaccountably obtained, but even 
 circumstances which might naturally be supposed to assist their 
 progress, are deprived of all beneficial influence, and converted 
 into a means of depressing their exertions. 
 
u9 
 
 Nor harder fate neglected Art attends 
 From open foes, than false affected friends; 
 
 Thus, the influx of foreign art, which the convulsions of the 
 continent have occasioned here, were it the means of esta- 
 blishing accessible public or private collections, might, by 
 contributing to his improvement, afford the painter some con- 
 solation for the diminution of his profits ; but, unfortunately, 
 from the spirit of reserve and seclusion which pervades all our 
 establishments, public and private, this immense mass of an- 
 cient art at present operates only to engross that wealth and 
 attention, some portion of which would, under other circum- 
 stances, be directed to stimulate and reward the exertions of 
 British genius. ^ 
 
 In this country, indeed, more than any other that pretends 
 to the cultivation of the fine arts, public collections of the works 
 of taste are wanting to facilitate the studies of the painter. The 
 many fine pictures we possess, are dispersed in the cabinets of 
 private individuals, who, for the most part, are little disposed 
 to communicate beyond their own circles the advantages to be 
 derived from "contemplating their beauties. In many cases, 
 they are wholly removed from the examination of the student ; 
 and almost in every case where the opportunity of viewing 
 them for the purpose of improvement can be procured at all, it 
 is attended with so many forms and difficulties, that he must 
 have more zeal than spirit who would not rather forego the pri- 
 vilege in disgust, than encounter tne oostructions which stand in 
 the way of its attainment. 
 
 It is not in the cursory and confused view of fine art, 
 
70 
 
 Ungenerous guardians, who their trust betray, 
 And squander her inheritance away ; 180 
 
 occasionally caught at sales and auction-rooms, and still less, 
 in that tantalizing glimpse, en passant, allowed by the Ciceroni, 
 who conduct the gazing groups of periodical visitors in proces- 
 sion through our celebrated collections, that the young painter 
 can obtain from the works of the great masters that improve- 
 ment which they are so well calculated to afford. To study a 
 picture with advantage, we must see it at our ease ; there must 
 be leisure for observation, and tranquillity for thought ; in the 
 eagerness of hurried examination the mind is confused, one 
 impression is obliterated by another, till all our remarks are 
 jumbled together in a chaos of imperfect recollections, which 
 neither satisfy curiosity nor improve taste. 
 
 A few fine examples of the different schools, collected with 
 judgment, and placed within the reach of the student, either 
 to copy or contemplate at leisure, is a desideratum of the 
 highest consequence to the advancement of British art, and an 
 object certainly not unworthy the interference of the govern- 
 ment to effect. Without attempting to rival the treasures of 
 the Louvre, by imitating either the plunder by which they have 
 been amassed, or the parade with which they have been pro- 
 duced to public inspection, it would be a graceful act in those 
 who superintend the interests of the state, to assist in establishing 
 a national depot of art, which might supply to native genius 
 the advantages of foreign travel, and secure to us the superi- 
 ority which our unassisted efforts have so honourably obtained. 
 There is more real knowledge, more solid instruction to be 
 derived from the study of one fine work of art, than can be 
 
71 
 
 Fame's elder sons with fruitless love embrace, 
 But look repulsive on the rising race. 
 To her first ages partial, critics find, 
 That Nature all her stores of wit assigned, 
 
 supplied by all the powers of precept, or the laboured refine- 
 ments of criticism. 
 
 The late excellent President of the Royal Academy (Sir 
 Joshua Reynolds) lost a noble opportunity of setting an ex- 
 ample of public spirit and munificence, which might have been 
 attended with the best effects, and would have entitled him to 
 be considered the benefactor of his profession by his generosity, 
 as well as by his genius. If, instead of leaving several excel- 
 lent pictures from his collection to enrich the cabinets of his 
 noble friends, which probably stood but little in need of the 
 addition, he had selected a successful specimen of his own 
 powers, with two or three good examples of the old masters, 
 and bequeathed them to the Royal Academy, expressly to 
 operate as the germ of a future collection, they would have 
 formed a nucleus, round which a gallery might kave grown by 
 this time, from the liberal contributions of those who would 
 have been induced to follow an example so truly patriotic, and 
 thereby connect their names most honourably with the arts of 
 their country. Had Sir Joshua done this, it had been worthy 
 the greatness of his character, though perhaps, more than 
 either his country or his profession had any right to expect of 
 him. But his memory has sufficient claims to our veneration, 
 although it should be said, 
 
 " Hoc defuit unum Fabricio." 
 
72 
 
 Heirs of her love endowed above the rest, 185 
 
 By right of primogeniture possess'd: 
 
 But we, dull sons of her exhausted powers, 
 
 Brought forth in Time's degenerating hours, 
 
 Cut off from genius, and curtail'd of sense, 
 
 Are left to prey at large on Providence; 190 
 
 A refuse race, unfinished, unrefin'd ; 
 
 Drawn from the dregs and sediment of mind. 
 
 In better times, ere pride had yet suppress'd 
 The generous love of country in the breast; 
 Ere philosophic lights had clearly shewn, 195 
 'Tis vulgar prejudice prefers our own; 
 That pure benevolence impartial glows, 
 Alike for Albion's and for Afric's woes; 
 High soars on philanthropic flight refin'd, 
 In bird's eye view embracing all mankind. 200 
 In better times, when better feelings rul'd, 
 The patriot kindled, ere the critic cool'd; 
 Though candour freely spoke, yet kindness cheer'd, 
 And fann'd the embers while a spark appear'd ; 
 
73 
 
 In wit, or war, whate'er the field of fame, 205 
 
 Each honest heart upheld his country's claim, 
 
 And deem'd with equal wound the treason harms, 
 
 That stabs her arts, or counteracts her arms. 
 
 But now, those narrow, local views unknown, 
 
 We learn to prize all countries — but our own; 210 
 
 Find wit, and art, and taste, and genius given 
 
 To every happy nation under heaven, 
 
 Save just at home ! — there Nature's bounty fails, 
 
 And critic pride o'er patriot worth prevails. 
 
 O! dead to shame, to life's best feelings lost! 215 
 
 Whose taste can triumph at his country's cost! 
 
 Painting, dejected views a vulgar band, 
 From every haunt of dulness in the land, 
 
 Line 217. Painting, dejected views a vulgar band.] — Though 
 painting is evidently a subject less within the grasp of the un- 
 practised amateur than perhaps any other object of criticism, 
 yet there is no topic upon which the ignorant are less reserved, 
 er the superficial more confident. 
 
 The objects of art are supposed to be familiar to every eye. 
 The forms of animals, the effects of light and shade, the varie- 
 ties of colour, the characteristics of passion, offer themselves 
 
74 
 
 In heathen homage to her shrine repair, 
 
 And immolate all living merit there ; 220 
 
 on every side to our contemplation ; and no man willingly ad- 
 mits, that he is unimpressed by his experience, or that he has 
 cast his eyes around him through life, and yet observed no- 
 thing. We find also, that what is supposed to be received from 
 nature, is more a subject of vanity than that which we bestow 
 upon ourselves ; we may, perhaps, be content to be thought de- 
 ficient in those things which depend upon our own exertions, but 
 do not like to be ranked amongst Nature's neglected children, 
 or to be supposed ungraccd with those qualities by which she 
 usually distinguishes her favourites. Thus, he whose vanity 
 never affects the praise of learning, does not so easily resign his 
 pretensions to taste; he may admit that he has little wealth of 
 his own acquiring, but he puts in his claim to that which he 
 considers his inheritance. Hence it is, that all descriptions of 
 people would be thought critics in painting, and that the pro- 
 fessor encounters in all societies, with those who unceremo- 
 niously contend with him in his proper province, and seem as 
 little disposed to respect his judgment as to encourage his skill. 
 Dissent, indeed, may be hazarded with impunity where an ipse 
 dixit decides ; and there is no great fear of conviction before a 
 tribunal, the competence of which it seems the privilege and 
 boast of criticism to question. 
 
