■ 
 
 
 
 
 
 K* - 
 
 
 
 
 r 
 
 
 
 J' 
 
 
 
 
 A, 
 
 '(if 
 
 ■HB 
 
 I 
 
 if' 4 
 
 m 
 
I 
 
 LIFE 
 
 WILLIAM BLAKE. 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2014 
 
 https://archive.org/details/lifeofwilliambla02gilc_0 
 
M D H 9 ? 
 
 LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 WILLIAM BLAKE, 
 
 
 "PICTOR I a NOT US." 
 
 WITH SELECTIONS FEOM HIS POEMS AND OTHER WRITINGS 
 
 ALEXANDER GILCHRIST, 
 
 OP THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BAREISTER-AT-LAW; 
 AUTHOR OF "THE LIFE OF WILLIAM E T T Y, R.A." 
 
 ILLUSTRATED FROM BLAKE'S OWN WORKS, 
 
 IN FACSIMILE" BY. W. J. LINTON, 
 AND IN PHOTOLITHOGRAPHY; 
 WITH A FEW OF BLAKE'S ORIGINAL PLATES. 
 
 I N TWO VOLUMES. 
 VOL. II. 
 
 gtottbflw attfr Cambridge: 
 MA CMILL AN AND CO. 
 1863. 
 
 BY THE LATE 
 
 [The Riylii of Translation is reserved.] 
 
LONDON : 
 
 R CLAY, SON, AND TAYLOR, PRINTERS, 
 BREAD STREET HILL. 
 
CONTENTS OF VOLUME II. 
 
 PART II. SELECTIONS. 
 
 POETICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Introductory Note ..." 3 
 
 Song. My silks and fine array 4 
 
 Song. Love and harmony combine 5 
 
 Song. I love the jocund dance 6 
 
 Mad Song. The mild winds weep 7 
 
 Song. Hoio sweet I roamed from field to field 8 
 
 Song. Memory, hither come * 9 
 
 To the Muses. Whether on Ida's shady brow . . ' 10 
 
 To the Evening Star. Thou fair-hair 'd angel of the Evening 11 
 
 To Spring. 0 thou with dewy locks who lookest down 12 
 
 To Summer. 0 thou who passest thro* our valleys in 13 
 
 Blind-Man's Burr. When silver snow decks Susan's clothes 14 
 
 King Edward the Third (Selections from) 16 
 
 SONGS OF INNOCENCE. 
 
 Introductory Note 25 
 
 Introduction. Piping down the valleys wild - 26 
 
 The Shepherd. How sweet is the shepherd's sweet lot 27 
 
 The Echoing Green. The sun does arise 28 
 
 The Lamb. Little lamb, who made thee ? 29 
 
 The Little Black Boy. My mother bore me in the southern wild 30 
 
 The Blossom. Merry, merry sparroio ! 31 
 
 The Chimney-Sweeper. When my mother died I was very young 32 
 
 The Little Boy Lost. Father, father, where are you going ? 33 
 
 The Little Boy Eound. The little boy lost in the lonely fen 33 
 
 Laughing Song. When the green tooodt, laugh with the voice of joy 34 
 
 v vj A Cradle Song. Sweet dreams form a shade 35 
 
 0 N The Divine Image. To mercy, pity, peace, and love 3G 
 
 ^ Holy Thursday. 'Twas on a Holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean ... 37 
 
vi 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Night. The sun descending in the West 38 
 
 Spring. Sound the flute ! 40 
 
 Nurse's Song. When the voices of children are heard on the green 41 
 
 Infant J oy. I have no name 42 
 
 A Dream. Once a dream did toeave a shade 43 
 
 On Another's Sorrow. Can I see another's woe 44 
 
 The Voice op the Ancient Bard. Youth of delight, come hither ..... 46 
 
 SONGS OE EXPERIENCE. 
 
 Introduction. Hear the voice of the bard 47 
 
 Earth's Answer. Earth raised up her head 48 
 
 The Clod and the Pebble. Love seelceth not itself to please 49 
 
 Holy Thursday. Is this a holy thing to see 50 
 
 The Little Girl Lost . In futurity 51 
 
 The Little Girl Eound. All the night in woe 53 
 
 The Chimney Sweeper. A little black thing among the snow . . -. . . . 55 
 
 The Sick Rose. 0 Rose, thou art sick 56 
 
 Nurse's Song. When the voices of children are heard on the green 56 
 
 The Ely. Little Fly . 57 
 
 The Angel. I dreamt a dream ! What can it mean? 58 
 
 The Tiger. Tiger, tiger, burning bright 59 
 
 My Pretty Rose Tree. A flower was offer' d to me 60 
 
 Ah Sunflower! Ah Sunfloioer ! weary of time 60 
 
 The Lily. The modest rose puts forth a thorn 61 
 
 The Garden op Loye. / laid me down upon a bank 61 
 
 The Little Vagabond. Bear mother, dear mother, the church is cold . . . . 62 
 
 London. I ivander through each chartered street 63 
 
 The Human Abstract. Pity would be no more 64 
 
 Infant Sorrow. My mother groaned, my father wept 65 
 
 Christian Eorbearance. I was angry with my friend 65 
 
 A Little Boy Lost. Nought loves another as itself 66 
 
 A Little Girl Lost. Children of the future age 67 
 
 A Cradle Song. Sleep, sleep, beauty bright 68 
 
 The Schoolboy. / love to rise on a summer morn 69 
 
 To Tirzah. Whatever is born of mortal birth 70 
 
 THE BOOK OE THEL 71 
 
 POEMS HITHERTO UNPUBLISHED. 
 
 Introductory Note » 76 
 
 The Birds. Where thou dwellest, in what grove . * 78 
 
 Broken Love. My spectre around me night and day 79 
 
 The Two Songs. / heard an angel singing 81 
 
 The Defiled Sanctuary. I saw a chapel, all of gold 82 
 
CONTENTS. Vli 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Cupid. Why was Cupid a boy ? 83 
 
 The Woman taken in Adultery. The vision of Christ that thou dost see . . 84 
 
 Love's Secret. Never seek to tell thy love 86 
 
 The Wild Flower's Song. As I wandered in the forest 87 
 
 The Crystal Cabinet. The maiden caught me in the wild 88 
 
 Smile and Frown. There is a smile of love 89 
 
 The Golden Net. Beneath a white thorn's lovely May 90 
 
 The Land of Dreams/. Awake, aicake, my little boy ! 91 
 
 Mary. Sweet Mary, jtjie first time she ever tvas there 92 
 
 Auguries of Innocence. To see a world in a grain of sand . ■ 94 
 
 The Mental Traveller, I travelled through a land of men 98 
 
 William Bond. I wonder whether the girls are mad 103 
 
 Scoffers. Mock on, mock on, Voltaire, Rousseau 105 
 
 The Agony of Faith. I see, I see, the mother said .« ... 106 
 
 Daybreak. To find the western path 107 
 
 Thames and Ohio. Why should I care for the men of Thames 107 
 
 Young Love. Are not the joys of morning sweeter 108 
 
 Riches. Since \all the riches of this ivorld 108 
 
 Opportunity. He who bends to himself a joy 109 
 
 Seed Sowing. Thou hast a lapful of seed 109 
 
 Barren Blossom. I feared the fury of my wind 110 
 
 Night and Day. Silent, silent night 110 
 
 In a Myrtle Shade. To a lovely myrtle bound . % Ill 
 
 Couplets and Fragments 112 
 
 Epigrams and Satirical Pieces on Art and Artists 114 
 
 PROSE WRITINGS. 
 
 Introductory Note 118 
 
 Descriptive Catalogue 119 
 
 Public Address 144 
 
 Memoranda by Blake of his Modes of Engraving 158 
 
 Sybilline Leaves v 159 
 
 A Vision of the Last Judgment 161 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Letters from Blake to Mr. Butts 178 
 
 Annotated Catalogue of Blake's Pictures and Drawings. List I. of 
 Works in Colours. 
 
 Section a. Dated Works 201 
 
 Section b. Undated Works, Biblical and Sacred 223 
 
 Ditto ditto Poetic and Miscellaneous . . . ' . . .232 
 
contents. viii 
 
 PAGE 
 
 List II. Uncoloured Works. 
 
 Section a. Dated Works 240 
 
 Section b. Undated Works, Biblical and Sacred 246 
 
 Ditto ditto Poetic and Miscellaneous 248 
 
 List III. Works of Unascertained Method. 
 
 Biblical and Sacred 255 
 
 Poetic and Miscellaneous 255 
 
 Account between Blake and Mr. Butts 256 
 
 List oe Engravings. 
 
 Works designed as well as engraved by Blake 257 
 
 Works engraved, but not designed by Blake 259 
 
 Works designed, but not engraved by Blake 261 
 
 List oe Writings 261 
 
 Prospectus by Blake issued in 1793 263 
 
 Engraved Designs by Blake 265 
 
 The Book of Job. 
 
 Songs of Innocence and Experience. 
 
 < 
 
SELECTIONS 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 B 
 
I give you the end of a golden string : 
 
 Only wind it into a ball, 
 It will lead you in at Heaven's gate, 
 
 Built in Jerusalem wall. 
 
FROM THE POETICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 [Printed in 1783. Written 1768—77. Mt. 11-20.] 
 
 There is no need for many further critical remarks on these selections from the 
 Poetical Sketches, which have already been spoken of in Chap. VI. of the Life. Among 
 the lyrical pieces here chosen, it would be difficult to award a distinct preference. 
 These Songs are certainly among the small class of modern times which recall the best 
 period of English song writing, whose rarest treasures lie scattered among the plays of 
 our Elizabethan dramatists. They deserve no less than very high admiration in a quite 
 positive sense, which cannot be even qualified by the slight hasty or juvenile imper- 
 fections of execution to be met with in some of them, though by no means in all. On 
 the other hand, if we view them comparatively ; in relation to Blake's youth when he 
 wrote them, or the poetic epoch in which they were produced ; it would be hardly 
 possible to overrate their astonishing merit. The same return to the diction and high 
 feeling of a greater age is to be found in the unfinished play of ' Edward the Third,' 
 from which some fragments are included here. In the original edition, however, these 
 are marred by frequent imperfections in the metre (partly real and partly dependent on 
 careless printing), which I have thought it best to remove, as I found it possible to do so 
 without once in the slightest degree affecting the originality of the text. The same has 
 been done in a few similar instances elsewhere. The poem of ' Blind Man's Buff' stands 
 in curious contrast with the rest, as an effort in another manner, and, though less 
 excellent, is not without interest. Besides what is here given, there are attempts in the 
 very modern-antique style of ballad prevalent at the time, and in Ossianic prose, but all 
 naturally very inferior, and probably earlier. It is singular that, for formed style and 
 purely literary qualities, Blake perhaps never afterwards equalled the best things in 
 this youthful volume, though he often did so in melody and feeling, and more than did 
 so in depth of thought. 
 
 b2 
 
4 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE' S WRITINGS. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 My silks and fine array, 
 
 My smiles and languished air, 
 
 By love are driven away. 
 And mournful lean Despair 
 
 Brings me yew to deck my grave : 
 
 Such end true lovers have. 
 
 His face is fair as heaven 
 When springing buds unfold ; 
 
 Oh, why to Mm was't given, 
 Whose heart is wintry cold? 
 
 His breast is Love's all-worshipped tomb 
 
 Where all love's pilgrims come. 
 
 Bring me an axe and spade, 
 
 Bring me a winding-sheet ; 
 When I my grave have made, 
 
 Let winds and tempests beat : 
 Then down I'll lie, as cold as clay, 
 True love doth pass away ! 
 
POETICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 5 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Love and harmony combine 
 And around our souls entwine, 
 While thy branches mix with mine 
 And our roots together join. 
 
 Joys upon our branches sit, 
 Chirping loud and singing sweet ; 
 Like gentle streams beneath our feet, 
 Innocence and virtue meet. 
 
 Thou the golden fruit dost bear, 
 I am clad in flowers fair ; 
 Thy sweet boughs perfume the air, 
 And the turtle buildeth there. 
 
 There she sits and feeds her young ; 
 Sweet I hear her mournful song : 
 And thy lovely leaves among, 
 There is Love : I hear his tongue. 
 
 There his charm'd nest he doth lay, 
 There he sleeps the night away, 
 There he sports along the day, 
 And doth among our branches play. 
 
6 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BIAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 SOXG. 
 
 I love the jocund dance, 
 
 The softly-breathing song, 
 Where innocent eyes do glance, 
 
 Where lisps the maiden's tongue. 
 
 I love the laughing vale, 
 
 I love the echoing hill, 
 Where mirth does never fail, 
 
 And the jolly swain laughs his fill. 
 
 I love the pleasant cot, 
 I love the innocent bower, 
 
 Where white and brown is our lot, 
 Or fruit in the mid-day hour. 
 
 I love the oaken seat 
 
 Beneath the oaken tree, 
 Where all the old villagers meet, 
 
 And laugh our sports to see. 
 
 I love our neighbours all, 
 
 But, Kitty, I better love thee : 
 
 And love them I ever shall, 
 But thou art all to me. 
 
POETICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 MAD SONG. 
 
 The wild winds weep, 
 And the night is a- cold ; 
 
 Come hither, Sleep, 
 And my griefs unfold ! 
 
 But lo ! the Morning peeps 
 
 Over the eastern steeps, 
 
 And rustling birds of dawn 
 
 The earth do scorn. 
 
 Lo ! to the vault 
 
 Of paved heaven, 
 With sorrow fraught, 
 
 My notes are driven : 
 They strike the ear of night, 
 
 Make weep the eyes of day ; 
 They make mad the roaring winds, 
 
 And with tempests play. 
 
 Like a fiend in a cloud, 
 
 With howling woe 
 After night I do crowd, 
 
 And with night will go ; 
 I turn my back to the East 
 Whence comforts have increas'd ; 
 For light doth seize my brain 
 With frantic pain. 
 
8 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 How sweet I roamed from field to field, 
 And tasted all the summer's pride, 
 
 'Till I the Prince of Love beheld, 
 Who in the sunny beams did glide ! 
 
 He show'd me lilies for my hair, 
 And blushing roses for my brow ; 
 
 He led me through his gardens fair, 
 Where all his golden pleasures grow. 
 
 With sweet May dews my wings were wet, 
 And Phoebus fired my vocal rage ; 
 
 He caught me in his silken net, 
 And shut me in his golden cage. 
 
 He loves to sit and hear me sing, 
 
 Then, laughing, sports and plays with me ; 
 
 Then stretches out my golden wing, 
 And mocks my loss of liberty. 
 
POETICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 9 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Memory, hither come, 
 
 And tune your merry notes , 
 And, while upon the wind 
 
 Your music floats, 
 I'll pore upon the stream 
 Where sighing lovers dream, 
 And fish for fancies as they pass 
 Within the watery glass. 
 
 I'll drink of the clear stream, 
 And hear the linnet's song ; 
 
 And there I'll lie and dream 
 The day along: 
 
 And, when night comes, I'll go 
 
 To places fit for woe ; 
 
 Walking along the darkened valley 
 
 With silent Melancholy. 
 
SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 TO THE MUSES. 
 
 Whether on Ida's shady brow, 
 Or in the chambers of the East, 
 
 The chambers of the sun that now 
 From ancient melody have ceased ; 
 
 Whether in Heaven ye wander fair, 
 Or the green corners of the earth, 
 
 Or the blue regions of the air, 
 
 Where the melodious winds have birth ; 
 
 Whether on crystal rocks ye rove 
 Beneath the bosom of the sea, 
 
 Wandering in many a coral grove ; 
 Fair Mne, forsaking Poetry; 
 
 How have you left the ancient love 
 That bards of old enjoy'd in you ! 
 
 The languid strings do scarcely move, 
 The sound is forced, the notes are few. 
 
POETICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 TO THE EVENING STAE. 
 
 Thou fair-hair'd angel of the Evening, 
 
 Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains, light 
 
 Thy brilliant torch of love ; thy radiant crown 
 
 Put on, and smile upon our evening bed ! 
 
 Smile on our loves ; and whilst thou drawest round 
 
 The curtains of the sky, scatter thy dew 
 
 On every flower that closes its sweet eyes 
 
 In timely sleep. let thy west wind sleep on 
 
 The lake ; speak silence with thy glimmering eyes, 
 
 And wash the dusk with silver. Soon, full soon 
 
 Dost thou withdraw ; then the wolf rages wide, 
 
 And then the lion glares through the dun forest. 
 
 The fleeces of our flocks are covered with 
 
 Thy sacred dew : protect them with thine influence. 
 
SELECTIONS FEOM BLAKE'S WEITINGS. 
 
 TO SPKING. 
 
 O thou, with dewy locks, who lookest down 
 Thro' the clear windows of the morning, turn 
 Thine angel eyes upon our western isle, 
 Which in full choir hails thy approach, 0 Spring 
 
 The hills do tell each other, and the listening 
 Valleys hear ; all our longing eyes are turned 
 Up to thy bright pavilion : issue forth, 
 And let thy holy feet visit our clirne S 
 
 Come o'er the eastern hills, and let our winds 
 Kiss thy perfumed garments ; let us taste 
 Thy morn and evening breath ; scatter thy pearls 
 Upon our love-sick land that mourns for thee. 
 
 0 deck her forth with thy fair fingers ; pour 
 Thy softest kisses on her bosom, and put 
 Thy golden crown upon her languish'd head 
 Whose modest tresses were bound up for thee. 
 
POETICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 TO SUMMER. 
 
 0 thou who passest thro' our valleys in 
 Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat 
 That flames from their large nostrils ! Thou, 0 summer 
 Oft pitched'st here thy golden tent, and oft 
 Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld 
 With joy thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair. 
 
 Beneath our thickest shades we oft have heard 
 Thy voice, when noon upon his fervid car 
 Eode o'er the deep of heaven. Beside our springs 
 Sit down, and in our mossy valleys ; on 
 Some bank beside a river clear, throw all 
 Thy draperies off, and rush into the stream ! 
 Our valleys love the Summer in his pride. 
 
 Our bards are famed who strike the silver wire ; 
 Our youths are bolder than the southern swains ; 
 Our maidens fairer in the sprightly dance ; 
 We lack not songs, nor instruments of joy, 
 Nor echoes sweet, nor waters clear as heaven, 
 Nor laurel wreaths against the sultry heat. * 
 
SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 BLIND-MAN'S BUFF. 
 
 When silver snow decks Susan's clothes, 
 And jewel hangs at th' shepherd's nose, 
 The chimney-nook is all my care, 
 With hearth so red and walls so fair ; 
 'Heap the sea-coal, come, heap it higher, 
 ' The oaken log lay on the fire.' 
 The well-washed stools, a circling row, 
 With lad and lass, how fair the show ! 
 The merry can of nut-brown ale, 
 The laughing jest, the love-sick tale : 
 'Till, tired of chat, the game begins, 
 The lasses prick the lads with pins ; 
 Eoger from Dolly twitched the stool, 
 She falling, kissed the ground, poor fool ! 
 She blushed so red, with side-long glance 
 At hob-nail Dick who grieved the chance. 
 But now for Blind-man's Buff they call ; 
 Of each incumbrance clear the hall ! 
 
 Jenny her silken 'kerchief folds, 
 And blear-eyed Will the black lot holds ; 
 Now, laughing, stops, with 'Silence! hush 
 And Peggy Pout gives Sam a push. 
 The Blind-man's arms, extended wide, 
 Sam slips between ; — 0 woe betide 
 Thee, clumsy Will ! — but tittering Kate 
 Is penned up in the corner strait ! 
 And now Will's eyes beheld the play, 
 He thought his face was t'other way. 
 Now, Kitty, now ! what chance hast thou ' 
 Eoger so near thee trips ! — I vow 
 She catches him ! — then Boger ties 
 His own head up, but not his eyes ; 
 For thro' the slender cloth he sees, 
 
POETICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 And runs at Sam, who slips with ease 
 
 His clumsy hold ; and, dodging round, 
 
 Sukey is tumbled on the ground ! 
 
 See what it is to play unfair! 
 
 Where cheating is, there's mischief there. 
 
 But Eoger still pursues the chace, — 
 
 ' He sees ! he sees ! ' cries softly Grace. 
 
 O Eoger, thou, unskilTd in art, 
 
 Must, surer bound, go through thy part ! 
 
 Now Kitty, pert, repeats the rhymes, 
 And Eoger turns him round three times ; 
 Then pauses ere he starts — But Dick 
 Was mischief-bent upon a trick: 
 Down on his hands and knees he lay, 
 Directly in the Blind-man's way — 
 Then cries out, ' Hem ! ' Hodge heard, and ran 
 With hood-winked chance — sure of his man ; 
 But down he came. — Alas, how frail 
 Our best of hopes, how soon they fail ! 
 With crimsom drops he stains the ground, 
 Confusion startles all around ! 
 Poor piteous Dick supports his head, 
 And fain would cure the hurt he made ; 
 But Kitty hastens with a key, 
 And down his back they straight convey 
 The cold relief; the blood is stay'd, 
 And Hodge again holds up his head. 
 
