By Author [ A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  Q  R  S  T  U  V  W  X  Y  Z |  Other Symbols ]
  By Title [ A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  Q  R  S  T  U  V  W  X  Y  Z |  Other Symbols ]
  By Language
all Classics books content using ISYS

Download this book: [ ASCII | HTML | PDF ]

Look for this book on Amazon

We have new books nearly every day.
If you would like a news letter once a week or once a month
fill out this form and we will give you a summary of the books for that week or month by email.

Title: A Pindarick Ode on Painting - Addressed to Joshua Reynolds, Esq.
Author: Morrison, Thomas, 1705-1778
Language: English
As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available.

*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "A Pindarick Ode on Painting - Addressed to Joshua Reynolds, Esq." ***

[In the Ode, all dashes were printed as groups of 2-5 hyphens. This
format has been retained. Brackets are in the original unless otherwise

Joshua Reynolds was knighted in 1769, two years after this work was

  The Augustan Reprint Society



  _Addressed to Joshua Reynolds, Esq._


  With a preface by
  Frederick W. Hilles
  and a biographical introduction by
  J. T. Kirkwood

  Publication Number 37

  Los Angeles
  William Andrews Clark Memorial Library
  University of California


  H. RICHARD ARCHER, _Clark Memorial Library_
  RICHARD C. BOYS, _University of Michigan_
  RALPH COHEN, _University of California, Los Angeles_
  VINTON A. DEARING, _University of California, Los Angeles_


  W. EARL BRITTON, _University of Michigan_


  EMMETT L. AVERY, _State College of Washington_
  BENJAMIN BOYCE, _University of Nebraska_
  LOUIS I. BREDVOLD, _University of Michigan_
  JOHN BUTT, _King's College, University of Durham_
  JAMES L. CLIFFORD, _Columbia University_
  ARTHUR FRIEDMAN, _University of Chicago_
  EDWARD NILES HOOKER, _University of California, Los Angeles_
  LOUIS A. LANDA, _Princeton University_
  SAMUEL H. MONK, _University of Minnesota_
  ERNEST MOSSNER, _University of Texas_
  JAMES SUTHERLAND, _Queen Mary College, London_
  H. T. SWEDENBERG, JR., _University of California, Los Angeles_


  EDNA C. DAVIS, _Clark Memorial Library_


The poem here reprinted has remained unread and, with a single
exception, apparently unnoticed from the day it was published until the
present. It is printed from a copy which I acquired many years ago at a
London bookstore and which for a while I thought unique. I did not find
it listed in the catalogues of the chief libraries of England or
America, nor in the various books on anonymous publications. I have
found no mention of it in the newspapers and magazines of the time, no
mention of it in contemporary letters or diaries. The one man in England
who took the trouble to record the ode for posterity was, as might be
expected, Horace Walpole, who in his manuscript Books of Materials
merely noted that the poem had been published in 176_8_ (_Anecdotes of
Painting ... Volume the Fifth_, ed. Hilles and Daghlian, Yale University
Press, 1937). When challenged to locate Walpole's copy of the ode,
the greatest of modern collectors was able, after perhaps forty-five
seconds, to say not only that it was in the Houghton Library at Harvard
but that on the title in Walpole's hand was the information that the
poem was published on the sixteenth of May, a fact which would otherwise
be unknown. A third copy was in the possession of the late Professor
Heidbrink of Northwestern, inscribed in a contemporary hand "T. M.,
M.A." and thus, possibly, the author's own. There are, then, three known
copies extant. Doubtless others will be found, bound up with pamphlets
of the same vintage, as yet uncatalogued.

What Walpole did not know was the name of the author, and quite possibly
the ode would have remained unread and unnoticed for another two
centuries had Mr. Kirkwood not brought to light the letters which are
first published in the introduction that follows. From these letters and
a few known facts the history of the ode seems clear enough. Reynolds
had a number of relatives living in Great Torrington. In the summer of
1762 when he and Dr. Johnson went to Devonshire they were entertained by
Morrison. Johnson's published letters prove that he did not forget
Morrison, and Reynolds was soon painting the portrait of Morrison's
daughter. In the summer of 1766 Morrison sent his ode to Reynolds. The
following January he learned that Johnson, "as severe a Critic as old
Dennis," praised it and ordered it to be published. Reynolds himself
must have arranged for the publication.

The publisher selected was William Griffin, who a few years later was to
bring out some of Sir Joshua's _Discourses_. The work of the printer was
only moderately well done. It will be noted that _whose_ (second line of
stanza V) is obviously a misprint for _whole_, that the second line has
dropped out of stanza XXXIV (Mr. Kirkwood ingeniously suggests that
Morrison wrote: "for every trifler's breast/Is by the hope of future
fame possest"), and that in two places the number of a stanza has been
omitted. And yet the ode, which is physically thinner as well as
historically and aesthetically inferior to Gray's famous odes, is priced
at 1/6, whereas the Strawberry Hill edition of Gray's _Odes_ (1757) sold
for but a shilling.

Clearly Morrison was not influenced by, if familiar with, _The Progress
of Poesy_ and _The Bard_. His ode is Pindaric in the late
seventeenth-century sense. In his brief preface he explains that he has
sought to please us "with a little variety of wild music," believing
"that the perpetual recurrence of the same measure in such a
multiplicity of stanzas would have been rather languid and fatiguing."
An examination of the poem shows that Morrison has carried his desire
for variety to the extreme. The poem consists of thirty-five stanzas,
not one of which repeats both the metrical pattern and rhyme scheme of
any other. The stanzas range from six to eighteen lines in length, and
the lines themselves from four short syllables to the long Alexandrine.
At times one has the feeling that this love of changing rhythms and
rhymes has improperly warped the meaning of a given passage.

The author shows his familiarity with the standard books on aesthetics.
In _Idler_ No. 76, published in 1759, Reynolds laughed at those who by
mastering a few phrases posed as connoisseurs. He introduced a gentleman
who had just returned from Italy, "his mouth full of nothing but the
grace of _Raffaelle_,... and the sublimity and grand contorno of
_Michael Angelo_." This gentleman criticised a Vandyck because it
"had not the flowing line," and of "St. Paul preaching" said, "what an
addition to that nobleness could _Raffaelle_ have given, had the art of
contrast been known in his time! but above all, the flowing line."
Morrison is familiar with the jargon, as is seen throughout the ode. At
the beginning he displays wit in applying these phrases not to painting
but to his verse:

  With my easy flowing line
  To unite correctness of design.