 To study an art systematically, to trace it by long and la- 
 borious efforts from its rudiments to its refinements, has been 
 generally considered the most effectual means of acquiring not 
 only skill, but judgment; indeed, a plain understanding would 
 
75 
 
 From each cold clime of pride that glimmering lies, 
 Brain-bound and bleak, 'neath Affectation's skies, 
 
 suppose that the former, included the latter; and that the same 
 process which improved the one, must necessariljr refine the 
 other. In the pursuits of taste, however, this opinion has been 
 often doubted ; and with respect to painting in particular, it is 
 now unreservedly denied. Lookers-on, we are gravely told, 
 know more of the game than those who play it ; and, strange 
 to say ! the best judges of art are not to be found amongst 
 those who devote to it their lives, but those who bestow upon 
 it their leisure ! not amongst those who pursue it as an occu- 
 pation, but, those who sport with it as an amusement ! What 
 the dull artist cannot hope to obtain by years of assiduous ap- 
 plication, divided between the study of art and the contempla- 
 tion of nature, the enlightened critic receives by inspiration, 
 acquires without an effort — by lounging a few idle mornings in 
 an auction-room — poaching in Pliny and Pausanias, for classic 
 scraps, that he may 
 
 " With learning lard the leanness of his sense;" 
 
 or by a pop visit to the Louvre and the Vatican. 
 The moment 
 
 " Some demon whispers — Strephon, have a taste," 
 
 all the mysteries of art are unfolded to his view; he falls in love 
 at first sight with — the old masters : 
 
 " Insanit veteres tabulas Damasippus emendo." 
 
76 
 
 In critic crowds, new Vandal nations come, 
 And worse than Goths — again disfigure Rome; 
 With rebel zeal each graphic realm invade, 225 
 And crush their country's arts by foreign aid. 
 Dolts, from the ranks of useful service chas'd, 
 Pass muster in the lumber troop of Taste ; 
 
 He assumes without farther ceremony the character of a con- 
 noisseur, and expresses upon all occasions a laudable contempt 
 for the ignorance of the profession. 
 
 Were that profound critic, and formidable assailant of the 
 judgment of artists, Mr. Daniel Webb, to indulge the world in 
 th« present day with his lucubrations, he would have little rea- 
 son to observe, " That nothing is a greater hindrance to our 
 advances in art than the high opinion we form of the judgment 
 of its professors, and the proportionable diffidence oi. our own*." 
 He would be charmed to find how completely this obstruction 
 to the science of connoisseurship is removed ; how very little 
 " a diffidence of their own judgment" operates on the Webbs of 
 the day. To this happy effect he certainly contributed both by 
 precept and example ; he inculcated no respect for the persons 
 or opinions of artists, who, according to his polite and discri- 
 minating expression, " seldom like gentlemen and scholars rise 
 to an unprejudiced and liberal contemplation of true beauty." 
 And in a work, (the best parts of which Winkleman roundly 
 asserts to be taken from a manuscript communicated to him 
 
 * Inquiry into the Beauties of Painting, Dial. II. 
 
77 
 
 Soon learn to load with critic shot, and play 
 Their pop-guns on the genius of the day. 230 
 
 No awkward heir that o'er Campania's plain, 
 Has scamper'd like a monkey in his chain ; 
 No ambush'd ass, that hid in learning's maze, 
 Kicks at desert, and crops wit's budding bays; 
 
 by Mengs the painter) he with equal modesty and liberality 
 declares, that " a sketch" from his pen, " rude as it is t will 
 carry with it more of the true features of the original than any 
 you could collect/rom the writings of our painters, or the autho- 
 rity of our Ciceronis* ! ! \" 
 
 " Quid dignum tanto feret hie promissor hiatu ?" 
 
 Let it be remembered, however, that these sentiments have 
 proceeded from a " subtilis veterum judex," who talks of " the 
 splendid impositions of Rubens, and the caricatures of Michael 
 Angelof." 
 
 * Winkleman, in a letter quoted in the Memoirs of the Life of Mengs, 
 »ays of Webb's book : " Ce qu'il y de meilleur dans ce livre est tire d'un 
 manustrit sur la peinture que Mengs communica a l'auteur, que j'ai beau- 
 coup connu. Cependant le Fat ose avancer, qu'il n'y a point de peintre 
 que soit en etat de faire par lui-meme, Ies observations qu'il donne tandis 
 que e'est de Mengs qtCil a etnprunte ces observations." 
 
 + To oppose ihe annihilating dictum of this trenchant critic respecting 
 these two great artists, we have only the vulgar testimony and tasteless 
 admiration of such men as— Reynolds and Fuzeli* 
 
78 
 
 No baby grown, that still his coral keeps, 235 
 
 And sucks the thumb of Science till he sleeps ; 
 
 No mawkish son of sentiment who strains 
 
 Soft sonnet drops from barley-water brains; 
 
 No pointer of a paragraph, no peer, 
 
 That hangs a picture-pander at his ear; 240 
 
 No smatterer of the ciceroni crew, 
 
 No pauper of the parish of Virtu ; 
 
 But starts an Aristarchus on the town, 
 
 To hunt full cry dejected Merit down ; 
 
 With sapient shrug assumes the critic's part, 245 
 
 And loud deplores the sad decline of art. 
 
 The dunce no common calling will endure, 
 May thrive in taste, and ape the connoisseur; 
 No duties there, of sense, or science paid, 
 Taste's a free port where every fool may trade; 250 
 A mart where quacks of every kind resort, 
 The bankrupt's refuge, and the blockhead's forte. 
 
 Line 252. The bankrupt's refuge, and the blockhead's for te.] — 
 The real connoisseur is a character almost as rare and estima- 
 ble, as the affected connoisseur is common and ridiculous; but 
 
79 
 
 E'en they, with learning, spirit, sense endowed, 
 Whom real feeling rescues from the crowd ; 
 
 as there is no counterfeit of less value than the latter, so there 
 is none more easily detected ; the eye of taste discovers him 
 at the first glance ; and it would be no disadvantage to society , 
 if in all cases the impostor were to be exposed on the spot, as 
 bad coin is sometimes nailed to the counter at which it has 
 been fraudulently uttered. The true connoisseur is a man of 
 sense and sensibility, led by the love of nature to the contem- 
 plation of art; superior to common cant and vulgar prejudice ; 
 his feelings are alive to merit, ancient or modern, living or dead : 
 having formed to himself a standard of reference, the result of 
 attentive observation, accurate comparison, and mature reflec- 
 tion, he can measure merit without consulting the critical scale 
 of reputation ; he can give his opinion of a picture without first 
 inquiring the painter's name ; and has even the courage and the 
 kindness to distinguish contemporary talent though unsanc- 
 tioned by time or authority. The affected connoisseur, on the 
 other hand, is the dupe of delusion, the creature of caprice ; his 
 code of criticism is a catalogue raisonne ; he talks in techni- 
 cals like a parrot, and takes a picture-dealer as his oracle of art ; 
 he judges of nature by pictures, and sees the model only in the 
 imitation ; having no criterion of judgment but that which is 
 derived from the " whistling of a name," or the whisperings of 
 an auction-room ; he is unable to discriminate, and blames and 
 praises by the lump ; borne down by the bulk of reputation, 
 he has no test by which to assay its real purity, and separate 
 the metal from the dross ; conscious of his incapacity, he never 
 hazards approbation but on the back of authority, and therefore 
 
80 
 
 The finished few, on whom each Muse depends 255 
 For candid judges, and for generous friends, 
 E'en they unmov'd behold the bower defacM, 
 Nor more delight to raise the plants of Taste. 
 O ! doubly grac'd to rival worth, and raise, 
 Worth " fallen on evil tongues and evil days." 260 
 
 L , B , H , must th* unwilling strain 
 
 Accuse your coldness also, and complain ? 
 Complain that high in Fortune's favour placed, 
 Fashion's chief umpires in the court of Taste, 
 
 sacrifices without mercy or remorse, the claims of his contem- 
 poraries to the security of his own judgment, and covers his ig- 
 norance, and insensibility of the merits around him, with a 
 cloak of affected and indiscriminate contempt. 
 