 Such are the fortunes of the game ; 
 And those who play should stop the same 
 By wholesome laws : such as, — all those 
 Who on the blinded man impose 
 Stand in his stead. So, long a-gone, 
 When men were first a nation grown, 
 Lawless they lived, till wantonness 
 And liberty began to increase, 
 And one man lay in another's way : 
 Then laws were made to keep fair play. 
 
16 
 
 SELECTIONS FEOM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 KING EDWAED THE THIRD. 
 (selections.) 
 
 SCENE I. — The coast of France: King Edward and Nobles before 
 
 it ; the Army. 
 
 King Our names are written equal 
 
 In Fame's wide-trophied halls ; 'tis ours to gild 
 The letters, and to make them shine with gold 
 That never tarnishes : whether Third Edward, 
 Or Prince of "Wales or Montacute or Mortimer, 
 Or e'en the least by birth, gain brightest fame, 
 Is in His hand to whom all men are equal. 
 The world of men is like the numerous stars 
 That beam and twinkle in the depth of night, 
 Each clad in glory according to his sphere : — 
 But we that wander from our native seats, 
 And beam forth lustre on a darkling world, 
 Grow larger as we advance ; and some, perhaps 
 The most obscure at home, that scarce were seen 
 To twinkle in their sphere, may so advance 
 That the astonish'd world, with upturn'd eyes, 
 Regardless of the moon and those once bright, 
 Stand only but to gaze upon their splendour. 
 
 [He here knights the Prince and other young Nobles. 
 Now let us take a just revenge for those 
 Brave lords who fell beneath the bloody axe 
 At Paris. Noble Harcourt, thanks, for 'twas 
 By your advice we landed here in Brittany, 
 A country not as yet sown with destruction, 
 And where the fiery whirlwind of swift war 
 Hath not yet swept its desolating wing. 
 Into three parties we divide by day, 
 And separate march, but join again at night : 
 Each knows his rank, and Heaven marshal alL [Exeunt. 
 
POETICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 17 
 
 SCENE III. — At Cressy. The King and Sir Thomas Dagworth. 
 The Prince of Wales and Sir John Chandos. 
 
 King. What can Sir Thomas Dagworth 
 Bequest that Edward can refuse ? 
 
 Dagw. I hope 
 Your majesty cannot refuse so mere 
 A trifle : I Ve gilt your cause with my best blood, 
 And would again, were I not now forbid 
 By him whom I am bound to obey. My hands 
 Are tied up, all my courage shrunk and wither'd, 
 My sinews slacken' d, and my voice scarce heard : 
 Therefore I beg I may return to England. 
 
 King, I know not what you could have ask'd, Sir Thomas, 
 That I would not have sooner parted with 
 Than such a soldier as you, and such a friend ; 
 Nay, I will know the most remote particulars 
 Of this your strange petition, that if 1 can 
 I still may keep you here. 
 
 Dagw. Here on the fields of Cressy we are settled, 
 'Till Philip spring the timorous covey again. 
 The wolf is hunted down by causeless fear ; 
 The lion flees, and fear usurps his heart, 
 Startled, astonish'd at the clamorous cock. 
 The eagle that doth gaze upon the sun 
 Fears the small fire that plays about the fen ; 
 If at this moment of their idle fear 
 The dog seize the wolf, the forester the lion, 
 The negro, in the crevice of the rock, 
 Seize on the soaring eagle, undone by flight 
 They tame submit — such the effect flight has 
 On noble souls. Now hear its opposite : 
 The timorous stag starts from the thicket wild, 
 The fearful crane springs from the plashy fen, 
 The shining snake glides o'er the bending grass : 
 The stag turns head, and bays the crying hounds, 
 The crane o'ertaken fighteth with the hawk, 
 The snake doth turn and bite the padding foot. 
 
 VOL. II. c 
 
18 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE' S WRITINGS. 
 
 And if your majesty's afraid of Philip, 
 You are more like a lion than a crane ; 
 Therefore I beg I may return to England. 
 
 King. Sir Thomas, now I understand your mirth, 
 Which often plays with wisdom for its pastime, 
 And brings good counsel from the breast of laughter. 
 I hope you'll stay, and see us fight this battle, 
 And reap rich harvest in the field of Cressy, 
 Then go to England, tell them how we fight, 
 And set all hearts on fire to be with us. 
 Philip is plum'd, and thinks w T e flee from him, ' 
 Else he would never dare to attack us. Now, 
 Now is the quarry set ! and Death doth sport 
 In the bright sunshine of this fatal day. 
 
 Dagw. Now my heart dances, and I am as light 
 As the young bridegroom going to be married. 
 Now must I to my soldiers, get them ready, 
 Furbish our armours bright, new plume our helms, 
 And we will sing like the young housewives busied 
 In the dairy. Now my feet are wing'd, but not 
 For flight, an 't please your grace. 
 
 King. If all my soldiers are as pleased as you, 
 'Twill be a gallant thing to fight or die. 
 Then I can never be afraid of Philip. 
 
 Dagvj. A rawbon'd fellow t'other day pass'd by me ; 
 I told him to put off his hungry looks ; 
 He said : ' I hunger for another battle.' 
 I saw a Welchman with a fiery face : 
 I told him that he look'd like a candle half 
 Burn'd out. He answer' d he was ' pig enough 
 To light another pattle.' Last night beneath 
 The moon I walk'd abroad when all had pitch'd 
 Their tents, and all were still: 
 I heard a blooming youth singing a song 
 He had compos' d, and at each pause he wip'd 
 His dropping eyes. The ditty was, — ' If he 
 Eeturn'd victorious he should wed a maiden 
 Fairer than snow and rich as midsummer.' 
 Another wept, and wish'd health to his father. 
 I chid them both, but gave them noble hopes. 
 
POETICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 19 
 
 These are the minds that glory in the battle, 
 And leap and dance to hear the trumpet sound. 
 
 King. Sir Thomas Dagworth, be thou near our person : 
 Thy heart is richer than the vales of France ; 
 I will not part with such a man as thou. 
 If Philip came arm'd in the ribs of death, 
 And shook his mortal dart against my head, 
 Thou'dst laugh his fury into nerveless shame ! 
 Go now, for thou art suited to the work, 
 Throughout the camp; inflame the timorous, 
 Blow up the sluggish into ardour, and 
 Confirm the strong with strength, the weak inspire, 
 And wing their brows with hope and expectation : 
 Then to our tent return, and meet the Council. 
 
 [Exit Dagwokth. 
 
 Prince. Now we are alone, Sir John, I will unburthen 
 And breathe my hopes into the burning air, 
 Where thousand deaths are posting up and down, 
 Commission'd to this fatal field of Cressy. 
 Methinks I see them arm my gallant soldiers, 
 And gird the sword upon each thigh, and fit 
 Each shining helm, and string each stubborn bow, 
 And dance unto the neighing of our steeds : 
 Methinks the shout begins, the battle burns ; 
 Methinks I see them perch on English crests, 
 And roar the wild flame of fierce war upon 
 The thronged enemy. In truth, I am too full ; 
 It is my. sin to love the noise of war. 
 Chandos, thou seest my weakness ; for strong Nature 
 Will bend or break us. My blood like a spring-tide 
 Does rise so high to overflow all bounds 
 Of moderation; while Eeason in her 
 Frail bark can see no shore or bound for vast 
 Ambition. Come then, take the helm, my Chandos 
 That my full blown sails overset me not 
 In the wild tempest ; condemn my venturous youth 
 That plays with danger as the innocent child, 
 
 c 2 
 
20 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 Unthinking, plays upon the viper's den : 
 I am a coward in my reason, Chandos. 
 
 Chandos. You are a man, my Prince, and a brave man, 
 If I can judge of actions ; but your heat 
 Is the effect of youth and want of use ; 
 Use makes the armed field and noisy war 
 Pass over as a cloud does, unregarded, 
 Or but expected as a thing of course. 
 4ge is contemplative ; each rolling year 
 Doth bring forth fruit to the mind's treasure house ; 
 While vacant Youth doth crave and seek about 
 Within itself, and findeth discontent ; 
 Then, tir'd of thought, impatient takes the wing, 
 Seizes the fruits of Time, attacks Experience, 
 Koams round vast Nature's forest, where no bounds 
 Are set ; the swiftest may have room, the strongest 
 Find prey ; till, tir'd at length, sated and tir'd 
 With the still changing sameness, old variety, 
 We sit us down, and view our former joys 
 As worthless. 
 
 Prince. Then, if we must tug for experience, 
 Let us not fear to beat round Nature's wilds 
 And rouse the strongest prey ; then if we fall, 
 We fall with glory : for I know the wolf 
 Is dangerous to fight, not good for food, 
 Nor is the hide a comely vestment ; so 
 We have our battle for our pains. I know 
 That youth has need of age to point fit prey, 
 And oft the stander-by shall steal the fruit 
 Of the other's labour. This is philosophy ; 
 These are the tricks of the world ; but the pure soul 
 Shall mount on wings, disdaining little sport, 
 And cut a path into the heaven of glory, 
 Leaving a track of light for men to wonder at. 
 I'm glad my father does not hear me talk : 
 You can find friendly excuses for me, Chandos ; 
 But, do you not think, Sir John, that if it please 
 The Almighty to stretch out my span of life 
 I shall with pleasure view a glorious action 
 Which my youth master'd ? 
 
POETICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 21 
 
 Ghand. Age, my lord, views motives, 
 And views not acts. When neither warbling voice 
 Nor trilling pipe is heard, nor pleasure sits 
 With trembling age, the voice of Conscience, then 
 Sweeter than music in a summer's eve, 
 Shall warble round the snowy head, and keep 
 Sweet symphony to feather'd angels sitting 
 As guardians round your chair ; then shall the pulse 
 Beat slow ; and taste and touch, sight, sound, and smell, 
 That sing and dance round Eeason's fine-wrought throne, 
 Shall flee away, and leave him all forlorn — 
 
 Yet not forlorn if Conscience is his friend. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE V. — In Sir Thomas Dag worth's Tent. To him enter Sir 
 
 Walter Manny. 
 
 Sir Walter. Sir Thomas Dagworth, I have been a-weeping 
 Over the men that are to die to-day. 
 
 Dagw. Why, brave Sir Walter, you or I may fall. 
 
 Sir Walter. I know this breathing flesh must lie and rot 
 Cover'd with silence and forgetfulness. — 
 Death wons in cities' smoke, and in still night, 
 When men sleep in their beds, walketh about ! 
 How many in walled cities lie and groan, 
 Turning themselves about upon their beds, 
 Talking with Death, answering his hard demands ! 
 How many walk in darkness, terrors around 
 The curtains of their beds, destruction still 
 Eeady without the door ! how many sleep 
 In earth, cover'd with stones and deathy dust, 
 Eesting in quietness, whose spirits walk 
 Upon the clouds of heaven, to die no more ! 
 Yet death is terrible, though on angels' wings : 
 How terrible, then, is the field of death ! 
 Where he doth rend the vault of heav'n, and shake 
 The gates of hell ! Oh Dagworth ! France is sick : 
 The very sky, tho' sunshine light it, seems 
 To me as pale as the pale fainting man 
 
22 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 On his death-bed, whose face is shown by light 
 Of sickly taper ! It makes me sad and sick 
 At very heart. Thousands must fall to-day. 
 
 Dagw. Thousands of souls must leave this prison house 
 To be exalted to those heavenly fields, 
 Where songs of triumph, palms of victory, 
 "Where peace, and joy, and love, and calm content 
 Sit singing in the azure clouds, and strew 
 Flowers of heaven's growth over the banquet table. 
 Bind ardent Hope upon your feet like shoes, 
 Put on the robe of preparation, 
 The table is prepar'd in shining heav'n, 
 The flowers of immortality are blown; 
 Let those that fight fight in good steadfastness, 
 And those that fall shall rise in victory. 
 
 Sir Walter. I've often seen the burning field of war 
 And often heard the dismal clang of arms ; 
 But never, till this fatal day of Cressy, 
 Has my soul fainted with these views of death. 
 I seem to be in one great charnel-house, 
 And seem to scent the rotten carcases ! 
 I seem to hear the dismal yells of Death, 
 While the black gore drops from his horrid jaws ; 
 Yet I not fear the monster in his pride. — 
 But oh, the souls that are to die to-day ! 
 
 Dagw. Stop, brave Sir Walter, let me drop a tear, 
 Then let the clarion of war begin ; 
 I'll fight and weep ! 'tis in my country's cause ; 
 I'll weep and shout for glorious liberty. 
 Grim War shall laugh and shout, bedeck'd in tears, 
 And blood shall flow like streams across the meadows, 
 That murmur down their pebbly channels, and 
 Spend their sweet lives to do their country service. 
 Then England's leaves shall shoot, her fields shall smile, 
 Her ships shall sing across the foaming sea, 
 Her mariners shall use the flute and viol, 
 And rattling guns and black and dreary war 
 Shall be no more. 
 
 Sir Walter. Well, let the trumpet sound and the drum beat ; 
 Let war stain the blue heavens with bloody banners. 
 
POETICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 23 
 
 I'll draw my sword, nor ever sheath it up, 
 Till England blow the trump of victory, 
 
 Or I lie stretch'd upon the field of death. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE VI. — In the Camp. Several of the Warriors met in the 
 King's Tent. A minstrel sings. 
 
 O Sons of Trojan Brutus, cloth'd in war, 
 Whose voices are the thunder of the field, 
 
 Your ancestors came from the fires of Troy, 
 (Like lions rous'd by light'ning from their dens, 
 Whose eyes do glare against the stormy fires,) 
 Heated with war, fill'd with the blood of Greeks, 
 With helmets hewn, and shields covered with gore, 
 In navies black, broken with wind and tide. 
 
 They landed in firm array upon the rocks 
 
 Of Albion ; they kiss'd the rocky shore : 
 
 ' Be thou our mother and our nurse/ they said, 
 
 ' Our children's mother ; and thou shalt be our grave, 
 
 ' The sepulchre of ancient Troy, from whence 
 
 ' Shall rise cities, and thrones, and awful powers.' 
 
 Our fathers swarm from the ships. Giant voices 
 Are heard from out the hills ; the enormous sons 
 Of Ocean run from rocks and caves : wild men, 
 Naked, and roaring like lions, hurling rocks, 
 And wielding knotty clubs, like oaks entangled, 
 Thick as a forest ready for the axe. 
 
 Our fathers move in firm array to battle ; 
 The savage monsters rush like roaring fire, 
 Like as a forest roars with crackling flames, 
 When the red lightning borne by furious storms 
 Lights on some woody shore, and the parch'd heavens 
 Eain fire into the molten raging sea. 
 
 Our fathers, sweating, lean on their spears and view 
 
24 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 The mighty dead : giant bodies streaming blood., 
 
 Dread visages frowning in silent death. 
 
 Then Brutus speaks, inspired ; our fathers sit 
 
 Attentive on the melancholy shore. 
 
 Hear ye the voice of Brutus : — ' The flowing waves 
 
 ' Of Time come rolling o'er my breast/ he said, 
 
 ' And my heart labours with futurity. 
 
 ' Our sons shall rule the empire of the sea, 
 
 ' Their mighty wings shall stretch from east to west ; 
 
 ' Their nest is in the sea, but they shall roam 
 
 ' Like eagles for their prey . . . 
 
 * Our sons shall rise from thrones in joy, each one 
 ' Buckling his armour on ; Morning shall be 
 
 ' Prevented by the gleaming of their swords, 
 ' And Evening hear their song of victory. 
 
 ' Freedom shall stand upon the cliffs of Albion, 
 
 * Casting her blue eyes over the green ocean ; 
 ' Or, towering, stand upon the roaring waves, 
 
 ' Stretching her mighty spear o'er distant lands, 
 ' While with her eagle wings she covereth 
 4 Fair Albion's shore and all her families.' 
 
SONGS OP INNOCENCE. 
 
 [Engraved 1789.] 
 
 [Here again but little need be added to what has been already said in the Life 
 respecting the Songs of Innocence and Experience. The first series is incomparably th e 
 more beautiful of the two, being indeed almost flawless in essential respects ; while in 
 the second series, the five years intervening between the two had proved sufficient for 
 obscurity and the darker mental phases of Blake's writings to set in and greatly mar its 
 poetic value. This contrast is more especially evident in those pieces whose subjects 
 tally in one and the other series. For instance, there can be no comparison between the 
 first Chimney Sweeper, which touches with such perfect simplicity the true pathetic 
 chord of its subject, and the second, tinged merely with the common- places of social 
 discontent. However, very perfect and noble examples of Blake's metaphysical poetry 
 occur among the Songs of Experience, such as Christian Forbearance, and The Human 
 Abstract. One piece, the second Cradle Song, I have myself introduced from the MS. 
 note-book often referred to, since there can be no doubt that it was written to match 
 with the first, and it has quite sufficient beauty to give it a right to its natural place. A 
 few alterations and additions in other poems have been made from the same source. As 
 the purpose of these republications from Blake is hardly furthered by including any- 
 thing of inferior value, I confess that it occurred to me at first to omit any pieces 
 which seemed really chargeable with triviality and incompleteness, and therefore likely 
 to obstruct appreciation with many readers ; but I was unwilling, on mature reflection, 
 to dismember the work as Bla,ke wrote it, particularly as the second section would 
 have thus come to bear no proportion in bulk to the first. Here, then, is the whole ; 
 and assuredly its beauties, surpassing in degree, and perhaps unparalleled in kind, not 
 only greatly, outweigh its defects, but are also clearly separable from them.] 
 
SELECTIONS FKOM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Piping down the valleys wild, 
 Piping songs of pleasant glee, 
 
 On a cloud I saw a child, 
 
 And he, laughing, said to me : 
 
 ' Pipe a song about a Lamb ! ' 
 
 So I piped with merry cheer. 
 ' Piper, pipe that song again ;' 
 
 So I piped : he wept to hear. 
 
 ' Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe ; 
 Sing thy songs of happy cheer !' 
 So I sang the same again, 
 While he wept with joy to hear. 
 
 ' Piper, sit thee down and write 
 
 In a book, that all may read.' 
 So he vanish'd from my sight, 
 And I pluck'd a hollow reed, 
 
 And I made a rural pen, 
 
 And I stain' d the water clear, 
 
 And I wrote my happy songs 
 Every child may joy to hear. 
 
SONGS OF INNOCENCE. 
 
 THE SHEPHEBD. 
 
 How sweet is the shepherd's sweet lot ! 
 From the morn to the evening he strays ; 
 He shall follow his sheep all the day, 
 And his tongue shall be filled with praise. 
 
 For he hears the lambs' innocent call, 
 And he hears the ewes' tender reply; 
 He is watchful while they are in peace, 
 For they know that their shepherd is nigh. 
 
SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 THE ECHOING GREEN. 
 
 The sun does arise 
 
 And make happy the skies ; 
 
 The merry bells ring, 
 
 To welcome the spring; 
 
 The skylark and thrush, 
 
 The birds of the bush, 
 
 Sing louder around 
 
 To the bells' cheerful sound ; 
 
 While our sports shall be seen 
 
 On the echoing green. 
 
 Old John, with white hair, 
 Does laugh away care, 
 Sitting under the oak, 
 Among the old folk. 
 They laugh at our play, 
 And soon they all say, 
 ' Such, such were the joys 
 When we all — girls and boys— 
 In our youth-time were seen 
 On the echoing green.' 
 
 Till the little ones, weary, 
 
 No more can be merry, 
 
 The sun does descend, 
 
 And our sports have an end. 
 
 Round the laps of their mothers 
 
 Many sisters and brothers, 
 
 Like birds in their nest, 
 
 Are ready for rest, 
 
 And sport no more seen 
 
 On the darkening green. 
 
SONGS OF INNOCENCE. 
 
 THE LAMB. 
 
 Little lamb, who made thee ? 
 
 Dost thou know who made thee, 
 Gave thee life, and bade thee feed 
 By the stream and o'er the mead ; 
 Gave thee clothing of delight, 
 Softest clothing, woolly, bright ; 
 Gave thee such a tender voice, 
 Making all the vales rejoice? 
 
 Little lamb, who made thee ? 
 
 Dost thou know who made thee? 
 
 Little lamb, I'll tell thee ; 
 
 Little lamb, I'll tell thee : 
 He is called by thy name, 
 For He calls Himself a Lamb. 
 He is meek, and He is mild, 
 He became a little child. 
 I a child, and thou a lamb, 
 We are called by His name. 
 
 Little lamb, God bless thee ! 
 
 Little lamb, God bless thee 
 
SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 THE LITTLE BLACK BOY. 
 
 My mother bore me in the southern wild, 
 And I am black, but 0 my soul is white. 
 
 White as an angel is the English child, 
 But I am black, as if bereaved of light. 
 