And at the end he rather neatly twists the famous statement of Appelles
into a justification for his writing a poem to add to the reputation of
a great painter.

The ode falls into two roughly equal parts. In the first half the poet
describes specific examples of what he calls History and Landskip. The
battle painting sounds like something by Il Borgognone, the crucifixion
perhaps by Guido Reni. The other painters are named--Vanderveld and,
inevitably, Claude. The late Miss Manwaring would not have been
surprised to learn that more space is devoted to Claude than to the
others. Then almost precisely at the half-way point a pleasing trance is
interrupted by the portrait of a "hoary sage," perhaps, Mr. Kirkwood
suggests, the portrait Reynolds had recently completed of the Rev.
Zachariah Mudge, then seventy-two years of age, who had been since 1737
a fellow prebendary of Morrison's at Exeter, and whom Reynolds described
as "the wisest man he had ever met." From this point on the poet
addresses Reynolds and incidentally describes with skill two of his most
popular portraits, "Lady Sarah Bunbury sacrificing to the Graces"
(exhibited in 1765) and "Garrick between Tragedy and Comedy" (exhibited
in 1762). Garrick was then at the height of his fame, and this was the
most notable of the many portraits painted of him. Lady Sarah, "the
bright Lenox" of stanza XXIII, was equally celebrated in her sphere.
Among the bridesmaids at the wedding of George III she was, in Walpole's
opinion, the "chief angel." "With neither features nor air, nothing ever
looked so charming as Lady Sarah Lenox; she has all the glow of beauty
peculiar to her family." She was the great granddaughter of Charles II;
hence Morrison's _regal_. And in the poem as in the painting she is
feeding the flame which does honor to the Graces.

Johnson's hostility to "our Pindarick madness" is well known. The "first
and obvious defect" of Dryden's _Threnodia_ "is the irregularity of its
metre." The "lax and lawless versification" of this type of poetry,
he wrote in the _Life of Cowley_, "concealed the deficiencies of the
barren, and flattered the laziness of the idle." One cannot but wonder
therefore at his praise of Morrison's ode. To be sure, Reynolds quotes
Johnson as pronouncing it "superior to any Poem _of the kind_ that has
been publish'd these many years," and Johnson may well have considered
praise of this sort as he did lapidary inscriptions. It may be worth
noting, however, that none of his recorded comments on Pindaric verse
antedate the publication of this ode. Conceivably he himself was unaware
of his hostility until, more than ten years later, he was forced to
criticise the poets who made the English Pindaric popular.

Perhaps too by ordering its publication he was saying indirectly what he
had already expressed in many of his writings, for example in _Rambler_
No. 23: "the publick, which is never corrupted, nor often deceived, is
to pass the last sentence upon literary claims." If this is so, a series
like the Augustan Reprints necessarily deals with literary failures. And
yet Morrison's ode is well worth reading today as a pleasing example of
what I somewhat fearsomely term the baroque, of what the cultured
gentleman of that time regarded as a token of good taste. Long dormant,
it is here given new life. Who knows but that the prophecy made by
Morrison at the end of the poem may after all be fulfilled:

    In the long course of rolling years,
    When all thy labour disappears,
  Yet shall this verse descend from age to age,
    And, breaking from oblivion's shade,
  Go on, to flourish while thy paintings fade.

Frederick W. Hilles

Yale University


Mr. Kirkwood has sent me information, too late to be incorporated in the
preface, which adds to, and in an important way corrects, what I have

In the Print Room of the British Museum there is an engraving by James
Watson "From an Original Picture by Vandevelde, in the Possession of Mr.
Reynolds." Every detail in the engraving tallies with Morrison's
word-painting of the Vandevelde. Furthermore the description of a
landscape by Claude (a View near Castle Gondolfo) in the sale of Sir
Joshua's collection of paintings in 1795 suggests that this was the
Claude Morrison had in mind when writing his ode. In other words, it is
probable that all the paintings discussed in the poem had been seen by
Morrison in Reynolds's house.

As to matters of fact, the ode, it turns out, was not unnoticed in its
day. It was commented upon in both the _Critical_ and the _Monthly_--not
in 1767 but in 1768. The reviewer in the _Critical_ (vol. 25, p. 393, in
the monthly catalogue for May) wrote: "This is an elegant and ingenious
descriptive poem. The author supposes himself viewing several pieces of
historic, landskip, and portrait painting; and from thence takes
occasion to represent the figures, prospects, and passions, which the
artist has exhibited. As the poet has touched upon various topics, he
has very properly used many different kinds of metre." The review in the
_Monthly_ (vol. 39, p. 316, in the monthly catalogue for October),
written by John Langhorne, as Professor Nangle's _Index_ shows, was less
favorable. "There is great variety in the numbers of this ode; but, in
our opinion, they are not combined in such a manner as to produce a
natural or agreeable harmony. There is sometimes, too, a falling off,
not far removed from the Bathos. Thus, when the Author says his poetical

  Resistless on the rous'd imagination pour,
  And paint themselves as lively as before;

we cannot help feeling the weakness of the latter verse. Yet there is
poetry, there is enthusiasm, there is energy in this piece, on the
whole, though it is not without many defects." That these reviews
appeared in May and October 1768 is compelling evidence for dating the
pamphlet, in spite of Mr. Griffin, 1768. Walpole once more proves
himself a reliable source. Why the publication was delayed for over a
year will probably remain a mystery.

F. W. H.


Apart from the few papers relating to him that have survived since his
death in 1778, little more is known of the Rev. Thomas Morrison of Great
Torrington in Devon than the main facts of his life; among those papers,
however, are some letters--written by Sir Joshua Reynolds and
others--about his literary pursuits, in which Dr. Johnson was at one
time briefly concerned.

He was born on March 26, 1705, at Midhurst in Sussex, the elder son of
Thomas Morrison of that place and Sarah Bridges. As to his ancestry, the
family seems to have claimed kinship with the Morrisons of Cassiobury
Park in Hertfordshire. At the age of twelve he was entered as a scholar
upon the foundation at Winchester, where he remained until his election
in 1723 to a probationary fellowship of New College, Oxford; his
admission as a full fellow followed in 1725. Having received his
Bachelor's degree in 1727, he became M.A. in 1731, took orders, and was
presented to the college living of Steeple Morden in Cambridgeshire.