 But the name of a great master is a passport through all the 
 outposts of criticism ; Raphael, Titian, Rubens, Correggio, are 
 sounds with which all the beauties of art are associated. The 
 question is not so much the excellence, as the authenticity of 
 the work ; the latter established, the former follows of course, 
 and the contented enthusiast forgets in the fervour of his zeal, 
 that the greatest genius proceeds at first in ignorance, and rises 
 late from mediocrity ; forgets, that the accomplished master he 
 admires was once an unskilful scholar ; and often bestows on the 
 abortive efforts of his inexperience that applause which should 
 be reserved for the best productions of his maturity. 
 
81 
 
 Aloof in careless apathy you stand, 265 
 And leave the arts unshelterM in the land. 
 
 So long our passion, and so late our prize, 
 Must hapless Painting fly our faithless skies? 
 Shut from our sordid view her opening charms, — 
 Lur'd by our vows, yet slighted in our arms. 270 
 While each low interest which assumes to aid 
 Th' o'erwhelming powers of politics and trade, 
 Stirs the whole state to work th' imagined weal, 
 And shakes the senate with superfluous zeal ; 
 Will no warm patriot take the Muses' part, 275 
 And rouse his country in the cause of art? 
 Plead for her present glory — future fame, 
 And save the age from everlasting shame ? 
 
 Line 278. And save the age from everlasting shame.] — It ap- 
 pears somewhat extraordinary, that among the many liberal 
 and enlightened individuals who adorn the senate of the na^ 
 tion, there should not be found one, desirous of distinguishing 
 himself by an exertion to excite the attention of the state to 
 the neglected interests of the fine arts. And yet, on what 
 subject could zeal be employed more gracefully, or eloquence 
 
 G 
 
82 
 
 Is Taste the only suffering stranger known, 
 
 That finds no refuge ^neath Britannia's throne ? 280 
 
 plead with more effect ? In what light more favourable could 
 the patriot present himself to the view of his country, than 
 that which exhibits him as the guardian and advocate of those 
 pursuits on which her present splendour and her future estima- 
 tion so materially depend ? Such a cause is in itself so ho- 
 nourable, that but to appear in it must be reputation, and to 
 fail in it could be no disgrace: but, unhappily, we have no 
 representative of the Muses — no volunteer deputy of the de- 
 partment of Taste. 
 
 The fine arts are considered as little better than a sort of 
 vagrants — a kind of wandering gypsies, without home or settle- 
 ment, who must be content to glean the stubble of society for 
 a precarious subsistence, and to whom even the claim of com- 
 monage is allowed as a favour. 
 
 Let us hope, however, that the children of Taste, like the 
 children of Israel, will ere long, find an establishment in the 
 Canaan of public munificence; that some enlightened Moses 
 will arise to lead them to the promised land of patronage and 
 protection: already, a light has dawned which omens well for 
 their deliverance. Surely, while we are expending thousands 
 to preserve, as mere curiosities, the mutilated remains of an- 
 cient arts, we shall not see with indifference our own arts 
 falling to decay ; while we generously contribute to enshrine 
 in splendour and magnificence the sacred relics of Egyptian 
 genius, we shall not shut the temple of patronage against the 
 
83 
 
 What hope remains when public spirit fails! 
 When power forsakes, and prejudice assails ! 
 When not e'en praise the churlish time supplies. 
 And patronage in picture-dealing dies! 
 The tide of fortune in full current view, 285 
 Pour'd on each upstart trader in virtu, 
 While the skill'd artist finds each prospect fly, 
 The stream exhausted, and the fountain dry. 
 
 No high excitements from the state address'd, 
 Wake slumbering genius in the painter's breast; 290 
 To themes divine recall his truant hand, 
 And bid proud art her heav'n-ward wing expand. 
 No patriot acts adorn our public halls ; 
 No Gospel glories grace Religion's walls ; 
 No martial pomps in pictur'd lore allure — 295 
 In taste alone is public spirit poor ? 
 
 living genius of Britain, nor refuse to extend the shelter of the 
 state to those interesting claimants, who repay with such 
 grateful interest whatever favour they experience, as to make 
 protection policy, and stimulate the sensibility of taste by the 
 purest considerations of patriotism. 
 
 G 2 
 
84 
 
 Art's mild complaint still sleeps in Power's ear, 
 And lavish ministers are misers here. 
 
 Line 298. And lavish ministers are misers here.'] — About 
 three years since, at a time when an attempt was made to 
 raise a subscription for the purpose of commemorating, by a 
 naval pillar, the maritime glories of Great Britain, Mr. Opie, 
 an eminent artist well known to the public, pointed out, through 
 the medium of a newspaper, the inadequacy of such a memo- 
 rial ; and suggested a plan more comprehensive in its objects, 
 and calculated, at a comparatively trifling expence, at once to 
 celebrate the heroism, and encourage the genius of the 
 countiy in a way that would reflect credit on its taste and 
 liberality. 
 
 Mr. Opie, supported by the zealous co-operation of Mr. 
 Flaxman and other members, submitted his ideas to the Royal 
 Academy : that body, conceiving the moment propitious for 
 making an exertion in favour of the arts over which they pre- 
 side, adopted his plan; and, impressed with the danger of total 
 annihilation, to which the failure of all private encouragement 
 had exposed the higher classes of art, presented an address on 
 the subject to their gracious founder and patron, his Majesty. 
 
 This application, the author understands, has not hitherto 
 produced any effect. As his Majesty's beneficent disposition 
 to countenance and promote the advancement of every useful 
 undertaking is well known, and as it is not to be expected, that 
 the private purse of the Sovereign should defray the charges 
 of a plan designed for the attainment of objects peculiarly 
 public and national, we must attribute the unfortunate failure 
 
85 
 
 Say, what avails it, from Italia's plains, 
 Her ransack'd palaces, and plundered fanes, 300 
 That fraud or folly draw delusive stores, 
 And empty Europe's refuse on our shores ? 
 That pedigree'd on proud patrician walls, 
 In cloistered cabinets, and costly halls, 
 The time-touch'd wonders of meridian taste, 305 
 In close-kept solitudes of state are plac'd ? 
 
 of the Academy's endeavours in this instance, to the coldness 
 and indifference of those to whose management the treasures 
 of the state were intrusted : who perhaps conceived it no part 
 of their duty to attend to such applications, and thought that 
 the public money (even in so small a portion as was required 
 to effect the plan proposed) might be better employed, than in 
 cultivating the flowers of taste, encouraging the productions of 
 art, or stimulating by public honours the achievements of pa- 
 triotism. 
 
 Line 306. In close-kept solitudes of state are plac'd.] — It 
 would be worthy the liberality and patriotism of some of our 
 distinguished collectors, to set apart one day in the week, dur- 
 ing the most convenient season of the year, for the untaxed 
 admission to their galleries of every person with the appear- 
 ance of a gentleman. The curiosity of taste is neither so strong, 
 nor so generally diffused among the British public, as to render 
 such an arrangement either prejudicial or incommodious. The 
 
86 
 
 Ir cold and careless, to our country's arts 
 We shut our eyes, our houses, and our hearts; 
 
 mere idle lounger would soon discontinue his visits in pursuit 
 of novel attraction, while the man of taste, and the artist, 
 would frequently enjoy a pleasure, which their admiration and 
 respect would, to a generous mind, abundantly repay. Or 
 should the domestic habits of society in this country, and the 
 contracted scale of our houses, render a general admission so 
 inconvenient as to infringe on private comfort, still means 
 might be adopted to facilitate the admission of those, whose 
 professional studies make such an advantage of the greatest 
 consequence. The President of the Royal Academy, for in- 
 stance, might be empowered to grant cards of access on par- 
 ticular days, to those students and artists who might be desi- 
 rous of such permission, and his character and station would be 
 a sufficient security that the privilege would not be abused. 
 What an advantage to the painter ! during the composition of 
 his work, to have the means of occasional, unceremonious in- 
 tercourse with the old masters ; to have opportunities of refin- 
 ing his taste, of kindling his enthusiasm, and elevating his ideas 
 of perfection, in the unembarrassed contemplation of such ex- 
 amples of art as are to be found in the collections of the late 
 Duke of Bridgewater, Lord Carlisle, Mr. Angerstein, Lord Rad- 
 stock, Mr. William Smith, Mr. Agar, and others. 
 