 My mother taught me underneath a tree, 
 And, sitting down before the heat of day, 
 
 She took me on her lap and kissed me, 
 And, pointing to the East, began to say : 
 
 ' Look on the rising sun : there God does live, 
 And gives His light, and gives His heat away, 
 
 And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive 
 Comfort in morning, joy in the noonday. 
 
 ' And we are put on earth a little space, 
 
 That we may learn to bear the beams of love ; 
 
 And these black bodies and this sunburnt face 
 Are but a cloud, and like a shady grove. 
 
 'For when our souls have learn'd the heat to bear, 
 The cloud will vanish, we shall hear His voice, 
 
 Saying, "Come out from the grove, my love and care 
 And round my golden tent like lambs rejoice." ' 
 
 Thus did my mother say, and kissed me, 
 And thus I say to little English boy : 
 
 When I from black, and he from white cloud free, 
 And round the tent of God like lambs we joy ; 
 
 111 shade him from the heat till he can bear 
 To lean in joy upon our Father's knee ; 
 
 And then 111 stand and stroke his silver hair, 
 And be like him, and he will then love me. 
 
SONGS OF INNOCENCE. 
 
 THE BLOSSOM. 
 
 Merry, merry sparrow ! 
 Under leaves so green 
 A happy blossom 
 Sees you, swift as arrow, 
 Seek your cradle narrow, 
 Near my bosom. 
 
 Pretty, pretty robin ! 
 Under leaves so green 
 A happy blossom 
 Hears you sobbing, sobbing, 
 Pretty, pretty robin, 
 Near my bosom. 
 
SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 THE CHIMNEY-SWEEPER 
 
 When my mother died I was very young, 
 And my father sold me while yet my tongue 
 Could scarcely cry, 'Weep! weep! weep! weep!' 
 So your chimneys I sweep, and in soot I sleep. 
 
 There's little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head, 
 That curled like a lamb's back, was shaved ; so I said, 
 ' Hush, Tom ! never mind it, for when your head's bare, 
 You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair.' 
 
 And so he was quiet, and that very night, 
 
 As Tom was a-sleeping, he had such a sight ; 
 
 That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, and Jack, 
 
 Were all of them lock'd up in coffins of black. 
 
 And by came an angel, who had a bright key, 
 And he opened the coffins, and set them all free ; 
 Then down a green plain, leaping, laughing they run, 
 And wash in a river, and shine in the sun. 
 
 Then naked and white, all their bags left behind, 
 They rise upon clouds, and sport in the wind; 
 And the angel told Tom, if he'd be a good boy, 
 He'd have God for his father, and never want joy. 
 
 And so Tom awoke, and we rose in the dark, 
 And got with our bags and our brushes to work ; 
 Though the morning was cold, Tom was happy and warm 
 So, if all do their duty, they need not fear harm. 
 
SONGS OF INNOCENCE. 
 
 33 
 
 THE LITTLE BOY LOST. 
 
 Father, father, where are you going? 
 
 0 do not walk so fast; 
 Speak, father, speak to your little boy, 
 
 Or else I shall be lost. 
 
 The night was dark, no father was there. 
 
 The child was wet with dew ; 
 The mire was deep, and the child did weep, 
 
 And away the vapour flew. 
 
 THE LITTLE BOY FOUND. 
 
 The little boy lost in the lonely fen, 
 
 Led by the wandering light, 
 Began to cry, but God, ever nigh, 
 
 Appeared like his father, in white. 
 
 He kissed the child, and by the hand led, 
 
 And to his mother brought, 
 Who in sorrow pale, through the lonely dale, 
 
 The little boy weeping sought. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 D 
 
SELECTIONS FKOM BLAKE'S WKITINGS. 
 
 LAUGHING SONG. 
 
 When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy, 
 And the dimpling stream runs laughing by ; 
 When the air does laugh with our merry wit, 
 And the green hill laughs with the noise of it ; 
 
 When the meadows laugh with lively green, 
 And the grasshopper laughs in the merry scene ; 
 When Mary, and Susan, and Emily, 
 With their sweet round mouths sing, " Ha, ha, he ! " 
 
 When the painted birds laugh in the shade, 
 Where our table with cherries and nuts is spread : 
 Come live, and be merry, and join with me, 
 To sing the sweet chorus of " Ha, ha, he ! " 
 
SONGS OF INNOCENCE. 
 
 A CRADLE SONG. 
 
 Sweet dreams, form a shade 
 O'er my lovely infant's head ! 
 Sweet dreams of pleasant streams 
 By happy, silent, moony beams ! 
 
 Sweet sleep, with soft down 
 Weave thy brows an infant crown 
 Sweet sleep, angel mild, 
 Hover o'er my happy child ! 
 
 Sweet smiles, in the night 
 Hover over my delight ! 
 Sweet smiles, mother's smile, 
 All the livelong night beguile ! 
 
 Sweet moans, dovelike sighs, 
 Chase not slumber from thine eyes 
 Sweet moan, sweeter smile 
 All the dovelike moans beguile ! 
 
 Sleep, sleep, happy child ! 
 All creation slept and smiled. 
 Sleep, sleep, happy sleep ! 
 While o'er thee doth mother weep. 
 
 Sweet babe, in thy face 
 Holy image I can trace ; 
 Sweet babe, once like thee 
 Thy Maker lay, and wept for me ! 
 
 Wept for me, for thee, for all, 
 When He was an infant small. 
 Thou His image ever see, 
 Heavenly face that smiles on thee ! 
 
 Smiles on thee, on me, on all, 
 Who became an infant small ; 
 Infant smiles like His own smile 
 Heaven and earth to peace beguile. 
 d 2 
 
SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 THE DIVINE IMAGE. 
 
 To mercy, pity, peace, and love, 
 All pray in their distress, 
 
 And to these virtues of delight 
 Eeturn their thankfulness. 
 
 For mercy, pity, peace, and love, 
 
 Is God our Father dear ; 
 And mercy, pity, peace, and love, 
 
 Is man, His child and care. 
 
 For Mercy has a human heart, 
 
 Pity a human face ; 
 And Love, the human form divine ; 
 
 And Peace, the human dress. 
 
 Then every man, of every clime, 
 That prays in his distress, 
 
 Prays to the human form divine: 
 Love, Mercy, Pity, Peace. 
 
 And all must love the human form, 
 In heathen, Turk, or Jew; 
 
 Where mercy, love, and pity dwell, 
 There God is dwelling too. 
 
SONGS OF INNOCENCE. 
 
 37 
 
 HOLY THUESDAY. 
 
 'Twas on a Holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean, 
 Came children walking two and two, in red, and blue, and green : 
 Grey-headed beadles walk'd before, with wands as white as snow, 
 Till into the high dome of Paul's, they like Thames' waters flow. 
 
 0 what a multitude they seem'd, these flowers of London town, 
 Seated in companies they were, with radiance all their own : 
 The hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs, 
 Thousands of little boys and girls raising their innocent hands. 
 
 Now like a mighty wind they raise to heaven the voice of song, 
 
 01 like harmonious thunderings the seats of heaven among : 
 Beneath them sit the aged men, wise guardians of the poor. 
 Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door. 
 
SELECTIONS FEOM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 NIGHT. 
 
 The sun descending in the west, 
 The evening star does shine, 
 The birds are silent in their nest, 
 And I must seek for mine. 
 
 The moon, like a flower 
 
 In heaven's high bower, 
 
 With silent delight, 
 
 Sits and smiles on the night. 
 
 Farewell, green fields and happy grove, 
 Where flocks have ta'en delight; 
 Where lambs have nibbled, silent move 
 The feet of angels bright ; 
 
 Unseen, they pour blessing, 
 
 And joy without ceasing, 
 
 On each bud and blossom, 
 
 And each sleeping bosom. 
 
 They look in every thoughtless nest, 
 Where birds are covered warm; 
 They visit caves of every beast, 
 To keep them all from harm : 
 If they see any weeping 
 That should have been sleeping, 
 They pour sleep on their head, 
 And sit down by their bed. 
 
 When wolves and tigers howl for prey, 
 They pitying stand and weep ; 
 Seeking to drive their thirst away, 
 And keep them from the sheep. 
 
 But if they rush dreadful, 
 
 The angels, most heedful, 
 
 Eeceive each mild spirit, 
 
 New worlds to inherit. 
 
SONGS OF INNOCENCE. 
 
 And there the lion's ruddy eyes 
 Shall flow with tears of gold : 
 And pitying the tender cries, , 
 And walking round the fold : 
 
 Saying: 'Wrath by His meekness, 
 
 And by His health, sickness, 
 
 Are driven away 
 
 From our immortal day. 
 
 ' And now beside thee, bleating lamb, 
 I can lie down and sleep, 
 Or think on Him who bore thy name, 
 Graze after thee, and weep. 
 
 For wash'd in life's river, 
 
 My bright mane for ever 
 
 Shall shine like the gold, 
 
 As I guard o'er the fold.' 
 
SELECTIONS FEOM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 SPKING. 
 
 Sound the flute ! 
 Now 'tis mute ; 
 Birds delight, 
 Day and night, 
 Nightingale 
 In the dale, 
 Lark in sky, — 
 Merrily, 
 
 Merrily, merrily to welcome in the year. 
 
 Little boy, 
 Full of joy; 
 Little girl, 
 Sweet and small ; 
 Cock does crow, 
 So do you ; 
 Merry voice, 
 Infant noise ; 
 Merrily, merrily to welcome in the year. 
 
 Little lamb, 
 Here I am ; 
 Come and lick 
 My white neck ; 
 Let me pull 
 Your soft wool ; 
 Let me kiss 
 Your soft face ; 
 Merrily, merrily we welcome in the year. 
 
SONGS OF INNOCENCE. 
 
 NUKSE'S SONG. 
 
 When the voices of children are heard on the green, 
 
 And laughing is heard on the hill, 
 My heart is at rest within my breast, 
 
 And everything else is still. 
 Then come home, my children, the sun is gone down, 
 
 And the dews of night arise ; 
 Come, come, leave off play, and let us away 
 
 Till the morning appears in the skies. 
 
 No, no, let us play, for it is yet day, 
 
 And we cannot go to sleep ; 
 Besides, in the sky the little birds fly, 
 
 And the hills are all covered with sheep. 
 Well, well, go and play till the light fades away, 
 
 And then go home to bed. 
 The little ones leaped, and shouted, and laugh'd, 
 
 And all the hills echoed. 
 
SELECTIONS FEOM BLAKE'S WKITINGS. 
 
 INFANT JOY. 
 
 ' I have no name ; 
 I am but two days old.' 
 What shall I call thee? 
 ' I happy am, 
 Joy is my name.' 
 Sweet joy befall thee ! 
 
 Pretty joy ! 
 
 Sweet joy, but two days old. 
 Sweet joy I call thee : 
 Thou dost smile. 
 I sing the while, 
 Sweet joy befall thee ! 
 
SONGS OF INNOCENCE. 
 
 A DKEAM. 
 
 Once a dream did weave a shade 
 O'er my angel-guarded bed, 
 That an emmet lost its way 
 Where on grass methought I lay. 
 
 Troubled, 'wilder'd, and forlorn, 
 Dark, benighted, travel-worn, 
 Over many a tangled spray, 
 All heart-broke, I heard her say : 
 
 ' 0, my children ! do they cry, 
 Do they hear their father sigh? 
 Now they look abroad to see, 
 Now return and weep for me.' 
 
 Pitying, I dropp'd a tear : 
 But I saw a glow-worm near, 
 Who replied, 'What wailing wight 
 Calls the watchman of the night? 
 
 ' I am set to light the ground, 
 While the beetle goes his round 
 Follow now the beetle's hum, 
 Little wanderer, hie thee home!' 
 
SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 ON ANOTHER'S SORROW. 
 
 Can I see another's woe, 
 And not be in sorrow too? 
 Can I see another's grief, 
 And not seek for kind relief? 
 
 Can I see a falling tear, 
 And not feel my sorrow's share? 
 Can a father see his child 
 "Weep, nor be with sorrow fill'd? 
 
 Can a mother sit and hear, 
 An infant groan, an infant fear? 
 No, no ! never can it be ! 
 Never, never can it be ! 
 
 And can He, who smiles on all, 
 Hear the wren, with sorrows small, 
 Hear the small bird's grief and care, 
 Hear the woes that infants bear? 
 
 And not sit beside the nest, 
 Pouring Pity in their breast? 
 And not sit the cradle near, 
 Weeping tear on infant's tear? 
 
SONGS OF INNOCENCE. 
 
 And not sit both night and day, 
 Wiping all our tears away? 
 Oh, no ! never can it be ! 
 Never, never can it be! 
 
 He doth give His joy to all : 
 He becomes an infant small, 
 He becomes a man of woe, 
 He doth feel the sorrow too. 
 
 Think not thou canst sigh a sigh, 
 And thy Maker is not by : 
 Think not thou canst weep a tear, 
 And thy Maker is not near. 
 
 Oh ! He gives to us His joy, 
 That our griefs He may destroy : 
 Till our grief is fled and gone 
 He doth sit by us and moan. 
 
SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 THE VOICE OF THE ANCIENT BARD. 
 
 Youth of delight S come hither 
 
 And see the opening morn, 
 
 Image of Truth new-born. 
 
 Doubt is fled, and clouds of reason, 
 
 Dark disputes and artful teazing. 
 
 Folly is an endless maze ; 
 
 Tangled roots perplex her ways ; 
 
 How many have fallen there ! 
 
 They stumble all night over bones of the dead ; 
 
 And feel — they know not what save care ; 
 
 And wish to lead others, when they should be led. 
 
SONGS OF EXPERIENCE. 
 
 SONGS OE EXPERIENCE. 
 
 [engraved 1794.] 
 
 INTKODUCTION. 
 
 Hear the voice of the bard, 
 Who Present, Past, and Future see ; 
 Whose ears have heard 
 The Holy Word 
 
 That walked among the ancient trees, 
 
 Calling the lapsed soul, 
 
 And weeping in the evening dew ; 
 
 That might control 
 
 The starry pole, 
 
 And fallen, fallen light renew ! 
 
 0 Earth, 0 Earth, return! 
 Arise from out the dewy grass ! 
 Night is worn, 
 And the morn 
 
 Eises from the slumberous mass. 
 
 Turn away no more ; 
 
 Why wilt thou turn away? 
 
 The starry floor, 
 
 The watery shore, 
 
 Is given thee till the break of day. 
 
SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 EARTH'S ANSWER. 
 
 Earth raised up her head 
 
 From the darkness dread and drear, 
 
 Her light tied, 
 
 (Stony dread!) 
 
 And her locks covered with grey despair. 
 
 ' Prisoned on watery shore, 
 Starry jealousy does keep my den 
 Cold and hoar; 
 Weeping o'er, 
 
 I hear the father of the ancient men. 
 
 Selfish father of men ! 
 Cruel, jealous, selfish fear ! 
 Can delight, 
 Chain'd in night, 
 
 The virgins of youth and morning bear? 
 
 Does spring hide its joy, 
 When buds and blossoms grow? 
 Does the sower 
 Sow by night? 
 
 Or the ploughman in darkness plough? 
 
 Break this heavy chain, 
 
 That does freeze my bones around ! 
 
 Selfish, vain, 
 
 Eternal bane, 
 
 That free love with bondage bound.' 
 
SONGS OF EXPEEIENCE. 
 
 49 
 
 THE CLOD AND THE PEBBLE. 
 
 Love seeketh not itself to please > 
 Nor for itself hath any care, 
 
 But for another gives its ease, 
 
 And builds a heaven in hell's despair. 
 
 So sang a little clod of clay, 
 Trodden with the cattle's feet ; 
 
 But a pebble of the brook 
 
 Warbled out these metres meet : 
 
 'Love seeketh only Self to please, 
 To bind another to its delight, 
 
 Joys in another's loss of ease, 
 
 And builds a hell in heaven's despite/ 
 
 vol. II. 
 
 E 
 
SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 HOLY THURSDAY. 
 
 Is this a holy thing to see, 
 In a rich and fruitful land, 
 
 Babes reduced to misery, 
 
 Fed with a cold usurious hand? 
 
 Is that trembling cry a song? 
 
 Can it be a song of joy ; 
 And so many children poor? 
 
 It is a land of poverty ! 
 
 And their sun does never shine, 
 And their fields are bleak and bare, 
 
 And their ways are fill'd with thorns : 
 It is eternal winter there. 
 
 For where'er the sun does shine, 
 And where'er the rain does fall, 
 
 Babes should never hunger there, 
 Nor poverty the mind appal. 
 
SONGS OF EXPERIENCE. 
 
 THE LITTLE GIEL LOST. 
 
 In futurity, 
 
 I prophetic see, 
 
 That the earth from sleep 
 
 (Grave the sentence deep) 
 
 Shall arise, and seek 
 For her Maker meek ; 
 And the desert wild 
 Become a garden mild. 
 
 In the southern clime, 
 Where the summer's prime 
 Never fades away, 
 Lovely Lyca lay. 
 
 Seven summers old 
 Lovely Lyca told. 
 She had wandered long, 
 Hearing wild birds' song. 
 
 ' Sweet sleep, come to me 
 Underneath this tree ; 
 Do father, mother weep? 
 Where can Lyca sleep? 
 
 ' Lost in desert wild 
 Is your little child. 
 How can Lyca sleep 
 If her mother weep ? 
 
 If her heart does ache, 
 Then let Lyca wake ; 
 If my mother sleep, 
 Lyca shall not weep, 
 
 E 2 
 
SELECTIONS FEOM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 'Frowning, frowning night, 
 O'er this desert bright 
 Let thy moon arise, 
 While I close my eyes.' 
 
 Sleeping Lyca lay 
 While the beasts of prey, 
 Come from caverns deep, 
 View'd the maid asleep. 
 
 The kingly lion stood 
 And the virgin view'd, 
 Then he gambol'd round 
 O'er the hallow'd ground ; 
 
 Leopards, tigers, play 
 Bound her as she lay, 
 While the lion old 
 Bow'd his mane of gold, 
 
 And her breast did lick, 
 And upon her neck, 
 From his eyes of flame, 
 Euby tears there came ; 
 
 While the lioness 
 Loos'd her slender dress, 
 And naked they conveyed 
 To caves the sleeping maid. 
 
SONGS OF EXPERIENCE. 
 
 THE LITTLE GIRL FOUND. 
 
 All the night in woe 
 Lyca's parents go 
 Over valleys deep, 
 While the desarts weep. 
 
 Tired and woe-begone, 
 Hoarse with making moan, 
 Arm in arm, seven days 
 They tread the desart ways. 
 
 Seven nights they sleep 
 Among shadows deep, 
 And dream they see their child 
 Starved in desart wild. 
 
 Pale thro' pathless ways 
 The fancied image strays 
 Famish'd, weeping, weak, 
 With hollow piteons shriek. 
 
 Rising from unrest, 
 The trembling woman prest 
 With feet of weary woe ; 
 She could no further go. 
 
 In his arms he bore 
 
 Her, arm'd with sorrows sore ; 
 
 Till before their way 
 
 A couching lion lay. 
 
 Turning back was vain, 
 Soon his heavy mane 
 Bore them to the ground ; 
 Then he stalk'd around, 
 
SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 Smelling to his prey, 
 But their fears allay 
 When he licks their hands 
 And silent by them stands. 
 
 They look upon his eyes 
 Filled with deep surprise ; 
 And wondering behold 
 A spirit arm'd in gold. 
 
 On his head a crown, 
 On his shoulders down 
 Flow'd his golden hair. 
 Gone was all their care. 
 
 c Follow me,' he said, 
 ' Weep not for the maid ; 
 * In my palace deep, 
 ' Lyca lies asleep.' 
 
 Then they followed 
 Where the vision led, 
 And saw their sleeping child 
 Among tigers wild. 
 
 To this day they dwell 
 In a lonely dell, 
 Nor fear the wolvish howl 
 Nor the lion's growl. 
 
SONGS OF EXPERIENCE. 
 
 55 
 
 THE CHIMNEY SWEEPER, 
 
 A little black thing among the snow, 
 Crying ■ weep ! weep ! ' in notes of woe f 
 Where are thy father and mother % Say : — 
 " They are both gone up to the church to pray. 
 
 * Because I was happy upon the heath, 
 ' And smil'd among the winter's snow, 
 ' They clothed me in the clothes of death, 
 ' And taught me to sing the notes of woe. 
 
 ' And because I am happy and dance and sing, 
 
 ' They think they have done me no injury, 
 
 ' And are gone to praise God and His Priest and King, 
 
 ' Who make up a heaven of our misery.' 
 
SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 NUESE'S SONG. 
 
 When the voices of children are heard on the green, 
 
 And whisperings are in the dale, 
 The days of my youth rise fresh in my mind, 
 
 My face turns green and pale. 
 
 Then come home, my children, the sun is gone down, 
 
 And the dews of night arise ; 
 Your spring and your day are wasted in play, 
 
 And your winter and night in disguise. 
 
 THE SICK EOSE. 
 
