hayley.

ESSAY ON PAINTING;
Ep. I. v. 21—155.

Painting, fweet Nymph now leaves in lifeles

trance

Exhaufted Italy and tinfel France,
And fees in Britain, with exulting eyes,
Her vot'ries prosper, and her glories rise.
Yet tho', my friend, thy art is thus careft,
And with the homage of the public blest,
And flourishes with growing beauty fair,
The child of Majefty's adoptive care,
The youthful artist still is doom`t to feel
Obftruction's chilling hand, that damps his zeal:
Th' imperious voice of Vanity and Pride
Bids him from Fancy's region turn aside,
And quit the magic of her fcene, to trace
The vacant lines of fome unmeaning face:
E'en in this work his wifhes ftill are croft,
And all the efforts of his art are lost;
For when the canvas, with the mirror's truth,
Reflects the perfect form of age or youth,
The fond affections of the partial mind
The eye of judgment with delufion blind:
Each mother bids him brighter tints employ,
And give new spirit to her booby boy;
Nor can the painter, with his utmost art,
Express the image in the lover's heart:
Unconscious of the change the feasons bring,
Autumnal beauty afks the rofe of spring,
And vain felf-love, in every age the fame,
Will fondly urge fome vifionary claim.
The luckiefs painter, deftin'd to submit,
Mourns the loft likenefs which he once had hit,
And, doom'd to groundlefs cenfure, bears alone
The grievous load of errors not his own,

Nor

Nor is Pride, or Folly's vain command,

That only fetters his creative hand;
At Fal hinon's nod he copies as they pass
Each quaint reflection from her crowded glass.
The formal coat, with interfecting line,
Mars the free graces of his fair defign;
The towering cap he marks with like distress,
And all the motley mafs of female drefs.
The hoop extended with enormous fize,
The corks that like a promontory rife;
The ftays of deadly fteel, in whofe embrace
The tyrant Fashion tortures injur'd Grace.
But Art, defpairing over shapes like these
To caft an air of elegance and eale,

-

Invokes kind Fancy's aid the comes to spread
Her magic spells the Gothic forms are fled;
And fee, to crown the painter's just defire,
Her free pofitions, and her light attire!
Th' ambitious artift wifhes to purfue
This brilliant plan with more extensive view,
And with adopted character to give
A lafting charm to make the portrait live;
All points of art by one nice effort gain,
Delight the learned, and content the vain;
Make hiftory to life new value lend,
And in the comprehenfive picture blend
The ancient hero with the living friend.

Hayley.

Moft faire device! but, ah! what foes to fenfe,
What broods of motley monsters rife from hen-
ce!"

The ftrange pretenfions of each age and fex
Thefe plans of fancy and of tafte perplex;
For male and female, to themselves unknown,
Demand a character unlike their own,
Till oft the painter to this quaint distress
Prefers the awkward chapes of common drefs.
Sweet girls, of mild and penfive foftness, choose
The fportive emblems of the comic Mufe;
And fprightly damfels are inclin d to borrow
The garb of penitence, and tears of forrow:

Beisp. Samml. 3. B.

While

hayley. While awkward pride, tho' fafe from war's

alarms,

Round his plump body buckles ancient arms,
And, from an honeft justice of the peace,
Starts up at once a demi-god of Greece;
Too firm of heart by ridicule to fall,
The finifh'd hero crowns his country hall,
Ordain'd to fill, if fire his glory fpare,
The lumber garret of his wifer heir.
Not lefs abfurd to flatter NERO's eyes
Arofe the portrait of coloffal fize:

Twice fifty feet th' enormous fheet was fpreat,
To lift o'er gazing flaves the monster's head,
When impious Folly fway'd Oppreffion's rod,
And fervile Rome ador'd the mimic God.

Think not, my friend, with fupercilious air,
I rank the portrait as beneath thy care,
Bleft be the pencil! which from death can fave
The femblance of the virtuous, wife, and brave;
That youth and emulation ftill may gaze
On thofe inspiring forms of ancient days,
And, from the force of bright example bold,
Rival their worth, „, and be what they behold."
Bleft be the pencil! whofe confoling pow'r,
Soothing foft Friendf hip in her penfive hour,
Dispels the cloud, with melancholy fraught,
That abfence throws upon her tender thought.
Bleft be the pencil! whofe enchantment gives
To wounded Love the food on which he lives.
Rich in this gift, tho' cruel ocean bear
The youth to exile from his faithful fair,
He in fond dreams hangs o'er her glowing cheek,
Still owns her prefent, and ftill hears her speak:
Oh! LOVE, it was thy glory to impart
Its infant being to this magic art!
Infpir'd by thee, the foft Corinthian maid
Her graceful lover's fleeping form portray'd:"
Her boding heart his near departure knew,
Yet long'd to keep his image in her view:

Pleas'd

Pleas'd fhe beheld the steady shadow fall
By the clear lamp upon the even wall:
The line fhe trac'd with fond precision true,
And, drawing, doated on the form fhe drew;
Nor, as the glow'd with no forbidden fire,
Conceal'd the fimpel picture from her fire:
His kindred fancy, ftill to nature juít,
Copied her line, and form'd the mimic bust.
Thus from thy power, infpiring LOVE, we trace
The modell'd image, and the pencil'd face!

We pity Genius, when, by interest led,
His toils but reach the femblance of a head;
Yet are thofe cenfures too fevere and vain,
That fcorn the Portrait as the Painter's bane.
Tho' up the mountain winds the arduous road
That leads to pure Perfection's bright abode,
In humbler walks fome tempting laurels grow,
Some flowers are gather'd in the vale below:
Youth on the plain collects increasing force,
To climb the steep in his meridian courfe.
While Nature fees her living models share
The rifing artift's unremitting care,
She on his mind her every charm imprints,
Her eafy postures, and her perfect tints
Till his quick pencil, in maturer hour,
Becomes her rival in creative power.

hayley.

hayley.

ESSAY ON HISTORY;

Ep. III. v. 191-254.

Far other views the liberal Genius fire
Whofe toils to pure Hiftoric praife, aspire,
Nor Moderation's dupe, nor Faction's brave,
Nor Guilt's apologist, nor Flattery's flave:
Wife, but not cunning; temperate, not cold;
Servant of Truth, and in that just controul
By which mild Nature fways the manly soul,
And Reafon's philantropic fpirit draws
To Virtue's intereft, and Freedom's caufe;
Thofe great ennoblers of the human name,
Pure fprings of Power, of Happiness, and Fame!
To teach their influence, and fpread their fway,
The juft Hiftorian winds his toilfome way;
From filent darkness, creeping o'er the earth,
Redeems the finking trace of useful worth;
In Vice's bofom marks the latent thorn,
And brands that public peft with public fcorn.
A lively teacher in a moral fchool!

In that great office fteady, clear, and cool!
Pleas'd to promote the welfare of mankind,
And by informing meliorate the mind!
Such the bright tafk committed to his care!
Boundless its ufe; but its completion rare.

Critics have faid. Tho' high th' Hiftorian's charge

His Laws are fimple tho' his Province large;
Two obvious rules enfure his full fuccefs
To speak no Fallehood; and no Truth suppress:
Art muft to other works a luftre lend,
But Hiftory pleases, howfoe'er it's penn'd."

Perchance in ruder periods; but in thofe,
Where all the luxury of Learning flows,

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