 This privilege of admission, however, if granted at all, should 
 be allowed to be enjoyed in perfect ease and independence. 
 The artist should be left to himself, to his own observations and 
 
87 
 
 With foreign blooms long faded, fill our bowers, 
 Yet find no fragrance in our native flowers; 310 
 
 reflections. There is no enjoying a picture in peace while the 
 proprietor is expatiating on its beauties. All pleasure is destroy- 
 ed, all improvement prevented, when 
 
 The connoisseur his cabinet displays, 
 And levies heavy penalties of praise ; 
 Exacts your admiration, without end, 
 Watches your eye, nor waits till you commend. 
 
 Neither politeness nor prudence will allow you to dissent, how- 
 ever erroneous you may think his remarks, or misplaced his 
 panegyric ; for in the present day, when old pictures bear a 
 price so extraordinary, to hint a doubt of the various, and often 
 incompatible merits, which the owner of a celebrated work 
 chooses to ascribe to it, seems not only an insult, but an inju- 
 ry, since it tends to depreciate his property, as well as to dis- 
 parage his taste. Criticism may roam at large in the library, 
 and discuss without ceremony the merits and defects of the 
 poet, the historian, and the philosopher ; but in the cabinet of 
 pictures, her privileges are circumscribed ; there " the walls 
 have ears," and no sounds are safe but the echoes of admira- 
 tion. 
 
 In this city alone, there are examples of the old masters of 
 sufficient variety and excellence, to communicate to the 
 student almost as much improvement as perhaps can be ob- 
 tained outside the walls of the Vatican, were the means of 
 
88 
 
 If that high impulse, which the bounding soul 
 
 Of genius urges to its utmost goal, 
 
 The great refuse, nor grant one favouring smile, 
 
 To gild the hope, or glad the heart of toil. 
 
 Their various uses, meaner toils commend, 315 
 
 And commerce finds in every want a friend ; 
 
 Like plants of bold and vigorous growth, they bear 
 
 Spontaneous fruit, and ask but room and air; 
 
 But arts, a tribe of sensitives, demand 
 
 A hot-house culture, and a kinder hand ; 3QQ 
 
 A taste to cherish every opening charm, 
 
 A shade to shelter, and a sun to warm. 
 
 studying the treasures we possess liberally placed within his 
 reach, were they not unfortunately too often 
 
 With selfish zeal, in pride's recesses plac'd, 
 Secluded from the curious eye of taste, 
 Till squandered thousands leave the spendthrift poor, 
 And Coxe, or Christie, break the prison door. 
 
 When a celebrated collection is brought to the hammer, it 
 affords a transient treat to the connoisseur, and particularly 
 to the artist. An auction-room is a privileged place ; a sale 
 of pictures is the painter's Saturnalia, when, like the slaves 
 
89 
 
 Few now the gen'rous spirit feel, or feign, 
 That prides to call forth genius, and sustain; 
 That flies e'en Failure's drooping wing to raise, 325 
 To sooth with kindness, and console with praise. 
 
 amongst the ancient Romans, he may enjoy full liberty of 
 opinion, and speak his mind freely, even of his masters. 
 
 Line 324. That prides to call forth genius, and sustain."] — Mr. 
 West, the able artist who fills* the chair of the Royal Academy, 
 in his last discourse, delivered on the anniversary of the esta- 
 blishment of that institution, observed, " that the encourage- 
 ment extended to the genius of a single living artist in the 
 higher classes of art, though it may produce but one original 
 work, adds more to the celebrity of a people than all the col- 
 lections of accumulated foreign productions." This remark, 
 at all times just, seems to apply with particular force to the 
 peculiar taste of the day ; never was there a time when picture- 
 dealers occupied so much of the public attention, and painters 
 so little ; when there was more disposition to traffic in the arts, 
 and less to cultivate them ; when the possession of celebrated 
 pictures was so much contested, and the protection of native 
 genius so little attended to. Works of art are now not so much 
 objects of taste, as articles of trade ; and a fashionable gallery, 
 or cabinet, is little more than a warehouse of established 
 reputation, in which goods are exposed to view before they are 
 brought to market. Unluckily, however, the living artist is 
 excluded from all share in the profitable speculations of taste, 
 
 * Since the former editions of this work Mr. West has resigned the chair of 
 the Academy. 
 
90 
 
 No learnM Mecsenas fans the Muse's fires * ; 
 
 No Leo lives, no Medici inspires: 
 
 The patron is a name disowned — disgraced j 
 
 A part exploded from the stage of Taste. 330 
 
 for his wares are not in demand : the cast is of no value till 
 the mould is broken: life is an apprenticeship to reputation, 
 which the painter must serve to the last, before his name can 
 be suffered to sound in the firm of virtu, or he can arrive to be 
 made free of the guild. 
 
 " Indignor quidquam reprehendi. non quia crasse 
 Compositum, illepideve putetur, sed quia nuper." 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 Doubtless, many of those persons, who, at an immense ex- 
 pence, form collections of old pictures, are impressed by the 
 conviction, that while they gratify their own taste, they also 
 enrich their country, and take the most effectual means of 
 assisting the efforts of native talent, by introducing the best 
 examples for study and imitation. But though good examples 
 are highly useful in the education of a painter, they will lose 
 much of their beneficial influence on him, if instead of being 
 offered to his emulation with encouraging kindness, they are 
 held out with invidious comparison to his defects ; if they are 
 brought to triumph over him, rather than to assist him ; and 
 operate only, to sharpen the asperity of the critic, and inter- 
 cept the munificence of the patron. 
 
 * Quis tibi Mecaenas ? quis nunc erit aut Proculeius, 
 Aut Fabius ? quis Cotta iterum ? quis Lentulus alter ? 
 
91 
 
 While fierce, from every broken craft supplied, 
 
 Pretenders, arm'd in panoply of pride, 
 
 'Gainst modern merit take the field with scorn, 
 
 And bear down all in our dull sera born ; 
 
 With bigot eyes adore, and beating hearts, 335 
 
 The time-worn relics of departed arts; 
 
 Gem, picture, coin, cameo, statue, bust, 
 
 The furbished fragments of defrauded rust, 
 
 All, worship all, with superstitious care, 
 
 But leave the living genius to despair. 340 
 
 Dug from the tomb of taste-refining time, 
 Each form is exquisite, each block sublime. 
 Or good, or bad, disfigured, or deprav'd, 
 All art, is at its resurrection savM; 
 All crownM with glory in the critic's heav'n, 345 
 Each merit magnified, each fault forgiven*. 
 Taste views indignant pagan rites restor'd, 
 And idol monsters in her shrine ador'd; 
 
 * Ingeniis non ille favet, plauditque sepultis 
 Nostra sed impugnat, nos nostraque lividus odit. 
 
92 
 
 With holy rage each prostrate pedant spurns, 
 And in a Proctor's fate, a Phidias mourns. 350 
 
 Seclude me, Heav'n ! from every light of art, 
 Cloud every joy that Painting can impart! 
 All love of nature, sense of taste confound, 
 And wrap me in Cimmerian gloom around; 
 But never more, in mercy, let me view 355 
 Timander's pictures — and Timander too. 
 'Tis past all human patience to endure, 
 At once the cabinet, and connoisseur, 
 Behold ! how pleas'd the conscious critic sneers, 
 While circling boobies shake their asses ears; 360 
 Applaud his folly, and, to feed his pride, 
 Bray forth abuse on all the world beside ; 
 Hear him, ye gods ! harangue of schools and styles, 
 In pilferM scraps from Walpole and De Piles! 
 Direct the vain spectator's vacant gaze, 365 
 Drill his dull sense, and teach him where to praise; 
 
 Line 350. And in a Proctor's fate a Phidias mourns.] 
 
 Proctor, a young sculptor of uncommon powers, who, a few 
 years ago, died neglected and unknown. 
 
93 
 
 Of every toy, some tale of wonder frame, 
 
 How this from Heavm, or Ottoboni came : 
 
 How that, long pendant on plebeian wall, 
 
 Or lumber'd in some filthy broker's stall, 370 
 
 Lay, lost to fame, till by his taste restor'd, 
 
 Behold the gem — shrin'd, curtain'd, and ador'd. 
 