 0 Eose, thou art sick ! 
 
 The invisible worm 
 That flies in the night, 
 
 In the howling storm, 
 
 Has found out thy bed 
 
 Of crimson joy, 
 And his dark secret love 
 
 Does thy life destroy. 
 
SONGS OF EXPERIENCE. 
 
 THE FLY. 
 
 Little Fly, 
 Thy summer's play 
 My thoughtless hand 
 Has brushed away. 
 
 Am not I 
 A fly like thee? 
 Or art not thou 
 A man like me ? 
 
 For I dance, 
 And drink, and sing, 
 Till some blind hand 
 Shall brush my wing. 
 
 If thought is life, 
 
 And strength, and breath ; 
 
 And the want 
 
 Of thought is death ; 
 
 Then am I 
 A happy fly, 
 If I live, 
 Or if I die. 
 
SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 THE ANGEL. 
 
 I dreamt a dream ! What can it mean 
 And that I was a maiden Queen 
 Guarded by an Angel mild : 
 Witless woe was ne'er "beguil'd ! 
 
 And I wept both night and day, 
 And he wip'd my tears away ; 
 And I wept both day and night, 
 And hid from him my heart's delight. 
 
 So he took his wings, and fled ; 
 Then the morn blush'd rosy red. 
 I dried my tears, and arm'd my fears 
 With ten thousand shields and spears. 
 
 Soon my Angel came again, 
 I was arm'd, he came in vain ; 
 For the time of youth was fled, 
 And grey hairs were on my head. 
 
SONGS OF EXPERIENCE. 
 
 THE TIGER. 
 
 Tiger, Tiger, burning bright 
 In the forests of the night, 
 What immortal hand or eye 
 Framed thy fearful symmetry? 
 
 In what distant deeps or skies 
 Burned that fire within thine eyes? 
 On what wings dared he aspire? 
 What the hand dared seize the fire ? 
 
 And what shoulder, and what art, 
 Could twist the sinews of thy heart? 
 When thy heart began to beat, 
 What dread hand formed thy dread feet ? 
 
 What the hammer, what the chain, 
 Knit thy strength and forged thy brain ? 
 What the anvil? What dread grasp 
 Dared thy deadly terrors clasp? 
 
 When the stars threw down their spears, 
 And water'd heaven with their tears, 
 Did he smile his work to see? 
 Did He who made the Iamb make thee ? 
 
SELECTIONS FEOM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 MY PEETTY EOSE TEEE. 
 
 A flower was offer' d to me, 
 
 Such a flower as May never bore, 
 
 But I said, I've a pretty rose tree, 
 And I passed the sweet flower o'er. 
 
 Then I went to my pretty rose tree, 
 To tend her by day and by night, 
 
 But my Eose turned away with jealousy 
 And her thorns were my only delight. 
 
 AH! SUNFLOWER 
 
 Ah ! Sunflower ! weary of time, 
 
 Who countest the steps of the sun ; 
 
 Seeking after that sweet golden prime 
 Where the traveller's journey is done ; 
 
 Where the Youth pined away with desire, 
 And the pale virgin shrouded in snow, 
 
 Arise from their graves and aspire 
 Where my sunflower wishes to go. 
 
SONGS OF EXPERIENCE. 
 
 THE LILY. 
 
 The modest Eose puts forth a thorn, 
 
 The humble sheep a threatening horn : 
 
 "While the Lily white shall in Love delight, 
 
 Nor a thorn, nor a threat, stain her beauty bright. 
 
 THE GAEDEN OF LOYE. 
 
 I laid me down upon a bank, 
 
 Where Love lay sleeping ; 
 I heard among the rushes dank 
 
 Weeping, weeping. 
 
 Then I went to the heath and the wild, 
 To the thistles and thorns of the waste ; 
 
 And they told me how they were beguil'd 
 Driven out, and compelled to be chaste. 
 
 I went to the Garden of Love, 
 
 And saw what I never had seen ; 
 A Chapel was built in the midst, 
 
 Where I used to play on the green. 
 
 And the gates of this Chapel were shut, 
 And ' thou shalt not/ writ over the door ; 
 
 So I turned to the Garden of Love 
 That so many sweet flowers bore. 
 
 And I saw it was filled with graves, 
 
 And tombstones where flowers should be, 
 
 And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds, 
 And binding with briars my joys and desires. 
 
SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 THE LITTLE VAGABOND. 
 
 Dear mother, dear mother, the Church is cold, 
 
 But the Alehouse is healthy, and pleasant, and warm, 
 
 Besides, I can tell where I am used well ; 
 
 The poor parsons with wind like a blown bladder swell. 
 
 But if at the Church they would give us some Ale, 
 And a pleasant fire our souls to regale, 
 We'd sing and we'd pray all the livelong day, 
 Nor ever once wish from the Church to stray. 
 
 Then the Parson might preach, and drink, and sing, 
 And we'd be as happy as birds in the spring, 
 And modest Dame Lurch, who is always at Church, 
 Would not have bandy children, nor fasting, nor birch. 
 
 And God, like a father, rejoicing to see 
 
 His children as pleasant and happy as He, 
 
 Would have no more quarrel with the Devil or the Barrel, 
 
 But kiss him, and give him both drink and apparel. 
 
SONGS OF EXPERIENCE. 
 
 LONDON. 
 
 I wander through each charter'd street, 
 
 Near where the charter'd Thames does flow, 
 
 And mark in every face I meet 
 Marks of weakness, marks of woe. 
 
 In every cry of every man, 
 
 In every infant's cry of fear, 
 In every voice, in every ban, 
 
 The mind-forg'd manacles I hear. 
 
 How the chimney-sweeper's cry 
 
 Every blackening church appals, 
 And the hapless soldier's sigh 
 
 Runs in blood down palace walls. 
 
 But most, through midnight streets I hear 
 
 How the youthful harlot's curse 
 Blasts the new-born infant's tear, 
 
 And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse. 
 
SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 THE HUMAN ABSTEACT. 
 
 Pity would be no more 
 
 If we did not make somebody poor, 
 
 And Mercy no more could be 
 
 If all were as happy as we. 
 
 And mutual fear brings Peace, 
 Till the selfish loves increase ; 
 Then Cruelty knits a snare, 
 And spreads his baits with care. 
 
 He sits down with holy fears, 
 And waters the ground with tears ; 
 Then Humility takes its root 
 Underneath his foot. 
 
 Soon spreads the dismal shade 
 Of Mystery over his head, 
 And the caterpillar and fly 
 Feed on the Mystery. 
 
 And it bears the fruit of Deceit, 
 Euddy and sweet to eat, 
 And the raven his nest has made 
 In its thickest shade. 
 
 The gods of the earth and sea 
 Sought through nature to find this tree, 
 But their search was all in vain: 
 There grows one in the human Brain. 
 
SONGS OF EXPEEIENCE. 
 
 65 
 
 INFANT SORROW. 
 
 My mother groaned, my father wept, 
 Into the dangerous world I leapt, 
 Helpless, naked, piping loud, 
 Like a fiend hid in a cloud. 
 
 Struggling in my father's hands, 
 Striving against my swaddling bands, 
 Bound, and weary, I thought best 
 To sulk upon my mother's breast. 
 
 CHRISTIAN FORBEARANCE. 
 
 I WAS angry with my friend : 
 
 I told my wrath, my wrath did end. 
 
 I was angry with my foe : 
 
 I told it not, my wrath did grow. 
 
 And I watered it in fears 
 Night and morning with my tears, 
 And I sunned it with smiles 
 And with soft deceitful wiles. 
 
 And it grew both day and night 
 Till it bore an apple bright, 
 And my foe beheld it shine, 
 And he knew that it was mine, 
 
 And into my garden stole 
 
 When the night had veil'd the pole ; 
 
 In the morning, glad, I see 
 
 My foe outstretch'd beneath the tree. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 F 
 
SELECTIONS FKOM BLAKE'S WKITINGS. 
 
 A LITTLE BOY LOST. 
 
 ' Nought loves another as itself, 
 
 ' Nor venerates another so, 
 ' Nor is it possible to thought 
 
 ' A greater than itself to know. 
 
 ' And, Father, how can I love you 
 ' Or any of my brothers more? 
 
 ( I love you like the little bird 
 
 1 That picks up crumbs around the door.' 
 
 The Priest sat by and heard the child ; 
 
 In trembling zeal he seiz'd his hair, 
 He led him by his little coat, 
 
 And all admired the priestly care. 
 
 And standing on the altar high, 
 
 ' Lo ! what a fiend is here/ said he, 
 
 ' One who sets reason up for judge 
 ' Of our most holy Mystery.' 
 
 The weeping child could not be heard, 
 The weeping parents wept in vain, 
 
 They stripp'd him to his little shirt, 
 And bound him in an iron chain, 
 
 And burned him in a holy place 
 
 Where many had been burned before ; 
 
 The weeping parents wept in vain. 
 
 Are such things done on Albion's shore? 
 
SONGS OF EXPEDIENCE. 
 
 A LITTLE GIEL LOST. 
 
 Childeen of the future Age, 
 
 Eeading this indignant page, 
 
 Know that, in a former time, 
 
 Love, sweet love, was thought a crime. 
 
 In the age of gold, 
 
 Free from winter's cold, 
 
 Youth and maiden bright, 
 
 To the holy light, 
 
 Naked in the sunny beams delight. 
 
 Once a youthful pair, 
 Fill'd with softest care, 
 Met in garden bright, 
 Where the holy light 
 
 Had just removed the curtains of the night. 
 
 Then, in rising day, 
 
 On the grass they play ; 
 
 Parents were afar, 
 
 Strangers came not near, 
 
 And the maiden soon forgot her fear. 
 
 Tired with kisses sweet, 
 
 They agree to meet 
 
 When the silent sleep, 
 
 Waves o'er heaven's deep 
 
 And the weary tired wanderers weep. 
 
 To her father white 
 Came the maiden bright, 
 But his loving look, 
 Like the holy book, 
 
 All her tender limbs with terror shook. 
 
 Ona ! pale and weak, 
 To thy father speak; 
 Oh ! the trembling fear, 
 Oh ! the dismal care 
 
 That shakes the blossoms of my hoary hair 
 f 2 
 
SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 A CKADLE SONG. 
 
 Sleep, sleep, beauty bright, 
 Dreaming in the joys of night ; 
 Sleep, sleep ; in thy sleep 
 Little sorrows sit and weep. 
 
 Sweet babe, in thy face 
 Soft desires I can trace, 
 Secret joys and secret smiles, 
 Little pretty infant wiles. 
 
 As thy softest limbs I feel, 
 Smiles as of the morning steal 
 O'er thy cheek, and o'er thy breast 
 Where thy little heart doth rest. 
 
 Oh the cnnning wiles that creep 
 In thy little heart asleep ! 
 When thy little heart doth wake, 
 Then the dreadful light shall break. 
 
SONGS OF EXPERIENCE. 
 
 THE SCHOOLBOY. 
 
 I love to rise on a summer morn, 
 
 When birds are singing on every tree; 
 
 The distant huntsman winds his horn, 
 And the skylark sings with me : 
 O what sweet company ! 
 
 But to go to school in a summer morn, — 
 
 Oh ! it drives all joy away ; 
 Under a cruel eye outworn, 
 
 The little ones spend the day 
 
 In sighing and dismay. 
 
 Ah ! then at times I drooping sit 
 And spend many an anxious hour ; 
 
 Nor in my book can I take delight, 
 Kor sit in learning's bower, 
 Worn through with the dreary shower. 
 
 How can the bird that is born for joy 
 Sit in a cage and sing ? 
 
 How can a child, when fears annoy, 
 But droop his tender wing, 
 And forget his youthful spring ? 
 
 O father and mother, if buds are nipp'd, 
 And blossoms blown away; 
 
 And if the tender plants are stripp'd 
 Of their joy in the springing day, 
 By sorrow and care's dismay,- - 
 
 How shall the summer arise in joy, 
 Or the summer fruits appear? 
 
 Or how shall we gather what griefs destroy, 
 Or bless the mellowing year, 
 When the blasts of winter appear ? 
 
SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 TO TIEZAH. 
 
 Whate'er is born of Mortal Birth 
 Must be consumed with the earth, 
 To rise from generation free : 
 Then what have I to do with thee ? 
 
 The sexes sprang from shame and pride, 
 Blown in the morn, in evening died ; 
 But mercy changed death into sleep ; 
 The sexes rose to work and weep. 
 
 Thou, mother of my mortal part, 
 With cruelty didst mould my heart, 
 And with false self-deceiving tears 
 Didst bind my nostrils, eyes, and ears, 
 
 Didst close my tongue in senseless clay, 
 And me to mortal life betray. 
 The death of J esus set me free : 
 Then what have I to do with thee? 
 
THE BOOK OP THEL. 
 
 [Engeaved 1789.] 
 
 [The Thel has been spoken of in the Life (Chapter X. page 76). It is equal in 
 delightfulness to Blake's lyrical poetry ; and being the most tender and simple of the 
 class of his works to which it belongs, may prove the most generally acceptable as 
 a specimen of these.] 
 
 Does the Eagle know what is in the pit f 
 
 Or wilt thou go ash the mole? 
 Can Wisdom he put in a silver rod? 
 
 Or Love in a golden howl? 
 
 The daughters of the Seraphim led round their sunny flocks, 
 All but the youngest : she in paleness sought the secret air 
 To fade away like morning beauty from her mortal day. 
 Down by the river of Adona her soft voice is heard, 
 And thus her gentle lamentation falls like morning dew. 
 
72 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 " 0 life of this our Spring ! why fades the lotus of the water 1 
 Why fade these children of the Spring, born but to smile 
 and fall ? 
 
 Ah ! Thel is like a watery bow, and like a parting cloud, 
 Like a reflection in a glass, like shadows in the water, 
 Like dreams of infants, like a smile upon an infant's face, 
 Like the dove's voice, like transient day, like music in the air. 
 Ah ! gentle may I lay me down, and gentle rest my head, 
 And gentle sleep the sleep of death, and gentle hear the voice 
 Of him that walketh in the garden in the evening time." 
 
 The Lily of the valley breathing in the humble grass 
 Answer' d the lovely maid and said : " I am a watery weed, 
 And I am very small, and love to dwell in lowly vales ; 
 So weak, the gilded butterfly scarce perches on my head. 
 Yet I am visited from heaven; and He that smiles on all 
 Walks in the valley, and each morn over me spreads His hand, 
 Saying, ' Eejoice, thou humble grass, thou new-born lily-flower, 
 Thou gentle maid of silent valleys and of modest brooks ; 
 For thou shalt be clothed in light and fed with morning manna, 
 Till summer's heat melts thee beside the fountains and the springs 
 To flourish in eternal vales.' Then why should Thel complain? 
 Why should the mistress of the vales of Har utter a sigh?" 
 
 She ceased and smiled in tears, then sat down in her silver shrine. 
 
 Thel answer'd : " 0 thou little virgin of the peaceful valley, 
 Giving to those that cannot crave, the voiceless, the o'ertired ; 
 Thy breath doth nourish the innocent lamb, he smells thy milky 
 garments, 
 
 He crops thy flowers, while thou sittest smiling in his face, 
 
 Wiping his mild and meekin mouth from all contagious taints. 
 
 Thy wine doth purify the golden honey, thy perfume, 
 
 Which thou dost scatter on every little blade of grass that springs, 
 
 Eevives the milked cow, and tames the fire-breathing steed. 
 
 But Thel is like a faint cloud kindled at the rising sun: 
 
 I vanish from my pearly throne, and who shall find my place? " 
 
 " Queen of the vales," the Lily answered, " ask the tender cloud, 
 
THE BOOK OF THEL. 
 
 73 
 
 And it shall tell thee why it glitters in the morning sky, 
 And why it scatters its bright beauty through the humid air. 
 Descend, 0 little cloud, and hover before the eyes of Thel." 
 
 The cloud descended, and the Lily bowed her modest head 
 
 And went to mind her numerous charge among the verdant grass. 
 
 II. 
 
 " 0 little cloud," the virgin said, " I charge thee tell to me 
 Why thou complainest not, when in one hour thou fad'st away : 
 Then we shall seek thee, but not find. Ah ! Thel is like to thee ; 
 I pass away, yet I complain and no one hears my voice." 
 
 The cloud then showed his golden head, and his bright form 
 emerged 
 
 Hovering and glittering on the air before the face of Thel. 
 
 " O virgin, know'st thou not our steeds drink of the golden springs 
 Where Luvah doth renew his horses? Look'st thou on my youth, 
 And fearest thou because I vanish and am seen no more ? 
 Nothing remains. 0 maid, I tell thee, when I pass away 
 It is to tenfold life, to love, to peace, and raptures holy. 
 Unseen descending weigh my light wings upon balmy flowers, 
 And court the fair-eyed dew to take me to her shining tent : 
 The weeping virgin trembling kneels before the risen sun, 
 Till we arise, link'd in a golden band, and never part, 
 But walk united, bearing food to all our tender flowers." 
 
 " Dost thou, 0 little cloud ? I fear that I am not like thee ; 
 Eor I walk through the vales of Har, and smell the sweetest 
 flowers ; 
 
 But I feed not the little flowers : I hear the warbling birds, 
 But I feed not the warbling birds, they fly and seek their food : 
 But Thel delights in these no more because I fade away, 
 And all shall say, without a use this shining woman liv'd, 
 Or did she only live to be at death the food of worms ? " 
 
 The Cloud reclin'd upon his airy throne and answer'd thus : 
 
 "Then if thou art the food of worms, 0 virgin of the skies, 
 
74 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 How great thy use, how great thy blessing. Every thing that lives, 
 Lives not alone nor for itself. Fear not, and I will call 
 The weak worm from its lowly bed, and thou shalt hear its voice. 
 Come forth, worm of the silent valley, to thy pensive queen." 
 
 The helpless worm arose, and sat upon the Lily's leaf, 
 
 And the bright cloud sailed on to find his partner in the vale. 
 
 III. 
 
 Then Thel, astonished, viewed the worm upon its dewy bed. 
 
 " Art thou a worm 1 image of weakness, art thou but a worm ? 
 I see thee, like an infant, wrapped in the Lily's leaf: 
 Ah ! weep not, little voice, thou canst not speak, but thou canst 
 weep. 
 
 Is this a worm? I see thee lie helpless and naked, weeping, 
 And none to answer, none to cherish thee with mother's smiles." 
 
 The clod of clay heard the worm's voice, and rais'd her pitying 
 head : 
 
 She bow'd over the weeping infant, and her life exhal'd 
 
 In milky fondness : then on Thel she fix'd her humble eyes. 
 
 " 0 beauty of the vales of Har ! we live not for ourselves. 
 Thou seest me, the meanest thing, and so I am indeed ; 
 My bosom of itself is cold and of itself is dark, 
 But He that loves the lowly pours His oil upon my head, 
 And kisses me, and binds His nuptial bands around my breast, 
 And says : — ' Thou mother of my children, I have loved thee, 
 And I have given thee a crown that none can take away.' 
 But how this is, sweet maid, I know not, and I cannot know ; 
 I ponder, and I cannot ponder : yet I live and love ! " 
 
 The daughter of beauty wip'd her pitying tears with her white veil, 
 And said : — " Alas ! I knew not this, and therefore did I weep. 
 That God would love a worm, I knew, and punish the evil foot 
 That wilful bruised its helpless form ; but that He cherish'd it 
 With milk and oil, I never knew, and therefore did I weep. 
 And I complained in the mild air, because I fade away, 
 And lay me down in thy cold bed, and leave my shining lot." 
 
THE BOOK OF THEL. 
 
 75 
 
 " Queen of the vales/' the matron clay answered ; " I heard thy 
 sighs, 
 
 And all thy moans flew o'er my roof, but I have call'd them 
 down. 
 
 Wilt thou, 0 queen, enter my house? 'tis given thee to enter, 
 And to return : fear nothing, enter with thy virgin feet." 
 
 IV. 
 
 The eternal gates' terrrific porter lifted the northern bar; 
 Thel enter'd in and saw the secrets of the land unknown. 
 She saw the couches of the dead, and where the fibrous root 
 Of every heart on earth infixes deep its restless twists : 
 A land of sorrows and of tears, where never smile was seen. 
 
 She wander'd in the land of clouds, through valleys dark, listening 
 Dolours and lamentations ; wailing oft beside a dewy grave 
 She stood in silence, listening to the voices of the ground, 
 Till to her own grave-plot she came, and there she sat down, 
 And heard this voice of sorrow breathed from the hollow pit. 
 
 "Why cannot the ear be closed to its own destruction? 
 
 Or the glistening eye to the poison of a smile? 
 
 Why are eyelids stor'd with arrows ready drawn, 
 
 Where a thousand fighting-men in ambush lie, 
 
 Or an eye of gifts and graces showering fruits and coined gold? 
 
 "Why a tongue impress'd with honey from every wind? 
 Why an ear, a whirlpool fierce to draw creations in? 
 Why a nostril wide inhaling terror, trembling and affright? 
 Why a tender curb upon the youthful burning boy? 
 Why a little curtain of flesh on the bed of our desire ? " 
 
 The virgin started from her seat, and with a shriek 
 Fled back unhinder'd till she came into the vales of Har. 
 