It may also have been in 1731, though possibly earlier, that he went
down into Devon to act as tutor to John Basset of Heanton Court near
Barnstaple--a step which was, as things turned out, to make him a
resident of that county for the rest of his life. His pupil's father had
died in 1721, leaving a widow, Elizabeth, the only daughter and eventual
heiress of Sir Nicholas Hooper, Sergeant-at-Law. Sir Nicholas, who had
represented Barnstaple in seven successive parliaments and was a man of
considerable wealth, died in May, 1731; almost exactly a year later, in
May, 1732, his daughter, then thirty-seven years of age and described in
a letter written at that time as a lady much admired for her piety,
prudence and good conduct, was married to Thomas Morrison, then
twenty-seven. Three children were born of their marriage: Mary in 1734,
Eleanora in 1736, and Hooper in 1737. In the year following the birth of
their son Mrs. Morrison died, presumably at Bath as she is buried in the
Abbey Church of that city; on the tablet he placed there to her memory
her husband said that she had been the best of wives who, for the few
years she lived with him, not only made him a much happier man, but a
better man, since not only had her rational and endearing conversation
been the perpetual delight of his heart, but her exemplary conduct had
likewise been the pleasing rule and constant direction of his life.

Upon his marriage Morrison had necessarily resigned his fellowship of
New College, and two years later he also gave up the college living in
Cambridgeshire; the benefices that he afterwards held were all in the
diocese of Exeter. In 1736 he was made a prebendary of Exeter and became
Rector of Wear Giffard; the following year, after obtaining a
dispensation to hold the two livings together, he was also instituted to
High Bickington, which, however, he resigned in 1742. In 1744 he became
Rector of Littleham, soon afterwards resigning Wear Giffard; and
finally, in 1758, after resigning Littleham in its turn, he was
instituted to Langtree, of which parish he continued Rector until his
death twenty years later. The presentations to these livings were made
as follows: to Wear Giffard by Lord Clinton, Lord Lieutenant of the
county from 1721 to 1733, whose seat was at Castle Hill near Barnstaple;
to High Bickington and to Littleham by John Basset of Heanton--who was
patron of half a dozen livings; to Langtree by John Rolle Walter of
Bicton in South Devon and Stevenstone House near Great Torrington,
Member of Parliament for Exeter.

These parishes all lie within six miles of Great Torrington where
Morrison appears to have been resident from at least as early as 1750.
In his answers to the Bishop's queries of 1744 he had, however, declared
himself to be resident partly in Huntshaw, a parish adjoining Wear
Giffard; and--for reasons of his health and the education of his
children--partly at Westleigh on the mouth of the Torridge, a few miles
off. In which intervening year he established himself at Great
Torrington is not known.

Meanwhile, he had made two further marriages: in 1739 to Margaret,
daughter of the Rev. Robert Ham and widow of John Ham of Widhays, who
died in 1744; and in 1745 to Honour, daughter of Sir Thomas Bury and
widow of the Rev. George Bussell, who died at Great Torrington in 1750.
Both these later marriages were childless.

Hooper Morrison followed his father into the Church and became Rector of
Atherington near Barnstaple. In 1769 he bought the property of Yeo Vale,
some five miles from Great Torrington. Eleanora Morrison, who never
married and seems to have lived with her father until his death, sat to
Reynolds in her younger days; the portrait then painted, which was
formerly at Yeo Vale, shows her in profile and wearing a blue velvet
mantle edged with ermine.

There was also among the portraits at Yeo Vale a three-quarter length of
an agreeable-looking man, apparently between thirty and forty years of
age, shown wearing a red velvet cap and an unusual coat, like a
full-skirted cassock made of blue satin; this portrait, the work of
Hudson, was believed to represent Thomas Morrison.

Coming now to the letters, the earliest of these, written in February,
1753, is from Morrison to the Bishop of Exeter, Dr. Lavington, who two
years before had published the third part of his book, _The Enthusiasm
of Methodists and Papists Compared_. The letter is inscribed on the
outside "Mr. Morrison's Ode," and must have been returned to its writer
after the Bishop's death in 1762.

    My Lord,

    Since I had the honour of being with your Lordship in Exeter I
    have with great pleasure read over the third part of the
    Enthusiasm of Methodists and Papists compar'd, and as by having my
    Boy at present under my own Care I have been oblig'd to renew my
    acquaintance a little with the Classicks, I have endeavour'd to
    express my Sentiments of your Lordship's learned and acute
    performance in the following Ode, which if it should afford you a
    Quarter of an Hours Amusement will be no little pleasure to
    me--that your Lordship may read it with the more Indulgence think
    that the Scribbler of it has not attempted to write Latin verse
    for above twenty years, and believe me to be with the Highest

      Your Lordship's most oblig'd
      and most obedient Humble Servant

      T. Morrison.

    My best Respects wait on your Lady and Miss Lavington.

Here follows the ode ("Reverendo admodum Episcopo Exoniensis in
doctissimum adversus Methodistas Librum cui Titulus etc.") which begins:

  Verende praesul, praesul amabilis,
  Qui dulce rides, utiliter doces;
    Jucunda permiscens severis,
      Incolumi gravitate ludens,

  Quia Methodistes scripta legens tui
  Amoenitatem respuat ingeni,
    Suumque vestro--vel reluctans--
      Abstineat sociare risum?

and continues for a further sixteen stanzas.

There is nothing to show to whom the next letter was written, though,
considering the later ones, it seems likely that it was addressed to
Joshua Reynolds. It concerns a tragedy (on the subject of the Emperor
Otho) of which Morrison was undoubtedly the author. John Beard, on whose
behalf the letter was written in February, 1763, had become manager of
Covent Garden Theatre in the previous year.


    Mr. Beard's attention to the Affairs of the Theatre having
    entirely taken up his Time, during this Season, from which, as
    yet, he is not releas'd, deprives him of the Pleasure of writing
    to you, in Answer to the Letter you did him the Favour of
    communicating from the Author of Otho; he, therefore, hopes you
    will excuse his deputing me to convey to you the Opinion of his
    Friends thereon; and if they differ in Sentiment with the Author,
    it is with some Concern, as they wou'd rather give Approbation to
    a Piece, which has, indeed, great merit in the Writing, but will
    not suit the Taste of an English Audience.