 Hear him, ye powers of ridicule ! deplore, 
 
 The arts extinguish 'd, and the Muse, no more; 
 
 With shrug superior now in feeling phrase, 375 
 
 Commiserate the darkness of our days; 
 
 Line 568. How this from Heav'n, or Ottoboni camc.~\ — Otto- 
 boni, a celebrated Italian cardinal, collector, and connoisseur : 
 such was the reputation of his taste, that, for many years after 
 his death, no picture was esteemed in the market of virtu, 
 that could not be traced to have been in his collection ; or that 
 was not by some ingenious picture-dealing anecdote connected 
 in some way or other with his name. On the dissolution of the 
 Jesuits, a late Doctor, of high renown in the annals of picture- 
 dealing, expressed himself in the following terms, to an emi- 
 nent artist now living: " The dissolution of the Jesuits! 
 heavens, what an occurrence ! what a bait for the connoisseurs ! ! 
 Oh ! that I were young again ! Sir, the only lucky event that 
 happened in my time, was the death of Cardinal Ottoboni, and 
 I ran his name with success against the field for five and- 
 twenty years." 
 
94 
 
 Now loud against all living merit rage, 
 
 And in one sweeping censure — damn the age. 
 
 Look round his walls — no modern masters there, 
 
 Display the patriot's zeal, or patron's care ; 380 
 
 His Romish taste a century requires, 
 
 To sanctify the merit he admires; 
 
 His heart no love of living talent warms, 
 
 Painting must wear her antiquated charms, 
 
 In clouds of dust and varnish veil her face, 585 
 
 And plead her age, as passport to his grace. 
 
 To critic worship, time's a sacred claim, 
 
 That stocks, with fools, the calendar of fame. 
 
 Line 386. And plead her age, as passport to his grace.'] — To 
 prevent idle conjecture, or absurd misapplication, it may not 
 be improper to state, that the character drawn above is not a 
 portrait: on the contrary, every thing has been studiously 
 avoided which could be suspected of an allusion to any parti- 
 cular person. The features, indeed, like those of the celebrated 
 Helen of Zeuxis, are all derived from nature, in various models ; 
 but the whole face is ideal, and intended to represent the spe- 
 cies, not an individual. 
 
 • Hunc servare modum nostri novere libelli ; 
 Parcere personis, dicere de vitus." martiaj,. 
 
95 
 
 Shame on the man, whatever his rank or state, 
 Scorn of the good, and scandal of the great ; ,390 
 Who callous, cold, with false fastidious eye, 
 The talents of his country can decry; 
 Can see unmoved, her struggling genius rise, 
 Repress the flight, and intercept the prize ; 
 Profuse of fame to art's past efforts roam, 395 
 And leave unhonour'd humble worth at home. 
 Nor less in every liberal mind debas'd, 
 The servile tribe — the tadpole train of Taste, 
 Who crown each block, as Jove in jest decrees, 
 And skip, and squat around such fops as these. 400 
 Wherever power, or pride, or wealth keep court, 
 Behold this fulsome, fawning race resort; 
 A motley group — a party-colour'd pack, 
 Of knave and fool — of quidnunc, and of quack, 
 Of critic sops insipid, cold and vain, 405 
 Done in the drip of some poor painter's brain; 
 Dabblers in science — dealers in virtu, 
 And sycophants of every form and hue. 
 Low artists too, a busy, babbling fry, 
 That frisk and wriggle in a great man's eye, 410 
 
96 
 
 Feed on his smiles, and simpering at his side, 
 Catch the cold drops thatflattVy thaws from pride; 
 A cunning kind of fetch-and-earry fools, 
 The scum of taste, that bubbles up in schools; 
 Savealls of art, that shed a glimmering ray, 415 
 And burn the snuffs their betters cast away; 
 As abject, crouching, void, and vile a train, 
 As wit can well deride, or worth disdain. 
 
 But turn the verse, my Muse, indignant quit 
 These common counterfeits of worth, and wit ; 420 
 This lacker'd coin of critics, clipped, debas'd, 
 The dross and residue of sterling taste; 
 To hail the few, who friendly shine to cheer 
 This graphic gloom, this cold inclement year ; 
 To greet with glowing heart, and grateful lay, 425 
 The Warwicks, Lockes, and Cecils, of the day: 
 
 Line 426. The Warwicks, Lockes, and Cecils, of the day.~\ — At 
 a time when the antipatriotic affectation of criticism considers 
 it a kind of stigma on the taste of a connoisseur, to shew any 
 favour to living talent; or to employ the pencil of pining 
 genius, except for the preservation of family physiognomy in 
 
97 
 
 The Leicester's too, whose liberal spirit glows 
 To pay what patronage to merit owes ; 
 
 the subordinate department of portraits, the author is happy 
 to offer the humble homage of his verse, to those who disdain 
 to found their pretensions ta taste on a contempt for their 
 contemporaries, and do not forget the claims of the living, in 
 their veneration of the dead. The conspicuous characters 
 named above, have sufficiently evinced their favourable dispo- 
 sition to the merits of the day, to justify their selection on the 
 present occasion ; and it is to be hoped, that the patriotic 
 partiality so honourably displayed, will yet ripen to a strength 
 of patronage and protection, which may rescue the interests 
 of the arts from ruin, and succeed in placing them upon a footing 
 at once liberal, national, and secure. 
 
 Lord Warwick, and Mr. Locke, are too well known as the 
 friends of arts and artists, to require any instances of their 
 kindness to be enumerated here. 
 
 The Marquis of Exeter (unfortunately deceased since the 
 lines were written in which his name occurs), by affording to the 
 fertile pencil of Mr. Stothard, on his own terms, a liberal op- 
 portunity of displaying his powers in his noble residence of 
 Burghley, has set an example to the higher orders of the state, 
 as worthy of record as of imitation. 
 
 Among the few individuals of rank and fortune who evince 
 a disposition to cherish the arts of their country, the name of 
 Sir John Leicester should be distinguished with respect: he 
 views with partiality, and collects with pride the flowers of na- 
 tive growth, and the merits of Northcote, Thompson, and Calcott, 
 will justify his taste, while they attest his liberality. 
 
 H 
 
98 
 
 And you, proud Fortune's favourite sons, who guide 
 The helm of trade triumphant o'er the tide, 
 Ye Angersteins! through whose expansive hearts, 
 Britannia's commerce cultivates her arts; 430 
 Who, though well stock'dfromTime's maturing store, 
 Can prize the greener growth of Albion's shore, 
 With fostering care the curling tendril twine, 
 And hope a vintage from the grateful vine. 
 
 Nor, venerable Boydell, thou refuse 435 
 This passing tribute from no venal Muse; 
 
 Line 435. Nor, venerable Boydell, &c] — The claims of the 
 venerable patriarch of public spirit, Alderman Boydell #, rest 
 upon a different, but not less honourable foundation. Whether 
 we consider the gigantic project of the Shakspeare Gallery, as 
 a vast commercial speculation, combining views of laudable 
 and liberal advantage, with the cultivation and advancement 
 of the arts, from which his profits were to be derived ; or whe- 
 ther we look on it, as a plan originating in the patriotic ambi- 
 tion of a man, already by a long course of honourable industry 
 raised above the temptation of interest, and enthusiastically de- 
 termined to risk the accumulations of his life, in an effort to 
 
 * While this work was printing, the worthy Alderman paid the debt of 
 nature. The Shakspeare Gallery did not long survive its founder j and 
 circumstances have attended its dissolution sufficient to discourage in future 
 all similar speculations, and deprive the arts of those resources which the 
 spirit of trade supplied, when the spirit of taste lay torpid, and the spirit of 
 patronage appeared to be extinct. 
 