POEMS HITHERTO UNPUBLISHED. 
 
 [The contents of the precious section which now follows have been derived partly 
 from the MS. Note-book to which frequent reference has been made in the Life, 
 and partly from another small autograph collection of different matter, somewhat 
 more fairly copied. The poems have been reclaimed, as regards the first-mentioned 
 source, from as chaotic a mass as could well be imagined ; amid which it has sometimes 
 been necessary either to omit, transpose, or combine, so as to render available what was 
 very seldom found in a final state. And even in the pieces drawn from the second 
 source specified above, means of the same kind have occasionally been resorted to, where 
 they seemed to lessen obscurity or avoid redundance. But with all this, there is nothing 
 throughout that is not faithfully Blake's own. 
 
 One piece in this series (The Two Songs) may be regarded as a different version of 
 The Human Abstract, occurring in the Songs of Experience. This new form is certainly 
 the finer one, I think, by reason of its personified character, which adds greatly to the 
 force of the impression produced. It is, indeed, one of the finest things Blake ever did, 
 really belonging, by it3 vivid completeness, to the order of perfect short poems, — never a 
 very large band, even when the best poets are ransacked to recruit it. Others among 
 the longer poems of this section, which are, each in its own way, truly admirable, are 
 Broken Love, Mary, and Auguries of Innocence. 
 
 Never perhaps have the agony and perversity of sundered affection been more power- 
 fully (however singularly) expressed than in the piece called Broken Love. The speaker 
 is one whose soul has been intensified by pain to be his only world, among the scenes, 
 figures, and events of which he moves as in a new state of being. The emotions have been 
 quickened and isolated by conflicting torment, till each is a separate companion. There 
 is his 'spectre,' the jealous pride which scents in the snow the footsteps of the beloved 
 rejected woman, but is a wild beast to guard his way from reaching her; his ' emanation ' 
 which silently weeps within him, for has not he also sinned ? So they wander together 
 in 'a fathomless and boundless deep,' the morn full of tempests and the night of tears. 
 Let her weep, he says, not for his sins only, but for her own ; nay, he will cast his sins 
 upon her shoulders too ; they shall be more and more till she come to him again. Also 
 this woe of his can array itself in stately imagery. He can count separately how many 
 of his soul's affections the knife she stabbed it with has slain, how many yet mourn 
 over the tombs which he has built for these : he can tell, too, of some that still watch 
 around his bed, bright sometimes with ecstatic passion of melancholy, and crowning his 
 mournful head with vine. All these living forgive her transgressions : when will she 
 look upon them, that the dead may live again ? Has she not pity to give for pardon ? 
 nay, does he not need her pardon too ? He cannot seek her, but oh ! if she would 
 return ! Surely her place is ready for her, and bread and wine of forgiveness of sins. 
 
 I have dwelt on the meaning of this poem, because it is one which, from the figurative 
 form given to it, might be accounted specially obscure. But in reality, it is perhaps the 
 only instance in which Blake has dealt with any of the deeper phases of human passion ; 
 and though the way of dealing with it is all his own, the result is as startlingly true as 
 
POEMS HITHEETO UNPUBLISHED. 
 
 77 
 
 it is grand and impressive, and gives rise to regret that this poet did not oftener elect to 
 walk in the ways, not of spirits or children, but of living men. 
 
 The^Crystal Cabinet and the Mental Traveller belong to a more truly mystical order 
 of poetry. The former is a lovely piece of lyrical writing, but certainly has not the 
 clearness of crystal. Yet the meaning of such among Blake's compositions as this is, 
 may sometimes be missed chiefly through seeking for a sense more recondite than was 
 really meant. This enigmatic-looking poem probably does no more than symbolize in a 
 new way the world-old phenomena of a lover's transfiguration of his mistress and of all 
 things through her, and the reaction when the dream is broken by a too ardent effort to 
 embody it. The most absolutely puzzling stanza is the last, where the disenchanted 
 couple become a weeping woman and babe ; perhaps meant to express the greater natural 
 maturity of the love-element in women. 
 
 The Mental Traveller seemed at first a hopeless riddle ; and the editor of these selec- 
 tions must confess to having been on the point of omitting it, in spite of its high poetic 
 beauty, as incomprehensible. He is indebted to his brother for the clear-sighted, and no 
 doubt correct, exposition which is now printed with it, and brings its full value to light. 
 
 The poem of Mary appears to be, on one side, an allegory of the poetic or spiritual 
 mind moving unrecognised and reviled among its fellows ; and this view of it is corro- 
 borated when we find Blake applying to himself two lines almost identically taken from 
 it, in the last of the Letters printed towards the close of this volume. But the literal 
 meaning may be accepted, too, as a hardly extreme expression of the rancour and envy 
 so constantly attending pre-eminent beauty in women. 
 
 A most noble, though surpassingly quaint example of Blake's loving sympathy with 
 all forms of created life, as well as of the kind of oracular power which he possessed of 
 giving vigorous expression to abstract or social truths, will be found in the Auguries of 
 Innocence. It is a somewhat tangled skein of thought, but stored throughout with the 
 riches of simple wisdom. 
 
 Quaintness reaches its climax in William Bond, which may be regarded as a kind 
 of glorified street-ballad. One point that requires to be noted, if the reader would 
 arrive at such moderate comprehension as seems possible here, is that the term ' fairies ' 
 is evidently used to indicate passionate emotions, while ' angels ' are spirits of coldness 
 and repulsion. The close of the ballad is very beautiful in its two last stanzas, but the 
 upshot of the story is wonderfully hazy. It would appear most probably to imply a 
 reconciliation, resulting from the hero's pity for the heroine, whom he has been trying to 
 get rid of. If so, it must be admitted that Mr. Bond is no great prize, nor Miss Green 
 a very enviable dramatic personage. I have inserted this ballad because it certainly has 
 beauties as well as peculiarities, and also because it is one of only two such examples 
 among Blake's poetry. The other is called Long John Brown and Little Mary Bell, and 
 perhaps the reader may be sufficiently surprised without it. 
 
 The shorter poems, and even the fragments, afford many instances of that exquisite 
 metrical gift and Tightness in point of form which constitute Blake's special glory among 
 his contemporaries, even more eminently perhaps than the grander command of mental 
 resources which is also his. Such qualities of pure perfection in writing verse, as he 
 perpetually without effort displayed, are to be met with among those elder poets whom 
 he loved, and such again are now looked upon as the peculiar trophies of a school 
 which has arisen since his time; but he alone (let it be repeated and remembered) 
 possessed them then, and possessed them in clear completeness. Colour and metre, 
 these are the true patents of nobility in painting and poetry, taking precedence of all 
 intellectual claims ; and it is by virtue of these, first of all, that Blake holds in both 
 arts a rank which cannot be taken from him. 
 
 Of the Epigrams on Art, which conclude this section, a few are really pointed, others 
 
78 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 amusingly irascible, — all more or less a sort of nonsense verses, and not even pretending 
 to be much else. To enter into their reckless spirit of doggrel, it is almost necessary 
 to see the original note-book in which they occur, which continually testifies, by sudden 
 exclamatory entries, to the curious degree of boyish impulse which was one of Blake's 
 characteristics. It is not improbable that such names as Rembrandt, Rubens, Correggio, 
 Reynolds, may have met the reader's eye before in a very different sort of context 
 from that which surrounds them in the surprising poetry of this their brother artist ; 
 and certainly they are made to do service here as scarecrows to the crops of a 
 rather jealous husbandman. And for all that, I have my strong suspicions that the 
 same amount of disparagement of them uttered to instead of by our good Blake, would 
 have elicited on his side a somewhat different estimate. These phials of his wrath, 
 however, have no poison but merely some laughing gas in them ; so now that we are 
 setting the laboratory a little in order, let these too come down from their dusty 
 upper shelf.] 
 
 THE BIRDS. 
 
 He. Where thou dwellest, in what grove, 
 Tell me, fair one, tell me, love, 
 Where thou thy charming nest dost build, 
 
 0 thou pride of every field ! 
 
 She. Yonder stands a lonely tree, 
 
 There I live and mourn for thee ; 
 Morning drinks my silent tear, 
 And evening winds my sorrow bear. 
 
 He. 0 thou summer's harmony, 
 
 1 have lived and mourned for thee ; 
 Each day I mourn along the wood, 
 And night hath heard my sorrows loud. 
 
 She. Dost thou truly long for me? 
 And am I thus sweet to thee? 
 Sorrow now is at an end, 
 0 my lover and my friend ! 
 
 He. Come ! on wings of joy we'll fly 
 
 To where my bower is hung on high; 
 Come, and make thy calm retreat 
 Among green leaves and blossoms sweet. 
 
POEMS HITHEETO UNPUBLISHED. 
 
 BEOKEN LOVE. 
 
 My Spectre around me night and day 
 Like a wild beast guards my way; 
 My Emanation far within 
 Weeps incessantly for my sin. 
 
 A fathomless and boundless deep, 
 There we wander, there we weep ; 
 On the hungry craving wind 
 My Spectre follows thee behind. 
 
 He scents thy footsteps in the snow, 
 Wheresoever thou dost go ; 
 Through the wintry hail and rain 
 When wilt thou return again? 
 
 Poor pale pitiable form 
 That I follow in a storm, 
 From sin I never shall be free 
 Till thou forgive and come to me. 
 
 A deep winter dark and cold 
 Within my heart thou dost unfold ; 
 Iron tears and groans of lead 
 Thou bind'st around my aching head. 
 
 Dost thou not in pride and scorn 
 Fill with tempests all my morn, 
 And with jealousies and fears? — 
 And fill my pleasant nights with tears ? 
 
 O'er my sins thou dost sit and moan : 
 Hast thou no sins of thine own? 
 O'er my sins thou dost sit and weep 
 And lull thine own sins fast asleep. 
 
SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 Thy weeping thou shalt ne'er give o'er 
 I sin against thee more and more, 
 And never will from sin be free 
 Till thou forgive and come to me, 
 
 "What transgressions I commit 
 Are for thy transgressions fit, — ■ 
 They thy harlots, thou their slave ; 
 And my bed becomes their grave. 
 
 Seven of my sweet loves thy knife 
 Hath bereaved of their life : 
 Their marble tombs I built, with tears 
 And with cold and shadowy fears. 
 
 Seven more loves weep night and day 
 Bound the tombs where my loves lay, 
 And seven more loves attend at night 
 Around my couch with torches bright. 
 
 And seven more loves in my bed 
 Crown with vine my mournful bead ; 
 Pitying and forgiving all 
 Thy transgressions, great and small. 
 
 When wilt thou return, and view 
 My loves, and them in life renew? 
 When wilt thou return and live? 
 When wilt thou pity as I forgive ? 
 
 Throughout all Eternity 
 
 I forgive you, you forgive me. 
 
 As our dear Eedeemer said : 
 
 'This the wine, and this the bread/ 
 
POEMS HITHEETO UNPUBLISHED, 
 
 THE TWO SONGS. 
 
 I heard an Angel singing 
 When the day was springing : 
 'Mercy, Pity, and Peace 
 Are the world's release.' 
 
 So he sang all day 
 Over the new-mown hay, 
 Till the snn went down, 
 And haycocks looked brown. 
 
 I heard a Devil curse 
 Over the heath and the furze : 
 'Mercy could be no more 
 If there were nobody poor, 
 And Pity no more could be 
 If all were happy as ye : 
 And mutual fear brings Peace. 
 Misery's increase 
 Are Mercy, Pity, Peace.' 
 
 At his curse the sun went down, 
 And the heavens gave a frown. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 G 
 
SELECTIONS FEOM BLAKE'S WETTINGS, 
 
 THE DEFILED SANCTTJAKY. 
 
 I saw a chapel all of gold 
 
 That none did dare to enter in, 
 
 And many weeping stood without, 
 Weeping, mourning, worshipping. 
 
 I saw a serpent rise between 
 The white pillars of the door, 
 
 And he forced and forced and forced 
 Till he the golden hinges tore : 
 
 And along the pavement sweet, 
 Set with pearls and rubies bright, 
 
 All his shining length he drew, 
 Till upon the altar white 
 
 He vomited his poison out 
 
 On the bread and on the wine. 
 
 So I turned into a sty, 
 
 And laid me down among the swine. 
 
POEMS HITHERTO UNPUBLISHED. 
 
 CUPID. 
 
 Why was Cupid a boy, 
 
 And why a boy was he? 
 He should have been a girl, 
 
 For aught that I can see. 
 
 For he shoots with his bow, 
 
 And the girl shoots with her eye, 
 
 And they both are merry and glad 
 And laugh when we do cry. 
 
 Then to make Cupid a boy 
 Was surely a woman's plan, 
 
 For a boy never learns so much 
 Till he has become a man : 
 
 And then he's so pierced with cares 
 And wounded with arrowy smarts, 
 
 That the whole business of his life 
 Is to pick out the heads of the darts. 
 
 G 2 
 
84 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WEITINGS. 
 
 THE WOMAN TAKEN IN ADULTEEY. 
 
 (Extracted from a Fragmentary Poem, entitled, 1 The Everlasting 
 
 GospeV) 
 
 The vision of Christ that thou dost see 
 
 Is my vision's greatest enemy. 
 
 Thine is the fare of all mankind, — 
 
 Mine speaks in parables to the blind ; 
 
 Thine loves the same world that mine hates ; 
 
 Thy Heaven-doors are my Hell-gates. 
 
 Socrates taught what Meletus 
 
 Loathed as a nation's bitterest curse, 
 
 And Caiaphas was in his own mind 
 
 A benefactor to mankind. 
 
 Both read the Bible day and night ; 
 
 But thou read'st black where I read white. 
 
 Jesus sat in Moses' chair ; 
 
 They brought the trembling woman there ; 
 
 Moses commands she be stoned to death ; 
 
 What was the sound of Jesus' breath ? 
 
 He laid his hand on Moses' law : 
 
 The ancient heavens in silent awe, 
 
 Writ with curses from pole to pole, 
 
 All away began to roll. 
 
 The earth trembling and naked lay, 
 
 In secret bed of mortal clay, 
 
 And she heard the breath of God 
 
 As she heard it by Eden's flood : — 
 
 ' To be good only, is to be 
 
 ' A God, or else a Pharisee. 
 
 ' Thou Angel of the Presence Divine, 
 
 ' That didst create this body of mine, 
 
POEMS HITHERTO UNPUBLISHED. 
 
 Wherefore hast thou writ these laws 
 And created Hell's dark jaws ? 
 Though thou didst all to chaos roll 
 With the serpent for its soul, 
 Still the breath Divine doth move, 
 And the breath Divine is Love. 
 Woman, fear not ; let me see 
 The seven devils that trouble thee ; 
 Hide not from my sight thy sin, 
 That full forgiveness thou may'st win. 
 Hath no man condemned thee ? ' 
 
 No man, Lord.' 
 
 '• Then what is he 
 Who shall accuse thee ? Come ye forth, 
 Ye fallen fiends of heavenly birth ! 
 Ye shall bow before her feet, 
 Ye shall lick the dust for meat ; 
 And though ye cannot love, but hate, 
 Ye shall be beggars at love's gate. 
 What was thy love ? Let me see't I 
 AVas it love, or dark deceit ? ' 
 
 Love too long from me hath fled ; 
 'Twas dark deceit, to earn my bread ; 
 'Twas covet, or 'twas custom, or 
 Some trifle not worth caring for. 
 But these would call a shame and sin 
 Love's temple that God dwelleth in.' 
 
SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 LOVE'S SECRET. 
 
 Never seek to tell thy love, 
 Love that never told can be ; 
 
 For the gentle wind doth move 
 Silently, invisibly. 
 
 I told my love, I told my love, 
 I told her all my heart, 
 
 Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears. 
 Ah! she did depart. 
 
 Soon after she was gone from me, 
 
 A traveller came by, 
 Silently, invisibly : 
 
 He took her with a sigh. 
 
POEMS HITHERTO UNPUBLISHED. 
 
 THE WILD FLOWEK'S SONG. 
 
 As I wandered in the forest 
 The green leaves among, 
 
 I heard a wild-flower 
 Singing a song. 
 
 ' I slept in the earth 
 
 ' In the silent night, 
 'I murmured my fears 
 
 ' And I felt delight. 
 
 ' In the morning I went, 
 
 ' As rosy as morn, 
 ' To seek for new joy, 
 
 ' But I met with scorn/ 
 
SELECTIONS FKOM BLAKE'S WEITINGS. 
 
 THE CBYSTAL CABINET. 
 
 The maiden caught me in the wild, 
 Where I was dancing merrily ; 
 
 She put me into her cabinet, 
 
 And locked me up with a golden key. 
 
 This cabinet is formed of gold, 
 
 And pearl and crystal shining bright, 
 
 And within it opens into a world 
 And a little lovely moony night. 
 
 Another England there I saw, 
 Another London with its tower, 
 
 Another Thames and other hills, 
 And another pleasant Surrey bower. 
 
 Another maiden like herself, 
 
 Translucent, lovely, shining clear, 
 Threefold, each in the other closed, 
 
 0 what a pleasant trembling fear! 
 
 0 what a smile ! a threefold smile 
 Filled me that like a flame I burned; 
 
 1 bent to kiss the lovely maid, 
 
 And found a threefold kiss returned. 
 
 I strove to seize the inmost form 
 
 With ardour fierce and hands of flame, 
 
 But burst the crystal cabinet, 
 
 And like a weeping babe became. 
 
 A weeping babe upon the wild, 
 
 And weeping woman pale reclined, 
 And in the outward air again 
 
 1 filled with woes the passing wind. 
 
POEMS HITHERTO UNPUBLISHED. 
 
 SMILE AND FROWN. 
 
 There is a smile of Love, 
 
 And there is a smile of Deceit, 
 
 And there is a smile of smiles 
 In which the two smiles meet. 
 
 And there is a frown of Hate, 
 And there is a frown of Disdain, 
 
 And there is a frown of frowns 
 Which you strive to forget in vain, 
 
 For it sticks in the heart's deep core 
 And it sticks in the* deep backbone. 
 
 And no smile ever was smiled 
 But only one smile alone 
 
 (And betwixt the cradle and grave 
 It only once smiled can be), 
 
 That when it once is smiled 
 There's an end to all misery. 
 
SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 THE GOLDEN NET. 
 
 Beneath a white thorn's lovely May, 
 
 Three virgins at the break of day: — 
 
 'Whither, young man, whither away? 
 
 Alas for woe ! alas for woe ! ' 
 
 They cry, and tears for ever flow. 
 
 The first was clothed in flames of fire, 
 
 The second clothed in iron wire ; 
 
 The third was clothed in tears and sighs, 
 
 Dazzling bright before my eyes. 
 
 They bore a net of golden twine 
 
 To hang upon the branches fine. 
 
 Pitying I wept to see the woe 
 
 That love and beauty undergo — 
 
 To be clothed in burning fires 
 
 And in ungratified desires, 
 
 And in tears clothed night and day ; 
 
 It melted all my soul away. 
 
 When they saw my tears, a smile 
 
 That might heaven itself beguile 
 
 Bore the golden net aloft, 
 
 As on downy pinions soft, 
 
 Over the morning of my day. 
 
 Underneath the net I stray, 
 
 Now intreating Flaming-fire, 
 
 Now intreating Iron-wire, 
 
 Now intreating Tears-and-sighs. — 
 
 0 when will the morning rise ! 
 
POEMS HITHERTO UNPUBLISHED. 
 
 THE LAND OF DREAMS. 
 
 1 Awake, awake, my little boy ! 
 
 Thou wast thy mother's only joy ; 
 
 Why dost thou weep in thy gentle sleep ? 
 
 0 wake ! thy father doth thee keep. 
 
 ' O what land is the land of dreams ? 
 
 What are its mountains and what are its streams 
 
 ' 0 father ! I saw my mother there, 
 
 Among the lilies by waters fair, 
 
 ' Among the lambs clothed in white, 
 
 She walked with her Thomas in sweet delight. 
 
 1 wept for joy, like a dove I mourn — 
 
 0 when shall I again return ! ' 
 
 ' Dear child ! I also by pleasant streams 
 
 Have wandered all night in the land of dreams, 
 
 But, though calm and warm the waters wide, 
 
 1 could not get to the other side.' 
 
 ' Father, 0 father ! what do we here, 
 In this land of unbelief and fear ? 
 The land of dreams is better far, 
 Above the light of the morning star.' 
 
SELECTIONS FEOM BLAKE'S WKITINGS. 
 
 MAEY. 
 
 Sweet Mary, the first time she ever was there, 
 Came into the ball-room among the fair ; 
 The young men and maidens around her throng, 
 And these are the words upon every tongue : 
 
 1 An angel is here from the heavenly climes, 
 Or again return the golden times ; 
 Her eyes outshine every brilliant ray, 
 She opens her lips — 'tis the month of May.' 
 