    How well, and with what Propriety, a Dramatic Piece may be
    conducted wherein are very few Characters, it is not now intended
    to be entered upon; but it is very certain, from the Want thereof,
    many Productions have fail'd of their expected Applause; of which,
    very many Instances might be produc'd; wherein that has been the
    Chief, if not the only Defect. The French, indeed, tho' a Nation
    of great Levity, can attentively listen to long declamatory
    Speeches, when an English Audience wou'd fall asleep; who love
    Action and Bus'ness, love Plot and Design; Variety of Incidents is
    their Delight, but yet that Plot must be founded on Reason and
    Probability, and conduce to the Main Action of the Drama. It is
    the Advice of a celebrated Author, _Habitum hujus Temporis habe_;
    the Taste of the Town, you know, Sir, right or wrong, must be
    comply'd with; without which, to hope for Success, is striving
    against the Stream, and however great the Merit of this Piece may
    be, it must be confess'd, in this Particular, it is defective; nor
    does there appear a Probability of that Defect's being corrected;
    and even then it wou'd be esteem'd but a Copy of Cato.

    From the Author's great Candour and Impartiality, remarkably shewn
    thro' the whole Tenour of his Letter, it is hop'd a few additional
    Remarks will not give Offence. [Here ensues a lengthy passage of
    detailed criticism, at the end of which the writer continues:] It
    wou'd greatly trespass on yours and the Author's Time to enlarge
    on this Subject, as Mr. Beard cannot give him any Encouragement to
    make Alterations. Undoubtedly there are several good Scenes, and
    much good Writing, which deserve their proper Encomiums; and the
    Perusal may give much pleasure in the Closet, but does not bid
    fair for equal Reception on the Stage.

    I cannot dismiss this without clearing up a mistake which the
    Author is run into; tho' urg'd with the utmost Tenderness and
    Delicacy imaginable; I mean the Supposition that a Recommendation
    from a Person of Figure in the Fashionable or the Letter'd World
    is necessary for the having the Piece accepted. Be assur'd, Sir,
    every Piece must be determin'd by its own intrinsic Worth; and by
    that must stand or fall. Such a Recommendation undoubtedly wou'd
    raise the Expectation and, consequently, engage a more particular
    Attention of the Manager, but the Piece must speak for itself; and
    shou'd it not answer Expectation, might probably not appear in so
    good a Light as it might deserve, purely from the Disappointment.

    I have the Honour, Sir, of sending Mr. Beard's Compliments to
    yourself and the Author, with the Assurance that he wou'd with
    greater Pleasure accept than refuse the Piece, stood it within the
    Probability of Success. At the same Time, tho' unknown, I beg
    leave, with great Deference, to subscribe myself,

      Sir, Your's and the Author's
      very obedient, humble Servant,

      J. Stede.

There now follow the three surviving letters from Joshua Reynolds in
London to Thomas Morrison in Devon. Whether or not the two men had known
each other before, they certainly met when Reynolds visited his sister,
Mrs. Palmer of Great Torrington, during his Journey into the west
country with Johnson in 1762. According to Reynolds' engagement book,
Morrison was his host on August 27 of that year; while a letter written
by Johnson, after returning to London, contains a message for "Dr.
Morison" to say that a set of _Idlers_ was being sent to him with
sincere acknowledgements of all his civilities. The first of Reynolds'
letters is dated, at the end, August 16, 1766.

    Dear Sir,

    The greatest compliment I have ever yet receiv'd for any fancied
    eminence in my profession has not been so flattering to my vanity
    as having had the honour to have so excellent a Poem address'd to
    me as this really is which I have now before me, and the
    consideration that this compliment is made me by Mr. Morrison
    makes me at a loss in what manner to express the obligation I feel
    myself under for so great a favour. I may truly say and without
    affecting much modesty that I am not worthy of the attention you
    please to honour me with.

    As I have not had time yet to consider it as maturely as I intend
    to do, I can only say in general terms that I admire it

Here there is a break in the letter.

    I am quite ashamed to have kept this Letter so long, which
    proceeded from an expectation I dayly had of reading the Poem with
    Mr. Johnson and Dr. Goldsmith but which I have not yet been able
    to accomplish.

    The former part of this Letter was wrote a few days after I had
    the pleasure of seeing your Son; you have surely the greatest
    reason in the world to think me the most ill mannered as well as
    the most ungrateful person breathing in not returning my thanks
    sooner; and now that it is delay'd so long it has not answerd any
    end except that I have the pleasure of saying, I find no cause on
    a second and third reading to retract what I said in the former
    part of the Letter, my own opinion is worth but little; but I hope
    soon to have the pleasure of acquainting you with the approbation
    of those Critics which it is some honour to please.

    With great acknowledgment for the distinction you have been
    pleased to honour me with,

      I am with the greatest respect your
      most obliged humble servant,

      J. Reynolds.

    I beg my compliments to Miss and Mr. Morrison.

To this Morrison evidently sent a reply expressing his pleasure at
Reynolds' praise of the poem, for on January 8, 1767, Reynolds wrote

    Dear Sir,

    I am much obliged to you for the compliment you make me in
    thinking my approbation of any value, to tell you the truth the
    reason of my setting so little value on it myself, proceeds not so
    much from modesty, or an opinion that I cannot feel the powers of
    Poetry, or distinguish beauties from defects, but from a
    consciousness that I am unable to determine (as all excellence in
    comparative) what rank it ought to hold in the scale of Art; and
    this judgement can be possess'd I think by those only who are
    acquainted with what the world has produced of that kind.

    I have lately had the pleasure of reading your Poem to several
    friends, who have spoken much in its commendation, and Mr. Johnson
    who is as severe a Critic as old Dennis approves of it very much,
    he thinks it superior to any Poem of the kind that has been
    publish'd these many years and will venture to lay a wager that
    there is not a better publish'd this year or the next.

    The Characters of the several Masters mention'd in the Poem are
    truly drawn; and the descriptions of the several kinds of History
    Painting shew great imagination and a thorough knowledge of the
    Theory of the Art, and that this is deliver'd in Poetry much above
    the common standard I have Mr. Johnson's word who concluded his
    commendation with Imprimatur meo periculo which order if you have
    no objection we will immediately put in execution.

    I have scarce left room to subscribe myself


      J. Reynolds.

There is no record of any copy of the poem, either printed or
manuscript, having been at Yeo Vale; but that the order had indeed been
put in execution became apparent lately when Professor Hilles, on
reading the above letter, recognized the identity of Morrison's poem
with the _Pindarick Ode on Painting_ published in 1767.