99 
 
 Who though uncallM her inexperienced hand, 
 To aid the edifice thy spirit planned ; 
 Yet owns thy worth, asserts thy honest claim, 
 And 'mongst the friends of art enrols thy name. 440 
 
 Yet while the Muse's ready wreaths extend, 
 To crown the few whom candour dare commend, 
 
 encourage the depressed genius, and promote the peaceful 
 glories of his country; in either case, whether we view it as 
 arising from the enlightened spirit of trade, or the liberal im- 
 pulse of patriotism, the Shakspeare Gallery, in its origin and 
 its completion, must be an object of interest to every generous 
 mind, and has claims on our admiration, which neither malig- 
 nity can misrepresent, nor prejudice deny. Whatever may be 
 the final result of this nobly conceived scheme of national em- 
 bellishment and splendid poetical illustration ; if we reflect on 
 the talents it has called into action, the persevering spirit with 
 which through the most unpropitious period it has been con- 
 ducted, and the animating impulse it has communicated through 
 all the minor operations of typographic taste, we shall pay our 
 just tribute of applause to the merits of the projector, and hail 
 with respect the name of Boydell, as deserving to be held dear 
 by every friend of art, and to be recorded with honour in the 
 fairest annals of his country. 
 
 Line 442. To crown the few whom candour dare commend."] — 
 Though, unhappily, an ambition to encourage and protect the 
 efforts of rising genius, is not the fashion of the day ; yet the 
 
 H 2 
 
100 
 
 Shall Egerton * depart without a tear ? 
 
 And press in silent state a plumeless bier? 
 
 No, though his tomb no martial glories grace, 445 
 
 No trophies won in wild Ambition's race; 
 
 Though no vain pen on History's pompous page 
 
 Paint the deep statesman to th* astonish'd age; 
 
 Lay open all the labyrinth of his breast — 
 
 What plans he formed — what factions he suppress'd; 
 
 What flames of war broke forth as he desir'd — 
 
 Cool'd as he calm'd, or kindled as he fir'd; 
 
 author would be sorry either to believe, himself, or to impress 
 upon his reader, that there were not many other individuals, 
 whose zeal and liberality form an honourable exception to the 
 general indifference he deplores. He has heard many persons 
 mentioned with respect, as not only distinguished for taste, but 
 as displaying towards the arts of the day, a cordiality of feel- 
 ing, which, if not amounting to patronage and protection, at 
 least shews a friendly interest in their reputation, and advance- 
 ment. In the text, however, he has confined his verse to the 
 few only, of whom such instances of kindness, and encourage- 
 ment to contemporary talents, have been reported to him, as 
 warrant his paying homage under their names, to ail those 
 whose liberal qualities in this respect, may, perhaps, be deser- 
 ving of more particular, as well as more eloquent commenda- 
 tion. 
 
 * The late Duke of Bridgewater. 
 
101 
 
 Yet life's mild arts their spotless ensigns wave, 
 And grateful swains strow garlands on his grave. 
 Though crown'd with all in rank or wealth that 
 charms, 455 
 And lulls th* enfeebled soul in Pleasure's arms, 
 Behold him, yet in man's meridian hour, 
 Fly the false glare of pomp, and pride, and pow'r; 
 
 Line 453. Yet life's mild arts their spotless ensigns wave.] — 
 To the spirit and example of the late Duke of Bridgewater, 
 may in a great measure be attributed the important advan- 
 tages we derive from the extension of our inland navigation. 
 With a zeal and perseverance more than meritorious in persons 
 of his exalted rank, he prosecuted his canal speculations until 
 their success repaid his exertions with interest, and roused the 
 spirit of enterprise and emulation in every part of the country. 
 
 The principal amusement of his leisure in the latter years 
 of his life, was the formation of a collection of pictures, which, 
 in merit, if not in number, may perhaps proudly vie with any 
 private gallery in Europe. But though possessed of the finest 
 examples of the old masters, he was not one of those affected 
 admirers of art, who regard the productions of their own time 
 with indifference or contempt; nor did he conceive it an im- 
 peachment of his taste, to place as an ornament in his collec- 
 tion, a work of ability from the pencil of a living artist (Mr. 
 Turner), though selected at a price, which even the merit of 
 Wilson could never extort from the parsimonious patronage of 
 his day. 
 
102 
 
 Decline the court's intrigues, the senate's strife, 
 To serve his country in secluded life ; 460 
 To ope new arteries of public health, 
 Promote her pride, and circulate her wealth; 
 Call forth a Brindley's genius, and command, 
 To pierce opposing mountains with his wand; 
 Through wondering vales, in liquid course to lead 
 Commercial keels, and navigate the mead; 
 Bid in bright tracks obedient currents glide, 
 And, like a river-god, direct the tide. 
 
 When love of painting (late a passion) came, 
 With kindling zeal he caught the novel flame; 470 
 To joys unfelt before with rapture sprung, 
 Forgot his age, and found he still was young. 
 Though late he fell, had fate deferr'd the blow, 
 And left him yet a few short years below, 
 His country's genius sure, had found a friend, 475 
 Pleas'd to reward, and pow'rful to defend: 
 
 Line 463. Call forth a Brindlexfs genius, &c] — Brindley, a 
 most ingenius mechanic and skilful engineer, employed by the 
 Duke of Bridgewater in planning and executing his operations 
 of inland navigation. 
 
103 
 
 The sons of Taste had shed the grateful tear, 
 And Painting wept the patron, in the peer. 
 
 Gods ! what a glory would invest his name ! 
 What palms perennial spring around his fame! 480 
 Whose gen'rous spirit should our age reprove, 
 And to the living arts extend his love: 
 Who, leaving to the selfish pedant crew, 
 The barren bliss of impotent virtu ; 
 The sterile triumphs which result from taste 485 
 To buried worth in tardy homage plac'd, 
 Should to his cares the nobler task assign, 
 To draw the gems of genius from the mine ; 
 Assist the little lustre life allows, 
 And set them blazing on Britannia's brows! 490 
 
 Give me the critic bred in Nature's school, 
 Who neither talks by rote, nor thinks by rule ; 
 Who feeling's honest dictates still obeys, 
 And dares, without a precedent, to praise ; 
 Whose hardy taste the bigot crowd disclaims, 495 
 That chorus catalogues, and worship names ; 
 
104 
 
 Unbiass'd still to merit fondly turns, 
 Regardless where the flame of genius burns, 
 Whether through Time's long gloom transmitted 
 bright, 
 
 Or pour'd a later lustre on the sight; 500 
 From Rome's proud dome it dart a beam divine, 
 Or burst spontaneous from a Cornish mine. 
 
 Where judgment cool, correct, yet kind reveals, 
 A head that studies, and a heart that feels; 
 Where zeal, with sense attemper'd, we discern, 505 
 A skill to teach, and yet a love to learn ; 
 An eye, to truth attracted strong, a mind, 
 By Nature vigorous, and by Art refinM; 
 Slave to no system — bigot to no school, 
 Consulting reason, while respecting rule ; 510 
 Aw'd by no pedant — echo to no peer, 
 In censure civil, and in praise sincere; 
 A soul to rescue worth by pride abas'd, 
 At once the patriot, and the man of taste ; 
 There, bow ye sons of Art ! in homage down; 515 
 Respect the patron, and the critic crown. 
 
105 
 
 Yet rarely, though such merits now combine, 
 And stars like these are seldom known to shine; 
 Ye generous youths ! by Nature's bounty grac'd ! 
 Whose throbbing hearts have heard the call of Taste, 
 With honest ardour in the lists of Fame, 521 
 Risk every hope, and rival every claim. 
 What though the age on Art unfriendly lowers ! 
 And public apathy benumbs her powers; 
 Though Painting still deplores her luckless fate, 525 
 Shut from the church, and slighted by the state: 
 
 Line 526. Shut from the church, and slighted by the state.] — 
 While the contest between the two greater sects of Christians 
 was comparatively new and unabated, it was perhaps, not 
 wonderful that the zeal of the reformer sometimes led him into 
 extremes, and prompted him to reject with horror many 
 things indifferent in themselves, on no other ground than be- 
 cause they were sanctioned by those from whose principles in 
 other respects he so earnestly dissented. From this over- 
 strained spirit of opposition at the outset of the Reformation, 
 it resulted, that our churches were stripped of their ornaments, 
 and pictures expelled as objects of Pagan idolatry and Popish 
 superstition : the house of God was reduced to the nakedness 
 of bare walls ; and though the art of architecture was allowed 
 to be displayed in all its capricious varieties, and that of sculp- 
 ture occasionally called in, to adorn the shrine of the hero and 
 the saint, yet the art of painting was proscribed as a profane 
 
106 
 
 Denied each nobler theme the soul that fires, 
 That pious zeal, or patriot pride inspires ; 
 
 abomination, unworthy of contributing its portion of pious 
 decoration to the temple, or even furnishing a frontispiece to 
 the book of Common Prayer #. But surely, in an age like the 
 present (amongst the dangers of which, certainly those result- 
 ing from idolatry and superstition are not much to be appre- 
 hended), some relaxation of this puritanical prejudice might be 
 admitted, without any injury to religion, and with much 
 advantage to the arts. As there appears no very good reason 
 why a picture should be esteemed more profane than a statue ; 
 why a prophet in fresco should be considered a less becoming 
 ornament to a cathedral than a statesman in stone ; or why 
 the acts of the Apostles should not be commemorated in our 
 temples, as well as the exploits of kings and conquerors; 
 surely, it would not be inconsistent with the purest piety to 
 take off this long interdict of taste, and admit painting once 
 more within the pale of the church. 
 