 Mary moves in soft beauty and conscious delight, 
 To augment with sweet smiles all the joys of the night, 
 Nor once blushes to own to the rest of the fair 
 That sweet love and beauty are worthy our care. 
 
 In the morning the villagers rose with delight, 
 
 And repeated with pleasure the joys of the night, 
 
 And Mary arose among friends to be free, 
 
 But no friend from henceforward thou, Mary, shalt see. 
 
 Some said she was proud, some reviled her still more, 
 And some when she passed by shut-to the door ; 
 A damp cold came o'er her, her blushes all fled, 
 Her lilies and roses are blighted and shed. 
 
 ' O why was I born with a different face, 
 Why was I not born like this envious race? 
 Why did heaven adorn me with bountiful hand, 
 And then set me down in an envious land? 
 
POEMS HITHERTO UNPUBLISHED. 
 
 'To be weak as a lamb and smooth as a dove, 
 And not to raise envy, is called Christian love ; 
 But if yon raise envy yonr merit's to blame 
 Fox, planting such spite in the weak and the tame. 
 
 'I will humble my beauty, I will not dress fine, 
 
 I will keep from the ball, and my eyes shall not shine ; 
 
 And if any girl's lover forsakes her for me, 
 
 I'll refuse him my hand and from envy be free.' 
 
 She went out in the morning attired plain and neat ; 
 ' Proud Mary's gone mad,' said the child in the street ; 
 She went out in the morning in plain neat attire, 
 And came home in the evening bespattered with mire. 
 
 She trembled and wept, sitting on the bed-side, 
 She forgot it was night, and she trembled and cried ; 
 She forgot it was night, she forgot it was morn, 
 Her soft memory imprinted with faces of scorn. 
 
 With faces of scorn and with eyes of disdain, 
 Like foul fiends inhabiting Mary's mild brain ; 
 She remembers no face like the human divine ; 
 All faces have envy, sweet Mary, but thine. 
 
 And thine is a face of sweet love in despair, 
 
 And thine is a face of mild sorrow and care, 
 
 And thine is a face of wild terror and fear 
 
 That shall never be quiet till laid on its bier. 
 
SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 AUGURIES OF INNOCENCE. 
 
 To see a world in a grain of sand 
 And a Heaven in a wild flower, 
 
 Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand 
 And Eternity in an hour. 
 
 A Robin redbreast in a cage 
 
 Puts all Heaven in a rage ; 
 
 A dove-house filled with doves and pigeons 
 
 Shudders hell through all its regions ; 
 
 A dog starved at his master's gate 
 
 Predicts the ruin of the State ; 
 
 A game-cock clipped and armed for fight 
 
 Doth the rising sun affright ; 
 
 A horse misused upon the road 
 
 Calls to Heaven for human blood ; 
 
 Every wolfs and lion's howl 
 
 Raises from Hell a human soul ; 
 
 Each outcry of the hunted hare 
 
 A fibre from the brain doth tear ; 
 
 A skylark wounded on the wing 
 
 Doth make a cherub cease to sing. 
 
 He who shall hurt the little wren 
 Shall never be beloved by men ; 
 He who the ox to wrath has moved 
 Shall never be by woman loved ; 
 He who shall train the horse to war 
 Shall never pass the Polar Bar ; 
 The wanton boy that kills the fly 
 Shall feel the spider's enmity ; 
 He who torments the chafer's sprite 
 Weaves a bower in endless night. 
 The caterpillar on the leaf 
 Repeats to thee thy mother's grief: 
 
POEMS HITHERTO UNPUBLISHED. 
 
 The wild deer wandering here and there 
 Keep the human soul from care : 
 The lamb misused breeds public strife, 
 And yet forgives the butcher's knife. 
 Kill not the moth nor butterfly, 
 For the last judgment draweth nigh ; 
 The beggar's dog, and widow's cat, 
 Feed them, and thou shait grow fat. 
 Every tear from every eye 
 Becomes a babe in Eternity ; 
 The bleat, the bark, bellow, and roar, 
 Are waves, that beat on Heaven's shore. 
 
 The bat that flits at close of eve 
 
 Has left the brain that won't believe ; 
 
 The owl that calls upon the night 
 
 Speaks the unbeliever's fright ; 
 
 The gnat that sings his summer's song 
 
 Poison gets from slander's tongue ; 
 
 The poison of the snake and newt 
 
 Is the sweat of envy's foot ; 
 
 The poison of the honey bee 
 
 Is the artist's jealousy ; 
 
 The strongest poison ever known 
 
 Came from Caesar's laurel-crown. 
 
 Naught can deform the human race 
 
 Like to the armourer's iron brace ; 
 
 The soldier armed with sword and gun 
 
 Palsied strikes the summer's sun ; 
 
 When gold and gems adorn the plough, 
 
 To peaceful arts shall envy bow ; 
 
 The beggar's rags fluttering in air 
 
 Do to rags the heavens tear; 
 
 The prince's robes and beggar's rags 
 
 Are toadstools on the miser's bags ; 
 
 One mite wrung from the labourer's hands 
 
 Shall buy and sell the miser's lands, 
 
 Or, if protected from on high, 
 
 Shall that whole nation sell and buy ; 
 
SELECTIONS FEOM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 The poor man's farthing is worth more 
 Than all the gold on Afric's shore. 
 The whore and gambler, by the state 
 Licensed, build that nation's fate ; 
 The harlot's cry from street to street 
 Shall weave old England's winding-sheet; 
 The winner's shout, the loser's curse, 
 Shall dance before dead England's hearse. 
 
 He who mocks the infant's faith 
 
 Shall be mocked in age and death; 
 
 He who shall teach the child to doubt 
 
 The rotting grave shall ne'er get out ; 
 
 He who respects the infant's faith 
 
 Triumphs over hell and death ; 
 
 The babe is more than swaddling bands 
 
 Throughout all these human lands ; 
 
 Tools were made and born were hands, 
 
 Every farmer understands. 
 
 The questioner who sits so sly 
 
 Shall never know how to reply; 
 
 He who replies to words of doubt 
 
 Doth put the light of knowledge out ; 
 
 A puddle, or the cricket's cry, 
 
 Is to doubt a fit reply ; 
 
 The child's toys and the old man's reasons 
 
 Are the fruits of the two seasons ; 
 
 The emmet's inch and eagle's mile 
 
 Make lame philosophy to smile ; 
 
 A truth that's told with bad intent 
 
 Beats all the lies you can invent. 
 
 He who doubts from what he sees 
 
 Will ne'er believe, do what you please ; 
 
 If the sun and moon should doubt, 
 
 They'd immediately go out. 
 
 Every night and every morn 
 Some to misery are born; 
 Every morn and every night 
 Some are born to sweet delight ; 
 
POEMS HITHERTO UNPUBLISHED. 
 
 97 
 
 Some are born to sweet delight, 
 Some are born to endless night. 
 Joy and woe are woven fine, 
 A clothing for the soul divine ; 
 Under every grief and pine 
 Euns a joy with silken twine. 
 It is right it should be so ; 
 Man was made for joy and woe ; 
 And when this we rightly know, 
 Safely through the world we go. 
 
 We are led to believe a lie 
 
 When we see with not through the eye 
 
 Which was born in a night to perish in a night 
 
 When the soul slept in beams of light. 
 
 God appears and God is light 
 
 To those poor souls who dwell in night ; 
 
 But doth a human form display 
 
 To those who dwell in realms of day. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 H 
 
98 
 
 SELECTIONS FEOM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 THE MENTAL TRAVELLEE. 
 
 The ' Mental Traveller ' indicates an explorer of mental phenomena. The mental 
 phenomenon here symbolized seems to be the career of any great Idea or intellectual 
 movement — as, for instance, Christianity, chivalry, art, &c. — represented as going through 
 the stages of — 1. birth, 2. adversity and persecution, 3. triumph and maturity, 4. de- 
 cadence through over-ripeness, 5. gradual transformation, under new conditions, into 
 another renovated Idea, which again has to pass through all the same stages. In other 
 words, the poem represents the action and re-action of Ideas upon society, and of society 
 upon Ideas. 
 
 Argument of the stanzas : 2. The Idea, conceived with pain, is born amid enthusiasm. 
 3. If of masculine, enduring nature, it falls under the control and ban of the already 
 existing state of society (the woman old). 5. As the Idea developes, the old society 
 becomes moulded into a new society (the old woman grows young). 6. The Idea, now 
 free and dominant, is united to society, as it were in wedlock. 8. It gradually grows old 
 and effete, living now only upon the spiritual treasures laid up in the days of its early 
 energy. 10. These still subserve many purposes of practical good, and outwardly the 
 Idea is in its most flourishing estate, even when sapped at its roots. 11. The halo of 
 authority and tradition, or prestige, gathering round the Idea, is symbolized in the 
 resplendent babe born on his hearth. 13. This prestige deserts the Idea itself, and 
 attaches to some individual, who usurps the honour due only to the Idea (as we may see 
 in the case of papacy, royalty, &c.) ; and the Idea is eclipsed by its own very prestige, and 
 assumed living representative. 14. The Idea wanders homeless till it can find a new 
 community to mould ('until he can a maiden win'). 15 to 17. Finding whom, the Idea 
 finds itself also living under strangely different conditions. 18. The Idea is now 
 u beguiled to infancy" — becomes a new Idea, in working upon a fresh community, and 
 under altered conditions. 20. Nor are they yet thoroughly at one ; she flees away while 
 he pursues. 22. Here we return to the first state of the case. The Idea starts upon a 
 new course— is a babe ; the society it works upon has become an old society — no longer 
 a fair virgin, but an aged woman. 24. The Idea seems so new and unwonted that, the 
 nearer it is seen, the more consternation it excites. 26. None can deal with the Idea so 
 as to develope it to the full, except the old society with which it comes into contact; and 
 this can deal with it only by misusing it at first, whereby (as in the previous stage, at 
 the opening of the poem) it is to be again disciplined into ultimate triumph. 
 
 1. 
 
 I travelled through a land of men, 
 
 A land of men and women too ; 
 And heard and saw such dreadful things 
 
 As cold earth-wanderers never knew. 
 
POEMS HITHERTO UNPUBLISHED. 
 
 2. 
 
 For there the babe is born in joy 
 That was begotten in dire woe ; 
 
 Just as we reap in joy the fruit 
 Which we in bitter tears did sow. 
 
 3. 
 
 And if the babe is born a boy, 
 
 He's given to a woman old, 
 Who nails him down upon a rock, 
 
 Catches his shrieks in cups of gold. 
 
 4. 
 
 She binds strong thorns around his head, 
 She pierces both his hands and feet, 
 
 She cuts his heart out at his side, 
 To make it feel both cold and heat. 
 
 5. 
 
 He rfingers number every nerve 
 Just as a miser counts his gold; 
 
 She lives upon his shrieks and cries, 
 And she grows young as he grows old. 
 
 6. 
 
 Till he becomes a bleeding youth, 
 And she becomes a virgin bright ; 
 
 Then he rends up his manacles 
 
 And binds her down for his delight. 
 
 7. 
 
 He plants himself in all her nerves 
 Just as a husbandman his mould, 
 
 And she becomes his dwelling-place 
 And garden fruitful seventyfold. 
 
 8. 
 
 An aged shadow soon he fades, 
 Wandering round an earthly cot, 
 
 Full filled all with gems and gold 
 Which he by industry had got. 
 H 2 
 
100 
 
 SELECTIONS FEOM BLAKE'S WKITINGS. 
 
 9. 
 
 And these are the gems of the human soul, 
 The rubies and pearls of a lovesick eye, 
 
 The countless gold of the aching heart, 
 The martyr's groan and the lover's sigh. 
 
 10. 
 
 They are his meat, they are his drink ; 
 
 He feeds the beggar and the poor ; 
 To the wayfaring traveller 
 
 For ever open is his door. 
 
 11. 
 
 His grief is their eternal joy, 
 
 They make the roofs and walls to ring ; 
 Till from the fire upon the hearth 
 
 A little female babe doth spring. 
 
 12. 
 
 And she is all of solid fire 
 
 And gems and gold, that none his hand 
 Dares stretch to touch her baby form 
 
 Or wrap her in his swaddling band. 
 
 13. 
 
 But she comes to the man she loves, 
 If young or old or rich or poor ; 
 
 They soon drive out the aged host, 
 A beggar at another's door. 
 
 14 
 
 He wanders weeping far away, 
 Until some other take him in ; 
 
 Oft blind and age-bent, sore distress'd, 
 Until he can a maiden win. 
 
 15. 
 
 And to allay his freezing age, 
 
 The poor man takes her in his arms ; 
 
 The cottage fades before his sight, 
 The garden and its lovely charms. 
 
POEMS HITHEETO UNPUBLISHED. 
 
 101 
 
 16. 
 
 The guests are scattered through the land ; 
 
 For the eye altering alters all ; 
 The senses roll themselves in fear, 
 
 And the flat earth becomes a ball. 
 
 17. 
 
 The stars, sun, moon, all shrink away, 
 A desert vast without a bound, 
 
 And nothing left to eat or drink, 
 And a dark desert all around : 
 
 18. 
 
 The honey of her infant lips, 
 
 The bread and wine of her sweet smile, 
 The wild game of her roving eye, 
 
 Do him to infancy beguile. 
 
 19. 
 
 For as he eats and drinks he grows 
 Younger and younger every day, 
 
 And on the desert wild they both 
 Wander in terror and dismay. 
 
 20. 
 
 Like the wild stag she flees away ; 
 
 Her fear plants many a thicket wild, 
 While he pursues her night and day, 
 
 By various arts of love beguiled. 
 
 21. 
 
 By various arts of love and hate, 
 Till the wild desert's planted o'er 
 
 With labyrinths of wayward love, 
 Where roam the lion, wolf, and boar. 
 
 22. 
 
 Till he becomes a wayward babe, 
 And she a weeping woman old; 
 
 Then many a lover wanders here, 
 The sun and stars are nearer rolled ; 
 
102 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 23. 
 
 The trees bring forth sweet ecstacy 
 To all who in the desert roam ; 
 
 Till many a city there is built, 
 
 And many a pleasant shepherd's home. 
 
 24. 
 
 But when they find the frowning babe, 
 Terror strikes through the region wide : 
 
 They cry — ' the babe — the babe is born ! ' 
 And flee away on every side. 
 
 25. 
 
 For who dare touch the frowning form, 
 His arm is withered to its root : 
 
 Bears, lions, wolves, all howling flee, 
 And every tree doth shed its fruit. 
 
 26. 
 
 And none can touch that frowning form 
 
 Except it be a woman old ; 
 She nails it down upon the rock, 
 
 And all is done as I have told. 
 
POEMS HITHERTO UNPUBLISHED. 
 
 103 
 
 WILLIAM BOND. 
 
 I wonder whether the girls are mad, 
 
 And I wonder whether they mean to kill, 
 And I wonder if William Bond will die, 
 /For assuredly he is very ill. 
 
 He went to church on a May morning, 
 Attended by fairies, one, two, and three, 
 
 But the angels of Providence drove them away, 
 And he returned home in misery. 
 
 He went not out to the field nor fold, 
 He went not out to the village nor town, 
 
 But he came home in a black black cloud, 
 And took to his bed, and there lay down. 
 
 And an angel of Providence at his feet, 
 And an angel of Providence at his head, 
 
 And in the midst a black black cloud, 
 
 And in the midst the sick man on his bed. 
 
 And on his right hand was Mary Green, 
 And on his left hand was his sister Jane, 
 
 And their tears fell through the black black cloud 
 To drive away the sick man's pain. 
 
 ' 0 William, if thou dost another love, 
 Dost another love better than poor Mary, 
 
 Go and take that other to be thy wife, 
 And Mary Green shall her servant be/ 
 
 ' Yes, Mary, I do another love, 
 
 Another I love far better than thee, 
 
 And another I will have for my wife : 
 Then what have I to do with thee? 
 
104 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 'For thou art melancholy pale, 
 
 And on thy head is the cold moon's shine, 
 But she is ruddy and bright as day, 
 
 And the sunbeams dazzle from her eyne. ' 
 
 Mary trembled, and Mary chilled, 
 
 And Mary fell down on the right-hand floor, 
 That William Bond and his sister Jane 
 
 Scarce could recover Mary more. 
 
 When Mary woke and found her laid 
 On the right-hand of her William dear, 
 
 On the right-hand of his loved bed, 
 And saw her William Bond so near ; 
 
 The fairies that fled from William Bond 
 
 Danced around her shining head ; 
 They danced over the pillow white, 
 
 And the angels of Providence left the bed. 
 
 ' I thought Love lived in the hot sunshine, 
 But oh, he lives in the moony light ; 
 
 I thought to find Love in the heat of day, 
 But sweet Love is the comforter of night. 
 
 'Seek Love in the pity of others' woe, 
 In the gentle relief of another's care, 
 
 In the darkness of night and the winter's snow, 
 With the naked and outcast, — seek Love there.' 
 
POEMS HITHEKTO UNPUBLISHED. 
 
 SCOFFEKS. 
 
 Mock on, mock on, Voltaire, Kousseau, 
 Mock on, mock on ; 'tis all in vain ; 
 
 You throw the sand against the wind, 
 And the wind blows it back again. 
 
 And every sand becomes a gem 
 Beflected in the beams divine ; 
 
 Blown back, they blind the mocking eye, 
 But still in Israel's paths they shine. 
 
 The atoms of Democritus 
 
 And Newton's particles of light 
 
 Are sands upon the Eed Sea shore 
 
 Where Israel's tents do shine so bright. 
 
SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 THE AGONY OF FAITH. 
 
 'I see, I see,' the mother said, 
 ' My children will die for lack of bread ! 
 What more has the merciless tyrant said?' 
 The monk sat him down on her stony bed. 
 
 His eye was dry, no tear could flow, 
 A hollow groan bespoke his woe ; 
 He trembled and shuddered upon the bed ; 
 At length with a feeble cry he said : — 
 
 'When God commanded this hand to w T rite 
 In the shadowy hours of deep midnight, 
 He told me that all I wrote should prove 
 The bane of all that on earth I love. 
 
 'My brother starved between two walls, 
 Thy children's crying my soul appals; 
 I mocked at the rack and the griding chain, — 
 My bent body mocks at their torturing pain. 
 
 'Thy father drew his sword in the north, 
 With his thousands strong he is marched forth ; 
 Thy brother hath armed himself in steel, 
 To revenge the wrongs thy children feel. 
 
 'But vain the sword, and vain the bow, — 
 They never can work war's overthrow ; 
 The hermit's prayer and the widow's tear 
 Alone can free the world from fear. 
 
 'For a tear is an intellectual thing, 
 And a sigh is the sword of an angel king ; 
 And the bitter groan of a martyr's woe 
 Is an arrow from the Almighty's bow. 
 
 'The hand of vengeance found the bed 
 To which the purple tyrant fled ; 
 The iron hand crushed the tyrant's head, 
 And became a tyrant in his stead.' 
 
POEMS HITHERTO UNPUBLISHED. 
 
 DAYBREAK. 
 
 To find the western path, 
 
 Right through the gates of wrath 
 
 I urge my way ; 
 Sweet morning leads me on ; 
 With soft repentant moan 
 
 I see the break of day. 
 
 The war of swords and spears, 
 Melted by dewy tears, 
 
 Exhales on high ; 
 The sun is freed from fears, 
 And with soft grateful tears 
 
 Ascends the sky. 
 
 THAMES AKD OHIO. 
 
 Why should I care for the men of Thames 
 And the cheating waters of chartered streams ; 
 Or shrink at the little blasts of fear 
 That the hireling blows into mine ear ? 
 
 Though born on the cheating banks of Thames- 
 Though his waters bathed my infant limbs — 
 The Ohio shall wash his stains from me ; 
 I was born a slave, but I go to be free. 
 
SELECTIONS FEOM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 YOUNG LOVE. 
 
 Are not the joys of morning sweeter 
 
 Than the joys of night? 
 And are the vigorous joys of youth 
 
 Ashamed of the light? 
 
 Let age and sickness silent rob 
 
 The vineyard in the night ; 
 But those who burn with vigorous youth 
 
 Pluck fruits before the light. 
 
 RICHES. 
 
 Since all the riches of this world 
 
 May be gifts from the devil and earthly kings, 
 I should suspect that I worshipped the devil 
 
 If I thanked my God for worldly things. 
 
 The countless gold of a merry heart, 
 The rubies and pearls of a loving eye, 
 
 The idle man never can bring to the mart 
 Nor the cunning hoard up in his treasury. 
 
POEMS HITHEKTO UNPUBLISHED. 
 
 OPPORTUNITY. 
 
 He who bends to himself a joy 
 Does the winged life destroy; 
 But he who kisses the joy as it flies 
 Lives in eternity's sunrise. 
 
 If yon trap the moment before it's ripe, 
 The tears of repentance you'll certainly wipe ; 
 But if once you let the ripe moment go 
 You can never wipe off the tears of woe. 
 
