IV.

Of a virgin so tender *, the face or the fame
Alike would be injur'd by praise or by blame;
To the world's fiery trial too early consign'd,
She soon shall experience it, cruel or kind.
His concern thus the artful enameller hides,
And his well-finish'd work to the furnace confides;
But jocund resumes it secure from decay,
If the colours stand firm on the dangerous day.

V.

A manner so studied, so vacant a face,

These features the mind of our Murphy disgrace,
A mind unaffected, soft, artless, and true,

A mind which, though ductile, has dignity too.
Where virtues ill-sorted are huddled in heaps,
Humanity triumphs, and piety sleeps;

A mind in which mirth may with merit reside,
And Learning turns Frolic, with Humour, bis guide.
Whilst wit, follies, faults, its fertility prove,

Till the faults you grow fond of, the follies you love,
And corrupted at length by the sweet conversation,
You swear there's no honesty left in the nation.
An African landscape thus breaks on the sight,
Where confusion and wildness increase the delight;
Till in wanton luxuriance indulging our eye,
We faint in the forcible fragrance, and die.

* Her eldest daughter, then a child.

VI.

From our Goldsmith's anomalous character, who Can withhold his contempt, and his reverence too? From a poet so polished, so paltry a fellow!

From critic, historian, or vile Punchinello!

From a heart in which meanness had made her abode,
From a foot that each path of vulgarity trod;
From a head to invent, and a hand to adorn,
Unskilled in the schools, a philosopher born.
By disguise undefended, by jealousy smit,
This lusus naturæ, this nondescript wit,
May best be compared to those Anamorphòses,
Which for lectures to ladies th' optician proposes;
All deformity seeming, in some points of view,
In others quite accurate, regular, true:

Till the student no more sees the figure that shock'd

her,

But all in his likeness

our odd little doctor.

VII.

Of Reynolds all good should be said, and no harm; Tho' the heart is too frigid, the pencil too warm; Yet each fault from his converse we still must dis

claim,

As his temper 'tis peaceful, and pure as his fame.
Nothing in it o'erflows, nothing ever is wanting,

It nor chills like his kindness, nor glows like his painting.

When Johnson by strength overpowers our mind,

When Montagu dazzles, and Burke strikes us blind;

To Reynolds well pleas'd for relief we must run,
Rejoice in his shadow, and shrink from the sun.

VIII.

In this luminous portrait requiring no shade,
See Chambers' soft character sweetly display'd:
Oh! quickly return with that genuine smile,
Nor longer let India's temptations beguile,
But fly from a climate where moist relaxation
Invades with her torpor th' effeminate nation,
Where metals and marbles will melt and decay,
Fear, man, for thy virtue, and hasten away.

IX.

Here Garrick's lov'd features our mem'ry may trace, Here praise is exhausted, and blame has no place. Many portraits like this would defeat my whole scheme,

For what new can be said on so hackney'd a theme ? 'Tis thus on old Ocean whole days one may look,

Every change well recorded in some well-known

book;

Till with vain expectation fatiguing our eyes,

Nor the storm nor the calm one new image supplies.

X.

See Thrale from intruders defending his door,

While he wishes his house would with people run o'er; Unlike his companions, the make of his mind,

In great things expanded, in small things confin'd.

Yet his purse at their call and his meat to their taste,
The wits he delighted in lov'd him at last;

And finding no prominent follies to fleer at,
Respected his wealth and applauded his merit :
Much like that empirical chemist was he
Who thought Anima Mundi the grand panacea.
Yet when every kind element help'd his collection,
Fell sick while the med'cine was yet in projection.

XI.

Baretti hangs next, by his frowns you may know him,
He has lately been reading some new published poem;
He finds the poor author a blockhead, a beast,
A fool without sentiment, judgment, or taste.
Ever thus let our critic his insolence fling,
Like the hornet in Homer, impatient to sting.
Let him rally his friends for their frailties before 'em,
And scorn the dull praise of that dull thing, decorum:
While tenderness, temper, and truth he despises,
And only the triumph of victory prizes.

Yet let us be candid, and where shall we find
So active, so able, so ardent a mind?

To your children more soft, more polite with your servant,

More firm in distress, or in friendship more fervent.

* "I am at present in a tourbillon of conversations; but how came you to throw in the Thrales among the Reynoldses and the Beauclerks? Mr. Thrale is a worthy sensible man, and has the wits much about his house, but he is not one himself. Perhaps you mean Mrs. Thrale."-Boswell to Temple, May 10th, 1775. This is not exactly the tone in which he distinguishes the couple in his book.

Thus Etna enraged her artillery pours,
And tumbles down palaces, princes, and towers;
While the fortunate peasantry fix'd at its foot,
Can make it a hot-house to ripen their fruit.

XII.

See next, happy contrast! in Burney combine
Every power to please, every talent to shine.
In professional science a second to none,
In social if second, thro' shyness alone.
So sits the sweet violet close to the ground,
Whilst holy-oaks and sunflow'rs flant it around.
His character form'd free, confiding, and kind,
Grown cautious by habit, by station confin'd:
Tho' born to improve and enlighten our days,
In a supple facility fixes his praise:

And contented to sooth, unambitious to strike,
Has a faint praise from all men, from all men alike.
While thus the rich wines of Frontiniac impart
Their sweets to our palate, their warmth to our heart,
All in praise of a liquor so luscious agree,

From the monarch of France to the wild Cherokee.

XIII.

See Burke's bright intelligence beams from his face,
To his language gives splendour, his action gives grace;
Let us list to the learning that tongue can display,
Let it steal all reflection, all reason away;
Lest home to his house we the patriot pursue,
Where scenes of another sort rise to our view;