The last of the three letters from Reynolds to Morrison is dated March
2, 1771. Notwithstanding the rejection of "Otho," its author had written
a second tragedy, the manuscript of which was among the papers at Yeo
Vale, according to a note made in 1917 by the late Major J. H. Morrison

    Dear Sir,

    Nothing would give me greater uneasiness [than] if you should
    suspect that my not answering your Letter proceeded from neglect,
    it would be a shamefull return for the kindness I have allways
    experienced from you, the truth is Mr. Coleman [sic] as well as
    myself is allways so full of business that I have not been able to
    meet with him so often as I could wish, however when we do meet I
    have endeavourd to press him to complete the negociation by Letter
    as I found it impossible to persuade you to come to Town. The last
    time I saw him he told me he would write to you in a few days,
    as by this time you have probably receiv'd his Letter, you have
    a more explicit account than any I can give. In regard to the
    hundred Pounds for which I told him you would let him have the
    Tragedy, he said he fear'd that you suspected that he wanted to
    decline receiving it, which was not the case, that he wish'd to
    receive it and certainly would when those alterations were made,
    that if he gave this sum for the Tragedy, he should probably
    receive more profit from it than he had any right to, that he
    never would receive any profit but as Manager.

      I beg my Compliments to Miss Morrison and am with the
      greatest respect your most humble and obedient servant

    Joshua Reynolds.

On reading this, Morrison may well have thought that his tragedy was
almost certain of acceptance; a few months later, however, he heard from
George Colman, who had succeeded Beard as manager of Covent Garden
Theatre in 1767. The letter is dated July 23, 1771, and its opening
sentence is explained by the death of Colman's wife earlier in the year.


    My last Letter would very soon have been succeeded by another if a
    very unexpected & most shocking domestick calamity had not
    rendered me wholly incapable of attending to every kind of
    business. I have however lately read your Tragedy over & over with
    the strictest attention, and after considering it again & again,
    not without a real partiality to the Author, & the strongest
    desire of encouraging the most favourable idea of it, I am with
    much concern obliged to declare it unfit for representation.

    The first act is very excellent, & with a few slight alterations,
    would be a most affecting opening of a Tragedy. In the second act
    the scene of Iphigenia is also extremely beautiful and
    interesting; but the other parts of the act have no dramatick
    merit. The circumstance so much insisted on of Clytemnestra's
    dressing (tho' I believe in Euripides) wd. appear ridiculous on
    our stage: and the scenes of Memnon and Achilles are weak &
    illwritten, tho' the entrance of Achilles at that juncture might
    afford a spirited & interesting scene.

    In these acts, as well as the two following, the conduct of the
    fable is in general just: at least it is most wonderfully improved
    since your first draught of the Tragedy: and yet the characters &
    dialogue are so managed as to render the whole cold,
    uninteresting, & totally destitute of that spirit essential to the
    success of the Drama. The personages are all suffered to languish,
    tho' in situations which require the utmost animation & force.
    Clytemnestra & Iphigenia, though defective, are indeed better
    sustained than the rest, but the consequence of the Atridae hardly
    survives the first act, and Achilles never maintains any
    consequence at all.

    The same remark may in general be applied to the fifth act as to
    the foregoing. The management of the catastrophe might perhaps
    admit of alteration. The nature of the subject indeed renders it a
    very nice point: tho' I think it would be very possible to give it
    due warmth & interest, were the more arduous task accomplished of
    perfecting the preceding parts of the Drama.

    Believe me, Sir, that in this as well as in all my other Letters
    to you, I have delivered my real sentiments, tho' it is not
    without reluctance & regret on the present occasion. I had at
    first some objections to the subject. These vanished; & in the
    first draught there were here & there some touches which inclined
    me to hope that the whole piece might be worked up by the same
    hand. I am sorry to pronounce it has failed: but _Ponere Totum_ is
    the great secret; and in our exhibitions a common Dauber, possest
    of that happy knack, will often be attended with tolerable
    success, and exult at the failure of a superior artist who has
    only laboured particular parts.

      I am, Sir, your most obedient humble servant,

      G. Colman.

This letter, which must have left its recipient without further hope for
the production of his tragedy, is the last that remains.

Thomas Morrison died on July 20, 1778, and was buried beside his third
wife in the churchyard at Great Torrington. The inscription on the
tablet placed to his memory in the church nearby says of him that his
diffusive charity and benevolence towards man, his amiable manners, the
goodness of his heart and his exemplary conduct deservedly endeared him
to all his acquaintance.

Hooper Morrison died in 1798; his only son, Thomas Hooper Morrison, in
1824; and his son's widow in 1861. The Yeo Vale property then passed to
his son's niece, Eleanora Elizabeth Hammett, who was the wife of John
Townsend Kirkwood, great-grandfather of the present writer, and the sole
surviving child of Hooper Morrison's youngest--but only

  J. T. Kirkwood
  White's Club, London.

           *       *       *       *
       *       *       *       *       *






                  Addressed To

             JOSHUA REYNOLDS, Esq.

  Printed for W. GRIFFIN, in Catharine-Street, Strand.
  [Price One Shilling and Six-pence.]


As the subject of this Ode is, from the copiousness of it, almost an
inexhaustible one (were I to take notice of all the minuter branches of
this art, in which the several masters have distinguish'd themselves,
such as the painting of fruit, flowers, still-life, game, buildings,
ships, &c.) I have confin'd myself chiefly to the three greater species
of it: namely, History (under which Battle-painting may justly be
included) Landskip and Portraiture----and as, in a composition of this
length, I imagin'd that the perpetual recurrence of the same measure in
such a multiplicity of stanzas would have been rather languid and
fatiguing, I have therefore indulg'd myself in many different kinds of
metre; but, at the same time, have blended them as harmoniously as I
could contrive; by which indulgence I have not only consulted my own
ease, but hope I have likewise, in some degree, consulted the pleasure
of the Reader, by entertaining his ear, at least, with a little variety
of wild music, even if the composition should have no other sort of
merit to recommend it.