 It has been observed of our national mode of worship, as 
 well as of our national manners, that there is a coldness and 
 reserve about it, an unalluring formality, a repelling plainness 
 but little calculated to excite fervour or to fix attention. 
 Though it may be unworthy of rational piety and a pure faith, 
 to prop their interests by meretricious aids, and the author is 
 far from recommending such assistance, yet in loose and neg- 
 ligent times it may not be unwise to use every innocent means 
 
 * Queen Elizabeth is reported to have reprimanded severely one of her 
 chaplains, for having presumed to present to her a Prayer Book with cuts. 
 
107 
 
 Though Fortune's self with Fame confederate flies, 
 To crown th* overvalued skill of foreign skies; 530 
 
 of animating indifference, to zeal ; and by furnishing the scene 
 of our devotions with objects to stimulate our feelings, and 
 illustrate the events of sacred history, attract those by taste 
 who might not be influenced by piety. A judicious representa- 
 tion of some of those striking incidents which are recorded in 
 the pages of Holy Writ, might warm the heart to a sentiment 
 of devotion, when the best pronounced prayer from the read- 
 ing-desk, or the most eloquent discourse from the pulpit, might 
 be delivered without effect * : 
 
 Segnius irritant animos demissa per»aures, 
 Quam quag sunt cculis subjecta fidelibus. 
 
 A few years ago, a proposal was made by some of our most 
 eminent artists, to furnish a number of appropriate pictures 
 for the decoration of St. Paul's Cathedral ; but, unfortunately, 
 it was not approved by those persons whose consent was 
 essential to the plan. However, as an example has been set 
 by the august head of the church in his Majesty's chapel at 
 Windsor, and also, in the chapel of Greenwich Hospital, with- 
 out any apparent ill consequence, it is to be hoped that the 
 remains of this conventicle spirit will soon be exhausted. Per- 
 haps the decoration of our religious temples may yet call forth 
 the genius of a British Raphael or Michael Angelo, and become 
 so productive a source of encouragement to the arts, as to 
 
 * " Pictura, tacens opus et habitus semper ejusdem, sic in intimos pene- 
 trat affectus, ut ipsam vim dicendi nonnumquam superare videatur." 
 
 aUINTILIAN. 
 
108 
 
 Still undismay'd, let Hope her light impart, 
 And bold Ambition brave the ills of Art. 
 
 Graced by the Muse with all her gifts divine, 
 Or pious led by Taste to Nature's shrine ; 
 The soul to purer worship rais'd — refiVd, 535 
 Disdains the common idols of mankind ; 
 Exults in joys to grosser minds unknown, 
 A wealth exhaustless, and a world her own. 
 
 The painter's eye, to sovereign Beauty true, 
 Marks every grace, and heightens every hue; 540 
 Follows the fair through all her forms and wiles, 
 Studies her airs, and triumphs in her smiles; 
 Imagines wondrous scenes as Fancy warms, 
 And revels, rich in all Creation's charms. 
 
 authorize us to apply the words of Juvenal, and say of the na- 
 tional taste, 
 
 " Et quam votiva testantur fana tabella 
 Plurima : pictores quis nescit ab Iside pasci ?" 
 
 Line 544. And revels, rich in all Creation's charms.'] — What 
 has been said of madness, may also be said of painting — there 
 
109 
 
 His art her homage, and his soul her shrine, 545 
 She rules his life, and regulates his line; 
 
 is a pleasure in it which none but painters know. The painter 
 enjoys moments of delight in the practice of his art (if he truly 
 loves it), which more than compensate for its anxieties, and 
 cheer with a ray of consolation even the gloom of neglect and 
 obscurity. 
 
 Accustomed to direct his attention to all that is picturesque 
 and beautiful in nature or in art, in form, character, and senti- 
 ment, his ideas are exalted, his feelings are refined beyond 
 the comprehension of common minds, or the attainment of 
 ordinary occupations ; he is, as it were, let into a new world, 
 and looks around him with an eye conscious of the wonders he 
 beholds; he is an enlightened spectator in the vast theatre of 
 the universe, under whose critical eye the great drama of 
 human life is performed; he observes with discriminating 
 accuracy the actions, passions, and characters, the manners, 
 scenery, and situations ; and though the wants of nature, and 
 the duties of society, oblige him to mingle occasionally in the 
 busy group before him, yet the world is not his element ; he 
 is not at home on the stage of active life ; his mind is ever 
 struggling to escape the claims of common incident, and soar- 
 ing to those heights of abstracted contemplation, from which 
 he may view the actors and the scene with the calmness of a 
 looker-on. 
 
 The painter derives pleasure from a thousand sources which 
 are not only unknown to 
 
 " The plodding herd of coarser clay compos'd," 
 
110 
 
 While rapt to frenzy as the goddess fires, 
 He pours to view the visions she inspires. 
 
 but even generally unappreciated by the most enlightened 
 minds devoted to other occupations ; his art may be said to 
 furnish him with a new sense, through which new qualities ap- 
 pear to exist in things; objects are invested with new splen- 
 dours, and the whole face of nature seems to wear an appro- 
 priate charm, whether dressed 
 
 " In smiles or frowns — in terrors or in tears." 
 
 Beyond the poet in the strength of his conceptions, as well 
 as in the force and fidelity with which they are expressed, he 
 is more alive to what passes around him; external objects 
 take a stronger hold of his imagination; the impressions of 
 beauty, of grandeur, of sublimity, sink deeper into his soul. 
 His art, estimated according to its noblest examples, considered 
 in every view of mental or manual ability, appears to be the 
 most arduous enterprise of taste, and, without injustice to other 
 pursuits, may be termed the most extraordinary operation of 
 human genius ; in its theory and principles unfolding the most 
 subtle refinements of the intellectual power, in its practice 
 displaying the most dexterous achievement of mechanical 
 skill. 
 
 The only character indeed, that can pretend to rank with 
 the painter in the great scale of human ingenuity, is the poet : 
 but he has not been satisfied with equality, he has commonly 
 contended for a higher station ; and having been usually judge 
 and jury in the cause, he has alwaj's taken care to decide it in , 
 his own favour. Yet an impartial investigation, by abilities 
 
Ill 
 
 Presented to the cultur'd eye of Taste, 
 No rock is barren, and no wild is waste; 550 
 
 competent to the task, of the powers displayed in both arts ; 
 of the qualities from nature and education which they respec- 
 tively require, would perhaps amend the record, if not reverse 
 the decree. What is there of intellectual in the operations of 
 the poet, which the painter does not equal ? what is there of 
 mechanical which he does not surpass ? He also is one " cui 
 sit ingenium, cui mens divinior." The " os magna sonaturum," 
 indeed, is not his ; but he has a language more general — more 
 eloquent — more animated ; as much more arduous in its attain- 
 ment, as it is more extraordinary in its effect. Where their 
 arts resemble, the painter keeps his level with the poet; where 
 they differ, he takes a more elevated ground. 
 
 The advantage which poetry possesses over painting, in con- 
 tinued narration and successive impression, cannot be advanced 
 as a peculiar merit of the poet, since it results from the nature 
 of language, and is common to prose. 
 