 SEED SOWING. 
 
 1 Thou hast a lapful of seed 
 
 And this is a fair country . 
 Why dost thou not cast thy seed 
 
 And live in it merrily?' 
 
 ' Shall I cast it on the sand 
 
 And turn it into fruitful land? 
 
 For on no other ground can I sow my seed 
 
 Without tearing up some stinking weed.' 
 
110 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 BARREN BLOSSOM. 
 
 I feared the fury of my wind 
 
 Would blight all blossoms fair and true ; 
 And my sun it shined and shined, 
 
 And my wind it never blew. 
 
 But a blossom fair or true 
 
 Was not found on any tree ; 
 For all blossoms grew and grew 
 
 Fruitless, false, though fair to see. 
 
 NIGHT AND DAY. 
 
 Silent, silent Night, 
 Quench the holy light 
 Of thy torches bright ; 
 
 For, possessed of Day, 
 Thousand spirits stray 
 That sweet joys betray. 
 
 Why should joys be sweet 
 
 Used with deceit, 
 
 Nor with sorrows meet? 
 
 But an honest joy 
 Doth itself destroy 
 For a harlot coy. 
 
POEMS HITHEKTO UNPUBLISHED. 
 
 Ill 
 
 IN A MYRTLE SHADE. 
 
 To a lovely myrtle bound, 
 Blossoms showering all around, 
 0 how weak and weary I 
 Underneath my myrtle lie ! 
 
 Why should I be bound to thee, 
 O my lovely myrtle tree ? 
 Love, free love, cannot be bound 
 To any tree that grows on ground. 
 
SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE S WRITINGS. 
 
 COUPLETS AND FRAGMENTS. 
 I. 
 
 I walked abroad on a snowy day, 
 I asked the soft snow with me to play : 
 She played and she melted in all her prime; 
 And the winter called it a dreadful crime. 
 
 II. 
 
 Abstinence sows sand all over 
 
 The ruddy limbs and naming hair ; 
 
 But desire gratified 
 
 Plants fruits of life and beauty there. 
 
 in. 
 
 The look of love alarms, 
 
 Because 'tis filled with fire, 
 But the look of soft deceit 
 
 Shall win the lover's hire : 
 Soft deceit and* idleness, 
 These are beauty's sweetest dress. 
 
 IV. 
 
 To Chloe's breast young Cupid slily stole, 
 But he crept in at Myra's pocket-hole. 
 
 v. 
 
 Great things are done when men and mountains meet ; 
 These are not done by jostling in the street. 
 
 VI. 
 
 The errors of a wise man make your rule, 
 Eather than the perfections of a fool. 
 
POEMS HITHEETO UNPUBLISHED. 
 
 113 
 
 VII. 
 
 Some people admire the work of a fool, 
 For it's sure to keep your judgment cool : 
 It does not reproach you with want of wit ; 
 It is not like a lawyer serving a writ. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 He's a blockhead who wants a proof of what he can't perceive, 
 And he's a fool who tries to make such a blockhead believe. 
 \ 
 
 IX. 
 
 y If e'er I grow to man's estate, 
 O give to me a woman's fate. 
 May I govern all both great and small, 
 Have the last word, and take the wall ! 
 
 x. 
 
 Her whole life is an epigram — smack, smooth, and nobly penn'd, 
 Plaited quite neat to catch applause, with a strong noose at the end. 
 
 XL 
 
 To forgive enemies Hayley does pretend, 
 Who never in his life forgave a friend. 
 
 XII. 
 
 You say reserve and modesty he has, 
 
 Whose heart is iron, his head wood, and his face brass. 
 
 The fox, the owl, the spider, and the bat 
 
 By sweet reserve and modesty grow fat. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 An Answer to the Parson. 
 Why of the sheep do you not learn peace? 
 Because I don't want you to shear my fleece. 
 
 XIV. 
 Epitaph. 
 
 Here lies John Trot, the friend of all mankind ; 
 He has not left one enemy behind. 
 Friends were quite hard to find, old authors say ; 
 But now they stand in everybody's way. 
 VOL II. i 
 
114 
 
 SELECTIONS FKOM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 EPIGRAMS AND SATIRICAL PIECES ART AND ARTISTS. 
 
 1 
 
 I asked of my dear friend orator Prig : 
 
 ' What's the first part of oratory?' He said : 'a great wig.' 
 
 'And what is the second?' Then, dancing a jig 
 
 And bowing profoundly, he said : ' a great wig.' 
 
 'And what is the third?' Then he snored like a pig, 
 
 And, puffing his cheeks out, replied : ' A great wig.' 
 
 So if to a painter the question you push, 
 
 'Whafs the first part of painting?' he'll say: 'A paint-brush.' 
 
 'And what is the second?' with most modest blush, 
 
 He'll smile like a cherub, and say : " A paint-brush." 
 
 'And what is the third?' he'll bow like a rush, 
 
 With a leer in his eye, and reply : " A paint-brush." 
 
 Perhaps this is all a painter can want : 
 
 But look yonder, — that house is the house of Rembrandt. 
 
 2 
 
 '0 dear mother Outline, of wisdom most sage, 
 
 What's the first part of painting?' She said: 'Patronage. 
 
 'And what is the second to please and engage?' 
 
 She frowned like a fury, and said : ' Patronage.' 
 
 'And what is the third?' She put off old age, 
 
 And smiled like a syren, and said : ' Patronage.' 
 
 3 
 
 On the great encouragement given by English Nobility and Gentry to 
 Gorreggio, Rubens, Rembrandt, Reynolds, Gainsborough, Gatalani, 
 and Dilberry Doodle. 
 
 Give pensions to the learned pig, 
 Or the hare playing on a tabor; 
 
 Anglus can never see perfection 
 But in the journeyman's labour. 
 
POEMS HITHERTO UNPUBLISHED. 
 
 115 
 
 As the ignorant savage will sell his own wife 
 
 For a button, a bauble, a bead, or a knife, — 
 
 So the taught savage Englishman spends his whole fortune 
 
 On a smear or a squall to destroy picture or tune : 
 
 And I call upon Colonel Wardle 
 
 To give these rascals a dose of caudle. 
 
 All pictures that's painted with sense or with thought 
 
 Are painted by madmen, as sure as a groat ; 
 
 For the greater the fool, in the Art the more blest, 
 
 And when they are drunk they always paint best. 
 
 They never can Eaphael it, Fuseli it, nor Blake it : 
 
 If they can't see an outline, pray how can they make it? 
 
 All men have drawn outlines whenever they saw them ; 
 
 Madmen see outlines, and therefore they draw them. 
 
 4 
 
 Seeing a Eembrandt or Correggio, 
 
 Of crippled Harry I think and slobbering Joe ; 
 
 And then I question thus : Are artists' rules 
 
 To be drawn from the works of two manifest fools? 
 
 Then God defend us from the Arts, I say ; 
 
 For battle, murder, sudden death, let's pray. 
 
 Eather than be such a blind human fool, 
 
 I'd be an ass, a hog, a worm, a chair, a stool. 
 
 5 
 
 To English Connoisseurs. 
 You must agree that Eubens was a fool, 
 And yet you make him master of your school, 
 And give more money for his slobberings 
 Than you will give for Eaphael's finest things. 
 I understood Christ was a carpenter, 
 And not a brewer's servant, my good Sir. 
 
 6 
 
 Sir Joshua praises Michael Angelo; 
 'Tis Christian meekness thus to praise a foe : — 
 But 'twould be madness, all the world would say, 
 Should Michael Angelo praise Sir Joshua. 
 Christ used the Pharisees in a rougher way. 
 i 2 
 
116 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 7 
 
 To Flaxman. 
 
 You call me mad; 'tis folly to do so, — 
 To seek to turn a madman to a foe. 
 If you think as you speak, you are an ass ; 
 If you do not, you are but what you was. 
 
 I mock thee not, though I by thee am mocked; 
 Thou call'st me madman, but I call thee blockhead. 
 
 9 
 
 Thank God, I never was sent to school 
 
 To be flogged into following the style of a fool ! 
 
 8 
 
 To the same. 
 
PROSE WRITINGS. 
 
 DESCEIPTIVE CATALOGUE. 
 PUBLIC ADDKESS. 
 SYBILLINE LEAVES. 
 A VISION OE THE LAST JUDGMENT. 
 
[Of the prose writings which now follow, the only ones already in print are the 
 Descriptive Catalogue and the Syoilline Leaves. To the former of these, the Public 
 Address which here succeeds it forms a fitting and most interesting pendant. It has been 
 compiled from a very confused mass of MS. notes; but its purpose is unmistakeable 
 as having been intended for an accompaniment to the engraving of Chaucer's Pilgrims. 
 Both the Catalogue and Address abound in critical passages on painting and poetry ; 
 which must be ranked without reserve among the very best things ever said on either 
 subject. Such inestimable qualities afford quite sufficient ground whereon to claim 
 indulgence for eccentricities which are here and there laughably excessive, but which 
 never fail to have a personal, even where they have no critical, value. As evidence of 
 the writer's many moods, these pieces of prose are much best left unmutilated. Let us, 
 therefore, risk misconstruction in some quarters; there are others where even the 
 whimsical onslaughts on names no less great than those which the writer most highly 
 honoured, and assertions as to this or that component quality of art being everything 
 or nothing as it served the fiery plea in hand, will be discerned as the impatient 
 extremes of a man who had his own woi'k to do, which was of one kind as he thought 
 against another, and who mainly did it too, in spite of that injustice without which no 
 extremes might ever have been chargeable against him. And let us remember that, 
 after all, having greatness in him, his practice of art included all great aims, whether 
 they were such as his antagonistic moods railed against or no. 
 
 The Vision is almost as much a manifesto of opinion as either the Catalogue or 
 Address. But its work is in a wider field, and one which, where it stretches beyond 
 our own clear view, may not necessarily therefore have been a lost road to Blake him- 
 self. Certainly its grandeur and the sudden great things greatly said in it, as in all 
 Blake's prose, constitute it an addition to our opportunities of communing with him, 
 and one which we may prize highly. 
 
 The constant decisive words in which Blake alludes, throughout these writings, to the 
 plagiarisms of his contemporaries, are painful to read, and will be wished away ; but still 
 it will be worth thinking whether their being said, or the need of their being said, is the 
 greater cause for complaint. Justice, looking through surface accomplishments, greater 
 nicety and even greater occasional judiciousness of execution, in the men whom Blake 
 compares with himself, still perceives these words of his to be true. In each style of the 
 art of a period, and more especially in the poetic style, there is often some one central 
 derivative man, to whom personally, if not to the care of the world, it is important that 
 his creative power should be held to be his own, and that his ideas and slowly perfected 
 materials should not be caught up before he has them ready for his own use. Yet, con- 
 sciously or unconsciously, such an one's treasures and possessions are time after time, 
 while he still lives and needs them, sent forth to the world by others in forms from which 
 he cannot perhaps again clearly claim what is his own, but which render the material 
 useless to him henceforward. Hardly wonderful, after all, if for once an impetuous man 
 of this kind is found raising the hue and cry, careless whether people heed him or no. 
 It is no small provocation, be sure, when the gazers hoot you as outstripped in your 
 race, and you know all the time that the man ahead, whom they shout for, is only a flying 
 thief.] 
 
A DESCRIPTIVE 
 
 CATALOGUE OF PICTURES, 
 POETICAL AND HISTORICAL INVENTIONS, 
 
 PAINTED BY WILLIAM BLAKE IN WATER-COLOURS, 
 Being the ancient method of Fresco Painting revived : 
 
 and Drawings for Public Inspection, and for Sale by Private Contract. 
 
 London : Printed by D. N. Shury, 7, Berwick Street, Soho, for J. Blake, 
 28, Broad Street, Golden Square. 1809. 
 
 CONDITIONS OF SAIE. 
 
 I. One-third of the Price to be paid at the time of Purchase, and the remainder 
 on Delivery. 
 
 II. The Pictures and Drawings to remain in the Exhibition till its close, which will 
 be the 29th of September, 1809 ; and the Picture of The Canterbury Pilgrims, 
 which is to be engraved, will be sold only 011 condition of its remaining in the 
 Artist's hands twelve months, when it will be delivered to the Buyer. 
 
 NUMBER I. 
 
 The Spiritual Form of Nelson guiding Leviathan, in whose wreathings are 
 infolded the Nations of the Earth. 
 
 Clearness and precision have been the chief objects in painting these 
 Pictures. Clear colours unmudded by oil, and firm and determinate 
 lineaments unbroken by shadows, which ought to display and not to 
 hide form, as is the practice of the latter Schools of Italy and Flanders. 
 
120 
 
 SELECTIONS FEOM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 NUMBER II :— ITS COMPANION. 
 
 The Spiritual Form of Pitt guiding Behemoth; he is that Angel who, pleased 
 to perform the Almighty's orders, rides on the whirlwind, directing the 
 storms of war ; He is ordering the Reaper to reap the Vine of the Earth, 
 and the Ploughman to plough up the Cities and Towers. 
 
 This Picture also is a proof of the power of colours unsullied with oil 
 or with any cloggy vehicle. Oil has falsely been supposed to give strength 
 to colours : but a little consideration must show the fallacy of this opinion. 
 Oil will not drink or absorb colour enough to stand the test of very 
 little time and of the air. It deadens every colour it is mixed with, at 
 its first mixture, and in a little time becomes a yellow mask over all that 
 it touches. Let the works of modern Artists since Eubens' time witness 
 the villany of some one at that time, who first brought Oil Painting into 
 general opinion and practice : since which we have never had a Picture 
 painted, that could show itself by the side of an earlier production. 
 Whether Rubens or Vandyke, or both, were guilty of this villany, is to 
 be inquired in another work on Painting, and who first forged the silly 
 story and known falsehood about John of Bruges inventing oil-colours : in 
 the meantime let it be observed, that before Vandyke's time and in his 
 time all the genuine Pictures are on Plaster or Whiting grounds, and 
 none since. 
 
 The two Pictures of Nelson and Pitt are compositions of a mythological 
 cast, similar to those Apotheoses of Persian, Hindoo, and Egyptian 
 Antiquity, which are still preserved on rude monuments, being copies 
 from some stupendous originals now lost, or perhaps buried till some happier 
 age. The Artist having been taken in vision into the ancient republics, 
 monarchies, and patriarchates of Asia, has seen those wonderful originals, 
 called in the Sacred Scriptures the Cherubim, which were sculptured and 
 painted on walls of Temples, Towers, Cities, Palaces, and erected in the 
 highly cultivated States of Egypt, Moab, Edom, Aram, among the Rivers of 
 Paradise — being originals from which the Greeks and Hetrurians copied 
 Hercules Farnese, Venus of Medicis, Apollo Belvedere, and all the grand 
 works of ancient art. They were executed in a very superior style to 
 those justly admired copies, being with their accompaniments terrific and 
 grand in the highest degree. The Artist has endeavoured to emulate the 
 
DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE. 
 
 121 
 
 grandeur of those seen in his vision, and to apply it to modern Heroes, 
 on a smaller scale. 
 
 ~No man can believe that either Homer's Mythology, or Ovid's, was 
 the production of Greece, or of Latium ; neither will any one believe 
 that the Greek statues, as they are called, were the invention of Greek 
 Artists ; perhaps the Torso is the only original work remaining ; all the 
 rest are evidently copies, though fine ones, from greater works of the 
 Asiatic Patriarchs. The Greek Muses are daughters of Mnemosyne or 
 Memory, and not of Inspiration or Imagination, therefore not authors of 
 such sublime conceptions. Those wonderful originals seen in my visions 
 were some of, them one hundred feet in height ; some were painted as 
 pictures, and some carved as basso-rilievos, and some as groups of statues, 
 all containing mythological and recondite meaning, where more is meant 
 than meets the eye. The Artist wishes it was now the fashion to make 
 such monuments, and then he should not doubt of having a national 
 commission to execute these two Pictures on a scale that is suitable 
 to the grandeur of the nation, who is the parent of his heroes, in high- 
 finished fresco, where the colours would be as pure and as permanent 
 as precious stones though the figures were one hundred feet in height. 
 
 All Frescoes are as high-finished as miniatures or enamels, and they are 
 known to be unchangeable ; but oil, being a body itself, will drink or 
 absorb very little colour, and, changing yellow, and at length brown, 
 destroys every colour it is mixed with, especially every delicate colour. 
 It turns every permanent white to a yellow and brown putty, and has 
 compelled the use of that destroyer of colour, white-lead, which, when 
 its protecting oil is evaporated, will become lead again. This is an awful 
 thing to say to Oil Painters ; they may call it madness, but it is true. 
 All the genuine old little Pictures, called Cabinet Pictures, are in fresco 
 and not in oil. Oil was not used, except by blundering ignorance, till 
 after Vandyke's time ; but the art of fresco-painting being lost, oil became a 
 fetter to genius and a dungeon to art. But one convincing proof among 
 many others that these assertions are true is, that real gold and silver 
 cannot be used with oil, as they are in all the old pictures and in 
 Mr. B.'s frescoes. 
 
122 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 NUMBER III. 
 
 Sir Jeffery Chaucer and the Nine-and-twenty Pilgrims on their journey 
 
 to Canterbury. 
 
 The time chosen is early morning, before sunrise, when the jolly company 
 are just quitting the Tabarde Inn. The Knight and Squire with the 
 Squire's Yeoman lead the Procession ; next follow the youthful Abbess, 
 her nun, and three priests ; her greyhounds attend her : 
 
 - Of small hounds had she that she fed 
 With roast flesh, milk, and wastel bread.' 
 
 Next follow the Friar and Monk ; then the Tapiser, the Pardoner, and 
 the Sompnour and Manciple. After these ' Our Host,' who occupies the 
 centre of the cavalcade, directs them to the Knight as the person who 
 would be likely to commence their task of each telling a tale in 
 their order. After the Host follow the Shipman, the Haberdasher, the 
 Dyer, the Franklin, the Physician, the Ploughman, the Lawyer, the Poor 
 Parson, the Merchant, the Wife of Bath, the Miller, the Cook, the 
 Oxford Scholar, Chaucer himself ; and the Reeve comes as Chaucer has 
 described, — 
 
 ' And ever he rode hinderest of the rout. ' 
 
 These last are issuing from the gateway of the Inn ; the Cook and the 
 Wife of Bath are both taking their morning's draught of comfort. 
 Spectators stand at the gateway of the Inn, and are composed of an old 
 Man, a Woman, and Children. 
 
 The Landscape is an eastward view of the country, from the Tabarde 
 Inn in Southwark, as it may be supposed to have appeared in Chaucer's 
 time ; interspersed with cottages and villages. The first beams of the Sun 
 are seen above the horizon ; some buildings and spires indicate the situation 
 of the Great City, The Inn is a gothic building, which Thynne in his 
 Glossary says was the lodging of the Abbot of Hyde, by Winchester. 
 On the Inn is inscribed its title, and a proper advantage is taken of this 
 circumstance to describe the subject of the Picture. The words written 
 over the gateway of the Inn are as follow : ' The Tabarde Inn, by Henry 
 Baillie, the lodgynge-house for Pilgrims who journey to Saint Thomas's 
 Shrine at Canterbury.' 
 
DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE. 
 
 123 
 
 The characters of Chaucer's Pilgrims are the characters which compose 
 all ages and nations. As one age falls, another rises, different to mortal 
 sight, but to immortals only the same \ for we see the same characters 
 repeated again and again, in animals, vegetables, minerals, and in men. 
 Nothing new occurs in identical existence ; Accident ever varies, Substance 
 can never suffer change nor decay. 
 
 Of Chaucer's characters, as described in his Canterbury Tales, some 
 of the names or titles are altered by time, but the characters themselves 
 for ever remain unaltered ; and consequently they are the physiognomies 
 or lineaments of universal human life, beyond which. Nature never steps. 
 Names alter, things never alter. I have known multitudes of those who 
 would have been monks in the age of monkery, who in this deistical age 
 are deists. As Newton numbered the stars, and as Linnseus numbered the 
 plants, so Chaucer numbered the classes of men. 
 
 The Painter has consequently varied the heads and forms of his 
 personages into all Nature's varieties ; the Horses he has also varied to 
 accord to their Eiders : the Costume is correct according to authentic 
 monuments. , 1 
 
 The Knight and Squire with the Squire's Yeoman lead the procession, as 
 Chaucer has also placed them first in his prologue. The Knight is a true 
 Hero, a good, great, and wise man ; his whole-length portrait on horseback, 
 as written by Chaucer, cannot be surpassed. He has spent his life in the 
 field, has ever been a conqueror, and is that species of character which in 
 every age stands as the guardian of man against the oppressor. His son is 
 like him, with the germ of perhaps greater perfection still, as he blends lite- 
 rature and the arts with his warlike studies. Their dress and their horses 
 are of the first rate, without ostentation, and with all the true grandeur that 
 unaffected simplicity when in high rank always displays. The Squire's 
 Yeoman is also a great character, a man perfectly knowing in his pro- 
 fession : 
 
 * And in his hand lie bare a mighty bow.' 
 