  Sweet mimick art! Which to our ravish'd eyes,
    From a few blended colours, and the aid
      Of attemper'd light and shade,
    Bid'st a new creation rise---
  Oh! to this song of tributary praise,
      Which Poetry thy sister art
  Now with friendly homage pays,
    Could I contrive thy beauties to impart!
      With my easy flowing line
      To unite correctness of design,                           10
  And make a TITIAN's colouring conspire
  With RAPHAEL's grace, and BUANOROTI's fire---


  And this moment I perceive
    (Or does some illusion bless me,
    Some sweet madness now possess me?)
  My tumultuous bosom heave,
  Like the rapt SIBYLL's when she feels the load,
  The painful influence of th' in-rushing God---


    Yes---once again with joy I find
      (Nor think my friend th' assertion bold)                  20
    This languid age-enfeebled mind,
      As in life's prime, it's powers unfold---
    Again th' ideal scenes arise,
    The visions stream before my eyes,
  Resistless on the rous'd imagination pour,
  And paint themselves as lively as before-----


  But be this mental picture grac'd
    With all th' adornings fancy can bestow,
  How is it's beauty now effac'd,                               30
    How fast all it's splendor declines,
    Out-dazzled by those brighter lines
  Which on yonder canvas glow----


  Where---by th' Historick pencil's aid
  Whose ages are at once display'd---
    Some great event of Rome or Greece
    Fills perhaps each high wrought piece---
    There---some triumphal pomp proceeds---
    There---th' impetuous battle bleeds---
        Mark! while they engage
        What ardor what rage,                                   40
    How shields are clash'd with shields---
      And with what force up-rais'd in air,
      Each warrior brawny arm stript bare,
  Darts th' keen spear, or glittering faulchion wields,
    And while it aims the stroke, or while repels,
    How justly each inflated muscle swells----


    With the same noble warmth imprest,
    As with his Lord the gallant beast
      Was eager to acquire a name,
      And combated like him for fame,                           50
        See the generous steed
        Fierce as CIRCE's high breed
  Which she stole from her bright-flaming fire,
        While he springs on the foe,
        Like the shaft from the bow,
        Scarce imprint the trod ground;
        But curvet and bound
  As if drawn by a pencil of fire----


    But what endless length of verse
    Can suffice me to rehearse                                  60
      Th' enliven'd action of the whole?
    Squadrons this way, that way bending,
    The depicted forms contending
      As instinct with real foul----


    Nay---minutely to describe
      The varied helm, peculiar shield,
    The different aspect of each tribe
      Which animates th' embattled field,
    Would ask the compass of an age,
      To mark the whole---must drawl along                      70
      The tedious circumstantial song,
  And haply languish through the thousandth page---


    But rapidly by Painting's aid
    Is this intelligence convey'd;
      E'en in a single moment's space
    We see th' extensive plan unfold,
      Omitted not one trifling grace,
    In full the complex tale is told;
  The grand exploits of half an Iliad rise,
  And flash at once on our astonish'd eyes----                  80


    Nor serves this sweet instructive art
      T' inform the intellect alone,
    But often melts th' obdurate heart
      And wakes it's pænitential groan---
  For when in some great Master's draught,
  With genius as with judgement fraught,
      Nail'd haply to th' accursed tree,
    On his tenter'd wounds suspended,
    Every nerve with torture rended,
      Th' agonizing GOD we see---                               90
    Supported by her weeping train
      While the dolorous mother stands
      With anguish'd features, writhen hands,
        Expressing e'en superior pain;
  Who but must mingle in this scene of woe,
  What breast can cease to heave, what eye forbear to flow?


    But sorrow now o'erpow'rd by fear,
    Soon is check'd the starting tear,
    While in yonder piece I view,
    Which VANDERVELD's bold pencil drew                        100
      Through all it's gloom'd extent the ocean
      Work'd into wild impetuous motion,
    And with more dread t' impress the soul
      Grimly frowns the lurid sky,
    And the condensing vapours roll,
      And the fork'd light'nings fly---
    With shatter'd sails and low-bent mast
    Drives before the whirling blast
    The fondering vessel---Hark! I hear
    (Or does the eye deceive the ear?)                         110
      The thunder's voice, the groaning air,
        The billows loud roar
        While they break on the shore,
  The cries of the wreck'd, and their shrieks of despair.


  With pleasure now I turn my sight
  From horror and death to those scenes of delight,
      Where CLAUDIO's pencil has essay'd
    With every heighten'd touch to trace
    The wide-stretch'd Landskip's varied face,
      And all it's sweet delusive skill display'd---           120


    How the genial colours warm us?
    How the gay deceptions charm us?
      The objects here advancing nigh
    As with brighter tints they bloom---
      There receding from the eye
    As suffus'd with deeper gloom;
    And, while here to bound the scene,
      Their tops half-blended with the skies,
    The misty mountains intervene,
      Or rocks in dim confusion rise;                          130
  There the wild ocean terminates the view;
  It's green waves mingling with th' æthereal blue---


    And, lo! what numerous beauties grace
    Th' enchanted intermediate space!
    Rivers winding through the vales,
      Here, full in view; there, faintly shewn,
    Hillocks, inter-mix'd with dales,
      Rural cotts at distance thrown---
    There, some foaming cataract pours
    From the steep cliff it's watery stores;                   140
    Here, spreads it's gloom some awful grove,
    Through whose thick branches interwove,
    While the sun darts his slanting beams,
  Delightful to the eye the yellowish lustre streams---


    Above the strong illumin'd skies,
      The clouds in shining volumes, roll'd
      Their fleecy skirts bedeckt with gold,
    Half-dazzle the spectator's eyes---
      And does the real solar light
      Flash at present on the sight?                           150
    Or, does the pencil'd radiance only flow,
      And flowing with such fervour beat
      That e'en with all the dog-days heat
    The sultry painting now appears to glow?


    Beneath some oak's projecting shade,
      Where the shot rays scarce passage find,
    See many a rustick youth and maid
      In languid attitudes reclin'd----
      Mark! with features all relenting,
      And with down-cast eyes consenting,                      160
    How each nymph listens to the amorous tale;
      Her half-bar'd bosom, panting with desire,
  Expos'd, as if to catch the cooling gale;
      But more, perhaps, to fan the lover's fire.


      Ye dear deceptions! how ye move
      The breast to long forgotten love?
      Luxurious scenes! how ye excite
      The traces of distinct delight!
  E'en now around this poor half-frozen heart
      Agnizing it's accustom'd smart,                          170
  Like some mild lambent flame the passion plays;
      And, vanquish'd by ideal charms,
      I sink in the imagin'd arms
  Of some sweet PHILLIS of my youthful days.


  But, lo! the Portrait of yon hoary sage
    From whose grave lore I learnt in youth
      Many a rigid moral truth,
  Frowns me again to cold unfeeling age---
      How are the soft emotions checkt
      While tow'rd me he seems to direct,                      180
    As if alive, his conscious eye;
      At whose austere reproving glance,
      I wake reluctant from my trance,
  And feel with pain each pleasing passion die!---


      VENUS yokes her purple doves,
        In an instant dispossest,
      All the little sportive loves
        Hurry---hurry from my breast---
    And the whole charming vision flits away
  Like the night's golden dream at break of envious day--      190


    Poor human life! how short the date
    Assign'd thee by relentless Fate!----
    Poor transient Beauty! tender flower!
    Still shorter thy allotted hour!----
    Then stretch the canvass---quick, my Friend,
    Thy pencil seize---thy work attend---
  E'en exempt from deforming diseases,
    How it fades by the torches of Time;
      Every moment that flows
      Steals the gloss from the rose;                          200
  Then catch the bright hue while it pleases,
    And fix the fair face in it's prime.