 The eye of the painter is required to be as much more sensi- 
 ble and acute than the eye of the poet, as the accuracy of him 
 who imitates should exceed that of him who only describes. 
 W T hat is the verbal expression of a passion, compared to its 
 visible presence \ the narration of an action, to the action itself 
 brought before your view ? What are the " verba ardentia" 
 of the poet, to the breathing beauties, the living lustre of the 
 pencil, rivalling the noblest productions of nature, expressing 
 the characteristics of matter and mind, the powers of soul, the 
 perfection of form, the brightest bloom of colour, the golden 
 
112 
 
 No shape uncouth, or savage, but in place, 
 Excites an interest, or assumes a grace ; 
 
 glow of light? Can the airy shadows of poetical imagery be 
 compared to the embodied realities of art ? 
 
 Where the poet cursorily observes, the painter studies in- 
 tensely; what the one carries loosely in his memory, the 
 other stamps upon his soul. The forms and combinations of 
 things, the accidents of light and colour, the relations of 
 distance and degree, the passions, proportions, and properties 
 of men and animals ; all the phenomena of " the visible diurnal 
 sphere," the painter must treasure up in his mind in clear, dis- 
 tinct, indelible impressions, and with the powers of a magician 
 call them up at a moment's warning, like " spirits from the 
 vasty deep" of his imagination, 
 
 " To do his bidding, and abide his will." 
 
 From the nature of the medium through which the poet ope- 
 rates, he has an advantage over the painter which considerably 
 facilitates his progress. As verse is constructed of language 
 modified by number and measure, the poet may be said to 
 pursue, in some degree, a preparatory course of study from 
 his cradle ; he never talks but he may be considered as sharp- 
 ening his tools, and collecting his materials; his instrument 
 is never out of his hands, and whether he reads, writes, or con- 
 verses, he exercises his faculties in a way that appears to have 
 a direct reference to his art, and to be a prelude to his per- 
 formance. 
 
 The painter, on the other hand, makes use of a medium that 
 has no analogy to speech, no connexion with any of his ordinary 
 
113 
 
 Whether the year's successive seasons roll, 
 Or Proteus passion paint the varying soul; 
 
 habits or acquirements ; his art speaks a language of the most 
 uncommon construction, and most comprehensive influence ; 
 demanding the unremitting application of a life to produce that 
 facility of expression — that fluency of graphic utterance, by 
 which only, he can hope to address himself effectually to the 
 passions and understandings of men. 
 
 If to become familiar with the writings of the ancients, to 
 comprehend their beauties, and compose in their language, be 
 the proudest attainments of the scholar and the poet; how 
 much more worthy of admiration is the skill of him who pours 
 forth his ideas in the glowing language of Nature ! who becomes 
 familiar with all her beauties, who learns by heart all her cha- 
 racters, though numerous and varied, to an extent that reduces 
 the amplitude of the Chinese tongue to a contracted alphabet > 
 and who can trace them through all their combinations, from 
 the simplest blade of grass in the field, to the most complex 
 example of her power, in that alpha and omega of her hand — 
 the hieroglyphic miracle, man. 
 
 Such instances of premature excellence as we so often see 
 with surprise in the other pursuits of genius, are entirely un- 
 known in the annals of painting; the difficulties of his art, 
 while they condemn the painter to unremitting exertion, at 
 least spare him the mortification of finding himself outdone by 
 rivals from the school-room or the nursery: no spring of 
 inspired infancy, no sallies of premature vigour, can snatch 
 from his astonished hopes those wreaths which are never yielded 
 but to the patient energies of time and toil. 
 
 The citadel of art is not to be taken by a coup-de-main ; n© 
 i 
 
114 
 
 Whether, apart considered, or combin'd, 555 
 The forms of matter, and the traits of mind ; 
 Nature, exhaustless still, has power to warm, 
 And every change of scene a novel charm. 
 The dome-crown'd city, or the cottagM plain, 
 The rough cragg'd mountain, or tumultuous main ; 
 The temple rich in trophied pride array'd, 561 
 Or mouldering in the melancholy shade ; 
 
 forced march of the faculties can surprise it; we must besiege 
 it in form, proceed by regular approaches, and depend more on 
 persevering vigilant investment, than sudden or violent assault. 
 
 The head and the hand are required to act with such equal 
 influence, the intellectual and mechanical to combine in such 
 cordial co-operation, that the most exalted genius must submit 
 in the arts, to be indebted to long and laborious application for 
 those powers which no precocious ability can attain. 
 
 If we remark the different periods at which poetry and 
 painting have respectively adorned the progress of society, it 
 may still farther illustrate the characters of the two arts. Poetry 
 appears to be the first powerful product of human genius #, 
 painting, the last and most delicate of its offspring. The one is 
 a plant that shoots up, often to its greatest luxuriance in the 
 open field of society; the other, a flower never produced till 
 the soil has been long laboured and purified — till the field has 
 been converted into a garden. 
 
 * Voltaire, Age of Louis XIV. remarks, " Such has been the fate of the 
 human mind in all countries, that verse has every where been the first child 
 of genius, and the parent of eloquence." 
 
115 
 
 The spoils of tempest, or the wrecks of time, 
 The earth abundant, and the heaven sublime; 
 All, to the painter purest joys impart, 565 
 Delight his eye, and stimulate his art. 
 
 From sense reclaimed to bliss of nobler birth, 
 He envies not the bustling sons of earth, 
 Who anxious climb the heights of wealth and power, 
 The care-cloth'd pageants of a restless hour ; 570 
 For him, unlock the springs of finer joy, 
 The stores of soul — the sweets that never cloy ; 
 
 Poetry attained to its greatest perfection in times compara- 
 tively simple and rude, when man was little more than emerg- 
 ing from the shepherd to the agricultural state ; Hesiod poured 
 forth his strains while tending his flocks on Mount Helicon, 
 and Homer exhausted all the treasures of the muse some ages 
 before the combined operations of nature and cultivation had 
 produced an Apelles, a Parrhasius, or a Zeuxis. 
 
 The works of taste seem to be performed by the last and 
 highest process of the human intellect, when in the full maturity 
 and expansion of its powers, sifted and refined through a long 
 succession of ages : they are enjoyments only to be obtained 
 when the full supply of all our coarser necessities has impelled 
 us to look for higher gratification ; when long possession of the 
 useful has excited a demand for the ornamental, and ease has 
 left us leisure for elegance. 
 
 Great poets, like the stars of the morning, are often seen to 
 
116 
 
 Nature for him, unfolds her fairest clay, 
 For him, puts on her picturesque array ; 
 Beneath his eye new-brightens all her charms, 575 
 And yields her blushing bea.uties to his arms: 
 His prize, and praise, pursu'd in shades or crowds; 
 He fancies prodigies, and peoples clouds; 
 Arrests in rapid glance each fleeting form, 
 Loves the mild calm, and studies in the storm. 
 
 shine in the early dawn of cultivation ; great painters gild the 
 horizon of society only in its meridian blaze. 
 
 The influence of the poet is more general, more command- 
 ing, more important in the great concerns of life : but the task 
 of the painter appears more arduous, is more out of the high 
 road of human ability, and demands a more extraordinary 
 combination of natural and acquired powers. 
 
 The painter may be said to unite the talents of the poet and 
 the actor; he composes the scene, and fills up the characters 
 of the drama ; he realizes the visions of fancy, and not only 
 recalls the exploits of antiquity, but revives the heroes by whom 
 they were performed. 
 
 His, are the superiorities of imitation over description — of 
 sensation over reflection: he writes in the characters of nature 
 the language of action and expression, and approaches nearest 
 to the powers of the Creator in the noblest imitation of his 
 works. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 C. Whittmgham, Printer, Dean Street. 
 
Books lately published for 
 
 John Murray, London, 
 And Arch. Constable and Co. Edinburgh. 
 
 *• THE LIFE and WRITINGS of MICHEL 
 ANGELO BUONARROTI, comprising his Poetry 
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IIS 
 
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119 
 
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120 
 
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121 
 
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122 
 
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123 
 
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 Contents: Of Literary Men; Of Authors; Men of 
 
124 
 
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