For ev'n when death diffolves our human.

frame,

The foul returns to heaven from whence it

came ;

Earth keeps the body, verfe preserves the fame.

EPISTLE THE FOURTEENTH.

SIR

ΤΟ

GODFREY KNELLER,

PRINCIPAL PAINTER TO HIS MAJESTY.

ONCE I beheld the fairest of her kind,
And ftill the fweet idea charms my mind:

Ver. 1. Once I beheld] Sir Godfrey Kneller was born at Lubec in 1648. Difcovering early a predominant genius for painting, his father fent him to Amfterdam, where he ftudied under Bol, and had fome inftructions from Rembrandt. But Kneller was no fervile imitator or difciple. Even in Italy, whither he went in 1672, he followed no particular master, not even at Venice, where he long refided. In 1676 he came to England, and was foon patronized by Charles II. and James. Ten fovereigns at different times fat to him: Charles II. James II. and his queen, William and Mary, George I. Louis XIV. and Charles VI. He ftuck to portrait painting as the moft lucrative, though Dryden in this very epiftle inveighs fo much against it. Of all his works he valued moft the converted Chinese in Windfor Caftle. But Mr. Walpole thinks his portrait of Gibbon fuperior to it. This epiftle is full of juft tafte and knowledge of painting, particularly what he fays of Light, Shade, Perfpective, and Grace. It is certainly fuperior to Pope's addrefs to his friend, Jervas, though Pope himfelf was a practitioner in the art. Not only Dryden, but Prior, Pope, Steele, Tickell, and Addison, all wrote high encomiums on Sir Godfrey; but not one fo elegant as that of Addifon, who with matchlefs, art and dexterity applied the characters of those heathen gods whom Phidias had carved, to the English princes that Kneller had painted; making Pan, Saturn, Mass, Minerya, Thetis, and Jupiter, ftand

True, she was dumb; for Nature gaz'd fo long, Pleas'd with her work, that the forgot her tongue;

6

But, fmiling, faid, She still shall gain the prize;
I only have transferr❜d it to her eyes.
Such are thy pictures, Kneller: fuch thy fkill,
That nature seems obedient to thy will:
Comes out, and meets thy pencil in the
draught;

Lives there, and wants but words to speak her thought.

At least thy pictures look a voice; and we
Imagine founds, deceiv'd to that degree,
We think 'tis fomewhat more than just to see.

10

Shadows are but privations of the light; Yet, when we walk, they shoot before the fight; With us approach, retire, arise, and fall; Nothing themselves, and yet expreffing all. Such are thy pieces, imitating life

16

20

So near, they almoft conquer in the ftrife;
And from their animated canvafs came,
Demanding fouls, and loofen'd from the frame.
Prometheus, were he here, would caft
away
His Adam, and refuse a foul to clay;
And either would thy noble work inspire,
Or think it warm enough, without his fire.

25

for Charles II. James II. William III. queen Mary, Anne, and George I. Sir Godfrey was a man of much original wit and humour, but tinctured with a mixture of profanenefs and ribaldry. Dr. J. WARTON.

But vulgar hands may vulgar likeness raise ; This is the leaft attendant on thy praife: From hence the rudiments of art began; A coal, or chalk, firft imitated man: Perhaps the shadow, taken on a wall, Gave outlines to the rude original: Ere canvass yet was ftrain'd, before the Of blended colors found their use and place, Or cyprefs tablets first receiv'd a face.

grace

30

34S

By flow degrees the godlike art advanc'd ; As man grew polish'd, picture was inhanc'd: Greece added posture, fhade, and perspective; And then the mimic piece began to live. Yet perspective was lame, no distance true, But all came forward in one common view: 40 No point of light was known, no bounds of art; When light was there, it knew not to depart, But glaring on remoter objects play'd; Not languish'd, and infenfibly decay'd.

Rome rais'd not art, but barely kept alive, 45
And with old Greece unequally did strive:
Till Goths, and Vandals, a rude northern race,
Did all the matchlefs monuments deface.
Then all the Mufes in one ruin lie,

And rhime began to enervate poetry.
Thus, in a ftupid military state,

The pen

and pencil find an equal fate.

50

Ver. 50.] It is remarkable that he mentions rhime as one in ftance of barbarifm.

Dr. J. WARTON.

Flat faces, fuch as would disgrace a skreen,
Such as in Bantam's embaffy were seen,
Unrais'd, unrounded, were the rude delight 55
Of brutal nations, only born to fight.
Long time the fifter arts, in iron sleep,
A heavy fabbath did supinely keep:

At length, in Raphael's age, at once they rise,
Stretch all their limbs, and open all their
Thence rofe the Roman, and the Lombard

line:

eyes.

61

65

One color'd best, and one did best design.
Raphael's, like Homer's, was the nobler part,
But Titian's painting look'd like Virgil's art.
Thy genius gives thee both; where true de-
fign,
Poftures unforc❜d, and lively colors join.
Likeness is ever there; but still the best,..
Like proper thoughts in lofty language drest:
Where light, to fhades defcending, plays, not

ftrives,

Dies by degrees, and by degrees revives. 70 Of various parts a perfect whole is wrought: Thy pictures think, and we divine their thought. Shakspeare, thy gift, I place before my fight; With awe, I ask his bleffing ere I write;

580.

Ver. 57. Long time] The art of painting expired in the year It revived under Cimabue in 1240, but it was And. Mantegna who was born in 1431, and whofe cartoons are at Hampton court, who was the first that revived a true tafte for the anDr. J. WARTON. tique.