    Nay-- thus, great Artist, has thy hand
    To half the high-born beauty of the land
        A permanence ensur'd,
    And from th' attacks of wrinkling age,
    And from the pustule's venom'd rage
        Th' untarnish'd form secur'd---


      It's dear resemblance has at least
      Been in thy faithful lines exprest;                      210
    In thy firm colours still persists to bloom;
      Nor does it cease the heart t' alarm,
      Nor does it cease the eye to charm,
  E'en when the real Fair is mouldering in her tomb--


    And eminent in beauty as in birth,
      When the bright LENOX shall as well
      In the same gloomy mansion dwell
    And mingle with her kindred regal earth,
      Still in thy tints shall she survive,
      With sweet attraction still engage,                      220
    Still feed the flame as when alive,
      And (e'en improv'd by mellowing age
      Each charm of person and of face)
        Still sacrifice to every grace---


  For we not see the outward form alone
    In thy judicious strokes defin'd,
  But in them too---distinctly shewn---
    The strong-mark'd features of the mind---
      Each charmer's attitude and air
      The internal character declare,                          230
  With ease the varied temper we descry,
  The full-soul beaming from th' expressive eye---


    Here---in the sweetly pensive mein
    Is the soft gentle Nature seen,
    And chaste reserve, and modest fear,
    And artless innocence appear---
    There---the little fly coquet
      Aiming her insidious glances:
    For trapping hearts each feature set,
      From the canvass makes advances,                         240
  Nay---if we credit the delusive face,
  She seems just springing to our fond embrace---


    And if such meaning can be thrown
    Into the single form alone---
    With what fresh rapture should we gaze,
    How would thy kindling genius blaze,
      To what superior heights aspire,
        If working on some grand design,
        Where various characters combine
  To call forth all it's force, and rouse thy native fire?---  250


    And that thy hand can equally excel
        E'en in this noble part,
      This shining branch of thy expressive art,
    To it's own happy labour we appeal,
      To that rich piece whose pleasing fiction
      And splendid tints with full conviction
      Strike the spectator, while he views
      THALIA and the tragick muse,
      Each eager on her side t' engage
    Th' unrivall'd Roscius of the British stage---             260


    Stern and erect the buskin'd dame
      In high dramatick wrath appears,
    With energy supports her claim
      And seems to thunder in his ears;
    While the inveigling comick Fair,
    With aspect sly and artful air
    To draw her favourite to her arms
      Strains every nerve; but as she strives,
      With the sweet attitude contrives
  T' impart the stronger influence to her charms--             270


      Betwixt them with distracted mein
      The object of their strife is seen;
        His eyes with wild confusion roll,
      Mixt passions, with alternate sway,
      In his ambiguous features play,
    And speak as yet the undetermined soul;
        But that half-assenting leer,
    Obliquely on the little wheedler thrown,
        Portends, though checkt with aukward fear,
    That soon the apostate will be all her own--               280


      Spare, Oh! Time, these colours; spare 'em,
      Or with thy tend'rest touch impair 'em:
      At least, for some few centuries space,
      Shine they with unlessen'd grace!
    They shall---yet, Oh! these noble works at last
    Must, by the gathering mould o'ercast,
      Or rotted by the damps, decay,
        Or by the air's corrosive power,
        Or e'en the slowly-fretting hour,
      Must every trace of beauty melt away.                    290


      When er'st APELLE's friend enquir'd,
        Why touch'd so oft in every part
        With repeated strokes of art,
      The picture which already they admir'd,
    The Artist, with becoming pride,
    "I'm Painting for Eternity," replied.


    But vain, great Genius! was thy boast;
    Long since th' eternal piece is lost----
      Thy VENUS now no more expresses,
        Rising from her watery bed,                            300
      The moisture from her twisted tresses
        O'er her dazzling bosom spread---
  No more thy colours bloom, effac'd by age,
  But in the poet's or th' historian's page.


    Oh then---reject not with disdain,
    Great Artist, this unpolish'd strain----
    Though happy while it may intend
      Thy shining merits to display,
    It may serve only in the end
      My own weak genius to betray,                            310
  May shew with what presumption I aspire
        To build the rhyme
        And tow'er sublime
  With PINDAR's vanity without his fire.


    Yet----confide----(for every trifler's breast)
      And by this influence I presage
      In the long course of rolling years,
      When all thy labour disappears,
  Yet shall this verse descend from age to age,
      And, breaking from oblivion's shade,                     320
  Go on, to flourish while thy paintings fade.


    If so---at present though thy hand
    May glory of itself command,
      Nor can the muse's laurels now,
    Though wove with nicer skill than mine,
    Help to adorn it, while they twine
      Round thy already loaden brow---
    Yes---if my presage is not vain---
    Yes---if this verse hereafter should remain---             330
    (Though now indeed as needless quite
    As at noon's blaze the taper's light)
  It may then serve to aggrandize thy name,
  And add some splendor to thy future fame.


       *       *       *       *       *
           *       *       *       *


  [Where available, LibraryBlog e-text numbers are shown in

FIRST YEAR (1946-1947)

Numbers 1-6 out of print.

  [Titles 1-4:
  1. Blackmore, Essay upon wit  [13484]

  2. Flecknoe, On wit; Warton, The adventurer  [14973]

  3. Letter to A. H. Esq., concerning the Stage (1698),
  and Richard Willis' Occasional Paper No. IX (1698).  [14047]

  4. Cobb, Discourse on Criticism and of Poetry (1707) From
  Poems On Several Occasions (1707)  [14528] ]

5. Samuel Wesley's _Epistle to a Friend Concerning Poetry_ (1700) and
_Essay on Heroic Poetry_ (1693).  [16506]

6. _Representation of the Impiety and Immorality of the Stage_ (1704)
and _Some Thoughts Concerning the Stage_ (1704).  [15656]

SECOND YEAR (1947-1948)

7. John Gay's _The Present State of Wit_ (1711): and a section on Wit
from _The English Theophrastus_ (1702).  [14800]

8. Rapin's _De Carmine Pastorali_, translated by Creech (1684).  [14495]

9. T. Hanmer's (?) _Some Remarks on the Tragedy of Hamlet_ (1736).

10. Corbyn Morris' _Essay towards Fixing the True Standards of Wit,
etc._ (1744).  [16233]

11. Thomas Purney's _Discourse on the Pastoral_ (1717).  [15313]

12. Essays on the Stage, selected, with an Introduction by Joseph Wood
Krutch.  [16335]

THIRD YEAR (1948-1949)

13. Sir John Falstaff (pseud.), _The Theatre_ (1720).  [15999]

14. Edward Moore's _The Gamester_ (1753).  [16267]

15. John Oldmixon's _Reflections on Dr. Swift's Letter to Harley_
(1712); and Arthur Mainwaring's _The British Academy_ (1712).  [25091]

16. Nevil Payne's _Fatal Jealousy_ (1673).  [16916]

17. Nicholas Rowe's _Some Account of the Life of Mr. William
Shakespeare_ (1709).  [16275]

18. "Of Genius," in _The Occasional Paper_, Vol. III, No. 10 (1719);
and Aaron Hill's Preface to _The Creation_ (1720).  [15870]

FOURTH YEAR (1949-1950)

19. Susanna Centlivre's _The Busie Body_ (1709).  [16740]

20. Lewis Theobold's _Preface to The Works of Shakespeare_ (1734).

21. _Critical Remarks on Sir Charles Grandison, Clarissa, and Pamela_

22. Samuel Johnson's _The Vanity of Human Wishes_ (1749) and Two
_Rambler_ papers (1750).  [13350]

23. John Dryden's _His Majesties Declaration Defended_ (1681).  [15074]

24. Pierre Nicole's _An Essay on True and Apparent Beauty in Which from
Settled Principles is Rendered the Grounds for Choosing and Rejecting
Epigrams_, translated by J. V. Cunningham.  [IN PREPARATION]

FIFTH YEAR (1950-1951)

25. Thomas Baker's _The Fine Lady's Airs_ (1709).  [14467]

26. Charles Macklin's _The Man of the World_ (1792).  [14463]

27. Frances Reynolds' _An Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Taste,
and of the Origin of Our Ideas of Beauty, etc._ (1785).  [13485]

28. John Evelyn's _An Apologie for the Royal Party_ (1659); and
_A Panegyric to Charles the Second_ (1661).  [17833]

29. Daniel Defoe's _A Vindication of the Press_ (1718).  [14084]

30. Essays on Taste from John Gilbert Cooper's _Letters Concerning
Taste,_ 3rd edition (1757), & John Armstrong's _Miscellanies_ (1770).

SIXTH YEAR (1951-1952)

31. Thomas Gray's _An Elegy Wrote in a Country Church Yard_ (1751);
and _The Eton College Manuscript_.  [15409]

32. Prefaces to Fiction; Georges de Scudéry's Preface to _Ibrahim_
(1674), etc.  [14525]

33. Henry Gally's _A Critical Essay_ on Characteristic-Writings (1725).

34. Thomas Tyers' A Biographical Sketch of Dr. Samuel Johnson (1785).

35. James Boswell, Andrew Erskine, and George Dempster. _Critical
Strictures on the New Tragedy of Elvira, Written by Mr. David Malloch_
(1763).  [15857]

36. Joseph Harris's _The City Bride_ (1696).  [22974]

William Andrews Clark Memorial Library: University of California


_General Editors_

  William Andrews Clark Memorial Library

  R. C. BOYS
  University of Michigan

  University of California, Los Angeles

  University of California, Los Angeles

The Society exists to make available inexpensive reprints (usually
facsimile reproductions) of rare seventeenth and eighteenth century
works. The editorial policy of the Society continues unchanged. As in
the past, the editors welcome suggestions concerning publications. All
income of the Society is devoted to defraying cost of publication and

All correspondence concerning subscriptions in the United States and
Canada should be addressed to the William Andrews Clark Memorial
Library, 2205 West Adams Boulevard, Los Angeles 18, California.
Correspondence concerning editorial matters may be addressed to any of
the general editors. The membership fee is $3.00 a year for subscribers
in the United States and Canada and 15/- for subscribers in Great
Britain and Europe. British and European subscribers should address
B. H. Blackwell, Broad Street, Oxford, England.

Publications for the sixth year [1951-1952]

  [Transcriber's Note: See previous page for e-text numbers. The present
  page seems to have been typeset earlier in the academic year.]

(At least six items, most of them from the following list, will be

THOMAS GRAY: _An Elegy Wrote in a Country Church Yard_ (1751).
Introduction by George Sherburn.

on the New Tragedy of Elvira_ (1763). Introduction by Frederick A.

_An Essay on the New Species of Writing Founded by Mr. Fielding_ (1751).
Introduction by James A. Work.

HENRY GALLY: _A Critical Essay on Characteristic Writing_ (1725).
Introduction by Alexander Chorney.

[JOHN PHILLIPS]: _Satyr Against Hypocrits_ (1655). Introduction by Leon

_Prefaces to Fiction._ Selected and with an Introduction by Benjamin

THOMAS TYERS: _A Biographical Sketch of Dr. Samuel Johnson_ ([1785]).
Introduction by Gerald Dennis Meyer.

Publications for the first five years (with the exception of nos. 1-4,
which are out of print) are available at the rate of $3.00 a year.
Prices for individual numbers may be obtained by writing to the Society.

  2205 West Adams Boulevard, Los Angeles 18, California

Make check or money order payable to THE REGENTS OF THE UNIVERSITY OF

       *       *       *       *       *
           *       *       *       *
       *       *       *       *       *

ERRATA (Noted by transcriber)

Editor's Introduction

  "This is an elegant and ingenious  [" missing]
  There was also among the portraits at Yeo Vale  [protraits]

Pindarick Ode

  With RAPHAEL's grace, and BUANOROTI's fire---  [_spelling unchanged_]
  Th' agonizing GOD we see---  [agnonizing]
  Th' untarnish'd form secur'd---  [secur d]
  When er'st APELLE's friend enquir'd,
    [_spelling unchanged: name is Apelles_]

_Missing Stanza Numbers_

  Stanza numbers X and XXIX are conjectural; each is at the top
  of a page.

_Missing Line Numbers_

  130; 180, 190, 200 [entire page]; 250, 260; 310

Augustan Reprint Society

  Numbers 1-6 out of print.  [_error for "1-4"?_]

*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "A Pindarick Ode on Painting - Addressed to Joshua Reynolds, Esq." ***

Copyright 2023 LibraryBlog. All rights reserved.