 Chaucer describes here a mighty man, one who in war is the worthy 
 attendant on noble heroes. 
 
 The Prioress follows these with her female chaplain: 
 
 ' Another Nonne also with her had she, 
 That was her Chapelaine, and Priestes three.' 
 
 This Lady is described also as of the first rank, rich and honoured. She 
 has certain peculiarities and little delicate affectations, not unbecoming 
 
124 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 in her, being accompanied with what is truly grand and really polite ; her 
 person and face Chaucer has described with minuteness ; it is very elegant, 
 and was the beauty of our ancestors till after Elizabeth's time, when 
 voluptuousness and folly began to be accounted beautiful. 
 
 Her companion and her three priests were no doubt all perfectly 
 delineated in those parts of Chaucer's work which are now lost ; we 
 ought to suppose them suitable attendants on rank and fashion. 
 
 The Monk follows these with the Friar. The Painter has also grouped 
 with these the Pardoner and the Sompnour and the Manciple, and has 
 here also introduced one of the rich citizens of London ; — characters 
 likely to ride in company, all being above the common rank in life, or 
 attendants on those who were so. 
 
 For the Monk is described by Chaucer, as a man of the first rank in 
 society, noble, rich, and expensively attended : he is a leader of the age, 
 with certain humorous accompaniments in his character, that do not de- 
 grade, but render him an object of dignified mirth, but also with other 
 accompaniments not so respectable. 
 
 The Friar is a character also of a mixed kind : 
 
 ' A friar there was, a wanton and a merry ; ' 
 
 but in his office he is said to be a ' full solemn man : ' eloquent, amorous, 
 witty, and satirical ; young, handsome, and rich ; he is a complete rogue * 
 with constitutional gaiety enough to make him a master of all the pleasures 
 of the world : 
 
 ' His neck was white as the flour de lis, 
 Thereto strong he was as a champioun.' 
 
 It is necessary here to speak of Chaucer's own character, that I may set 
 certain mistaken critics right in their conception of the humour and fun 
 that occur on the journey. Chaucer is himself the great poetical ob- 
 server of men, who in every age is born to record and eternize its acts. 
 This he does as a master, as a father and superior, who looks down on 
 their little follies from the Emperor to the Miller : sometimes with severity, 
 oftener with joke and sport. 
 
 Accordingly Chaucer has made his Monk a great tragedian, one who 
 studied poetical art. So much so that the generous Knight is, in the 
 compassionate dictates of his soul, compelled to cry out : 
 
 ' Ho/ quoth the Knyght, ' good Sir, no more of this ; 
 That ye have said is right ynough, I wis, 
 
DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE. 
 
 125 
 
 And mokell more ; for little heaviness 
 Is right enough for much folk, as I guess. 
 I say, for me, it is a great disease, 
 Whereas men have been in wealth and ease, 
 To heare of their sudden fall, alas ! 
 And the contrary is joy and solas.' 
 
 The Monk's definition of tragedy in the proem to his tale is worth 
 repeating : 
 
 ' Tragedy is to tell a certain story, 
 As olde books us maken memory, 
 Of hem that stood in great prosperity, 
 And be fallen out of high degree, 
 Into misery, and ended wretchedly.' 
 
 Though a man of luxury, pride, and pleasure, he is a master of art 
 and learning, though affecting to despise it. Those who can think that 
 the proud Huntsman and nohle Housekeeper, Chaucer's Monk, is intended 
 for a buffoon or burlesque character, know little of Chaucer. 
 
 For the Host who follows this group, and holds the centre of the 
 cavalcade, is a first-rate character, and his jokes are no trifles ; they are 
 always, though uttered with audacity, equally free with the Lord and 
 the Peasant ; they are always substantially and weightily expressive of 
 knowledge and experience ; Henry Baillie, the keeper of the greatest 
 Inn of the greatest City ; for such was the Tabarde Inn in Southwark, 
 near London : our Host was also a leader of the age. 
 
 By way of illustration, I instance Shakspeare's Witches in Macbeth. 
 Those who dress them for the stage, consider them as wretched old women, 
 and not, as Shakspeare intended, the Goddesses of Destiny ; this shows 
 how Chaucer has been misunderstood in his sublime work. Shakspeare's 
 Fairies also are the rulers of the vegetable world, and so are Chaucer's ; 
 let them be so considered, and then the poet will be understood, and 
 not else. 
 
 But I have omitted to speak of a very prominent character, the Par- 
 doner, the Age's Knave, who always commands and domineers over the 
 high and low vulgar. This man is sent in every age for a rod and scourge 
 and for a blight, for a trial of men, to divide the classes of men ; he is in 
 the most holy sanctuary, and he is suffered by Providence for wise ends, 
 and has also his great use, and his grand leading destiny. 
 
 His companion the Sompnour is also a Devil of the first magnitude, 
 grand, terrific, rich, and honoured in the rank of which he holds the 
 
126 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 destiny. The uses to society are perhaps equal of the Devil and of 
 the Angel ; their sublimity who can dispute ? 
 
 ' In daunger had he at his owne gise, 
 The younge girles of his diocese, 
 And he knew well their counsel, &c.' 
 
 The principal figure in the next group is the Good Parson : an Apostle, 
 a real Messenger of Heaven, sent in every age for its light and its warmth. 
 This man is beloved and venerated by all, and neglected by all : he serves 
 all, and is served by none. He is, according to Christ's definition, the 
 greatest of his age : yet he is a Poor Parson of a town. Eead Chaucer's 
 description of the Good Parson, and bow the head and the knee to Him, 
 Who, in every age, sends us such a burning and a shining light. Search, 
 0 ye rich and powerful, for these men and obey their counsel ; then shall 
 the golden age return. But alas ! you will not easily distinguish him 
 from the Friar or the Pardoner; they also are 'full solemn men,' and 
 their counsel you will continue to follow. 
 
 I have placed by his side the Sergeant-at-Lawe, who appears delighted 
 to ride in his company, and between him and his brother the Ploughman ; 
 as I wish men of Law would always ride with them, and take their counsel, 
 especially in all difficult points. Chaucer's Lawyer is a character of great 
 venerableness, a Judge, and a real master of the jurisprudence of his age. 
 
 The Doctor of Physic is in this group, and the Franklin, the voluptuous 
 country gentleman ; contrasted with the Physician, and, on his other hand, 
 with two Citizens of London. Chaucer's characters live age after age. 
 Every age is a Canterbury Pilgrimage ; we all pass on, each sustaining one 
 or other of these characters ; nor can a child be born who is not one 
 of these characters of Chaucer. The Doctor of Physic is described as 
 the first of his profession : perfect, learned, completely Master and Doctor 
 in his art. Thus the reader will observe that Chaucer makes every one 
 of his characters perfect in his kind ; every one is an Antique Statue, 
 the image of a class, and not of an imperfect individual. 
 
 This group also would furnish substantial matter, on which volumes 
 might be written. The Franklin is one who keeps open table, who is 
 the genius of eating and drinking, the Bacchus ; as the Doctor of Physic 
 is the iEsculapius, the Host is the Silenus, the Squire is the Apollo, the 
 Miller is the Hercules, &c. Chaucer's characters are a description of the 
 eternal Principles that exist in all ages. The Franklin is voluptuousness 
 itself most nobly portrayed : 
 
 ' It snewed in his house of meat and drink.' 
 
DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE. 
 
 127 
 
 The Ploughman is simplicity itself, with wisdom and strength for its 
 stamina. Chaucer has divided the ancient character of Hercules between 
 his Miller and his Ploughman. Benevolence is the Ploughman's great 
 characteristic ; he is thin with excessive labour, and not with old age, as 
 some have supposed : 
 
 ' He woulde thresh, and thereto dike and delve, 
 For Christe's sake, for every poore wight, 
 Withouten hire, if it lay in his might. ' 
 
 Visions of these eternal principles or characters of human life appear to 
 poets in all ages ; the Grecian gods were the ancient Cherubim of Phoenicia ; 
 but the Greeks, and since them the Moderns, have neglected to subdue the 
 gods of Priam. These Gods are visions of the eternal attributes, or divine 
 names, which, when erected into gods, become destructive to humanity. 
 They ought to be the servants, and not the masters, of man or of society. 
 They ought to be made to sacrifice to Man, and not man compelled to 
 sacrifice to them ; for, when separated from man or humanity, who is Jesus 
 the Saviour, the vine of eternity 1 They are thieves and rebels, they are 
 destroyers. 
 
 The Ploughman of Chaucer is Hercules in his supreme eternal state, 
 divested of his spectrous shadow ; which is the Miller, a terrible fellow, such 
 as exists in all times and places, for the trial of men, to astonish every 
 neighbourhood with brutal strength and courage, to get rich and powerful, 
 to curb the pride of Man. 
 
 The Eeeve and the Manciple are two characters of the most consummate 
 worldly wisdom. The Shipman, or Sailor, is a similar genius of Ulyssean 
 art, but with the highest courage superadded. 
 
 The Citizens and their Cook are each leaders of a class. Chaucer has 
 been somehow made to number four citizens, which would make his whole 
 company, himself included, thirty-one. But he says there were but nine- 
 and-twenty in his company : 
 
 ' Full nine-and-twenty in a company. ' 
 
 The Webbe, or Weaver, and the Tapiser, or Tapestry Weaver, appear to 
 me to be the same person ; but this is only an opinion, for full nine-and- 
 twenty may signify one more or less. But I daresay that Chaucer wrote 
 ' A Webbe Dyer,' that is a Cloth Dyer : 
 
 'A Webbe Dyer and a Tapiser.' 
 
128 
 
 SELECTIONS FEOM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 The Merchant cannot be one of the Three Citizens, as his dress is 
 different, and his character is more marked, whereas Chaucer says of his 
 rich citizens : 
 
 'All were yclothed in o liverie.' 
 
 The characters of Women Chaucer has divided into two classes, the Lady 
 Prioress and the Wife of Bath. Are not these leaders of the ages of men 1 
 The Lady Prioress in some ages predominates, and in some the Wife of 
 Bath, in whose character Chaucer has been equally minute and exact; 
 because she is also a scourge and a blight. I shall say no more of her, 
 nor expose what Chaucer has left hidden ; let the young reader study what 
 he has said of her : it is useful as a scarecrow. There are of such characters 
 born too many for the peace of the world. 
 
 I come at length to the Clerk of Oxenford. This character varies from 
 that of Chaucer, as the contemplative philosopher varies from the poetical 
 genius. There are always these two classes of learned sages, the poetical 
 and the philosophical. The Painter has put them side by side, as if the 
 youthful clerk had put himself under the tuition of the mature poet. Let 
 the Philosopher always be the servant and scholar of Inspiration, and all 
 will be happy. 
 
 Such are the characters that compose this Picture, which was painted in 
 self-defence against the insolent and envious imputation of unfitness for 
 finished and scientific art, and this imputation most artfully and indus- 
 triously endeavoured to be propagated among the public by ignorant 
 hirelings. The Painter courts comparison with his competitors, who, 
 having received fourteen hundred guineas and more from the profits of 
 his designs in that well-known work, Designs for Blair's Grave, have left 
 him to shift for himself; while others, more obedient to an employer's 
 opinions and directions, are employed, at a great expense, to produce works 
 in succession to his by which they acquired public patronage. This has 
 hitherto been his lot — to get patronage for others and then to be left and 
 neglected, and his work, which gained that patronage, cried down as 
 eccentricity and madness — as unfinished and neglected by the artist's violent 
 temper : he is sure the works now exhibited will give the lie to such 
 aspersions. 
 
 Those who say that men are led by interest are knaves. A knavish 
 character will often say, Of what interest is it to me to do so and so 1 I 
 answer, of none at all, but the contrary, as you well know. It is of malice 
 and envy that you have done this ; hence I am aware of you, because 
 I know that you act not from interest but from malice, even to your 
 
DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE. 
 
 129 
 
 own destruction. It is therefore become a duty which Mr. B. owes to 
 the Public, who have always recognised him and patronized him, however 
 hidden by artifices, that he should not suffer such things to be done, or 
 be hindered from the public Exhibition of his finished productions by 
 any calumnies in future. 
 
 The character and expression in this Picture could never have been 
 produced with Rubens' light and shadow, or with Rembrandt's, or anything 
 Venetian or Flemish. The Venetian and Flemish practice is broken lines, 
 broken masses, and^ broken colours : Mr. B.'s practice is unbroken lines, 
 unbroken masses, and unbroken colours. Their art is to lose form; his 
 art is to find form, and to keep it. His arts are opposite to theirs 
 in all things. 
 
 As there is a class of men whose whole delight is in the destruction 
 of men, so there is a class of artists whose whole art and science is 
 fabricated for the purpose of destroying Art. Who these are is soon 
 known : 1 by their works ye shall know them.' All who endeavour 
 to raise up a style against Raphael, Michael Angelo, and the Antique ; those 
 who separate Painting from Drawing ; who look if a picture is well Drawn, 
 and, if it is, immediately cry out that it cannot be well Coloured — those 
 are the men. 
 
 But to show the stupidity of this class of men, nothing need be done 
 but to examine my rival's prospectus. 
 
 The two first characters in Chaucer, the Knight and the Squire, he 
 has put among his rabble ; and indeed his prospectus calls the Squire 
 i the fop of Chaucer's age.' Now hear Chaucer : 
 
 ' Of his Stature, he was of even length, 
 And wonderly deliver, and of great strength ; 
 And he had be sometime in Chivauchy, 
 In Flanders, in Artois, and in Picardy, 
 And borne him well as of so litele space.' 
 
 Was this a fop? 
 
 'Well could he sit a horse, and faire ride, 
 He could songs make, and eke well indite, 
 Joust, and eke dance, portray, and well write.' 
 
 Was this a fop ? 
 
 'Curteis he was, and meek, and serviceable; 
 And kerft before his fader at the table,' 
 
 Was this a fop 1 
 VOL. II. 
 
 K 
 
130 
 
 SELECTIONS EROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 It is the same with all his characters; he has done all by chance, 
 or perhaps his fortune, money, money. According to his prospectus he 
 has Three Monks ; these he cannot find in Chaucer, who has only One 
 Monk, and that no vulgar character, as he has endeavoured to make him. 
 When men cannot read, they should not pretend to paint. To be sure 
 Chaucer is a little difficult to him who has only blundered over novels 
 and catchpenny trifles of booksellers; yet a little pains ought to be 
 taken, even by the ignorant and weak. He has put the Keeve, a vulgar 
 fellow, between his Knight and Squire, as if he was resolved to go 
 contrary in everything to Chaucer, who says of the Eeeve — 
 
 ' And ever lie rode hinderest of the rout. ' 
 
 In this manner he has jumbled his dumb dollies together, and is 
 praised by his equals for it ; for both himself and his friend are equally 
 masters of Chaucer's language. They both think that the Wife of Bath 
 
 is a young beautiful blooming damsel ; and H says, that she is the 
 
 ' Fair Wife of Bath,' and that i the Spring appears in her cheeks.' Now 
 hear what Chaucer has made her say of herself, who is no modest one : 
 
 ' But Lord ! when it remembereth me 
 Upon my youth and on my jollity, 
 It tickleth me about the hearte root. 
 Unto this day it doth my hearte boot 
 That I have had my world as in my time ; 
 But age, alas, that all will envenime, 
 Hath me bireft, my beauty and my pith 
 Let go ; farewell ! the devil go therewith ! 
 The flour is gone, there is no more to tell : 
 The bran, as best I can, I now mote sell ; 
 And yet, to be right merry, will I fond 
 Now forth to telle of my fourth husbond. ' 
 
 She has had four husbands, a fit subject for this painter; yet the 
 
 painter ought to be very much offended with his friend H , who 
 
 has called his ' a common scene,' *. and very ordinary forms ; ' which 
 is the truest part of all, for it is so, and very wretchedly so indeed. 
 What merit can there be in a picture of which such words are spoken 
 with truth 1 ? 
 
 But the prospectus says that the Painter has represented Chaucer 
 himself as a knave who thrusts himself among honest people to make 
 game of and laugh at them ; though I must do justice to the Painter, 
 
• DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE. 
 
 131 
 
 and say that he has made him look more like a fool than a knave. But 
 it appears in all the writings of Chaucer, and particularly in his Canter- 
 bury Tales, that he was very devout, and paid respect to true enthusiastic 
 superstition. He has laughed at his knaves and fools as I do now. 
 But he has respected his True Pilgrims, who are a majority of his 
 company, and are not thrown together in the random manner that 
 
 Mr. S has done. Chaucer has nowhere called the Ploughman old, 
 
 worn out with ' age /and labour/ as the prospectus has represented him, 
 and says that the picture has done so too. He is worn down with labour, 
 but not with age. How spots of brown and yellow, smeared about at 
 random, can be either young or old, I cannot see. It may be an old man ; 
 it may be a young one ; it may be anything that a prospectus pleases. 
 But I know that where there are no lineaments there can be no character. 
 And what connoisseurs call touch, I know by experience, must be the 
 destruction of all character and expression, as it is of every lineament. 
 
 The scene of Mr. S 's Picture is by Dulwich Hills, which was 
 
 not the way to Canterbury ; but perhaps the Painter thought he would 
 give them a ride round about, because they were a burlesque set of scare- 
 crows, not worth any man's respect or care. 
 
 But the Painter's thoughts being always upon gold, he has introduced 
 a character that Chaucer has not — namely, a Goldsmith, for so the 
 prospectus tells us. Why he has introduced a Goldsmith, and what is 
 the wit of it, the prospectus does not explain. But it takes care to 
 mention the reserve and modesty of the Painter ; this makes a good 
 epigram enough : 
 
 ' The fox, the mole, the beetle, and the beat, 
 By sweet reserve and modesty get fat.' 
 
 But the prospectus tells us that the Painter has introduced a 'Sea 
 Captain • ' Chaucer has a Shipman, a Sailor, a Trading Master of a Vessel, 
 called by courtesy Captain, as every master of a boat is ; but this does not 
 make him a Sea Captain. Chaucer has purposely omitted such a personage, 
 as it only exists in certain periods : it is the soldier by sea. He who 
 would be a soldier in inland nations is a sea-captain in commercial nations. 
 
 All is misconceived, and its mis-execution is equal to its misconception. 
 I have no objection to Pubens and Eembrandt being employed, or even 
 to their living in a palace ; but it shall not be at the expense of Eaphael 
 and Michael Angelo living in a cottage, and in contempt and derision. 
 
 K 2 
 
132 
 
 SELECTIONS FKOM BLAKE'S WEITINGS. 
 
 I have been scorned long enough by these fellows, who owe to me all 
 that they have ; it shall be so no longer : 
 
 I found them blind, I taught them how to see ; 
 And now they know neither themselves nor me. 
 
 NUMBEK IV. 
 
 The Bard, from Gray. 
 
 On a rock, whose haughty brow 
 Frown'd o'er old Conway's foaming flood, 
 Eobed in the sable garb of woe, 
 With haggard eyes the Poet stood : 
 Loose his beard and hoary hair 
 Stream'd like a meteor to the troubled air. 
 
 Weave the warp, and weave the woof, 
 The winding-sheet of Edward's race. 
 
 Weaving the winding-sheet of Edward's race by means of sounds 
 of spiritual music, and its accompanying expressions of articulate speech, 
 is a bold, and daring, and most masterly conception, that the public have 
 embraced and approved with avidity. Poetry consists in these con- 
 ceptions ; and shall Painting be confined to the sordid drudgery of fac- 
 simile representations of merely mortal and perishing substances, and 
 not be, as poetry and music are, elevated into its own proper sphere of 
 invention and visionary conception 1 No, it shall not be so ! Painting, 
 as well as poetry and music, exists and exults in immortal thoughts. If 
 Mr. B.'s Canterbury Pilgrims had been done by any other power than 
 that of the poetic visionary, it would have been as dull as his ad- 
 versary's. 
 
 The Spirits of the murdered bards assist in weaving the deadly woof : 
 
 With me in dreadful harmony they join, 
 
 And weave, with bloody hands, the tissue of thy line. 
 
 The connoisseurs and artists who have made objections to Mr. B.'s 
 mode of representing spirits with real bodies would do well to consider 
 that the Venus, the Minerva, the Jupiter, the Apollo, which they admire 
 in Greek statues, are all of them representations of spiritual existences, 
 of Gods immortal, to the mortal perishing organ of sight ; and yet they 
 
DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE. 
 
 133 
 
 are embodied and organized in solid marble. Mr. B. requires the same 
 latitude, and all is well. The Prophets describe what they saw in Vision 
 as real and existing men whom they saw with their imaginative and 
 immortal organs ; the Apostles the same ; the clearer the organ the more 
 distinct the object. A Spirit and a Vision are not, as the modern phi- 
 losophy supposes, a cloudy vapour or a nothing : they are organized and 
 minutely articulated beyond all that the mortal and perishing nature can 
 produce. He who does not imagine in stronger and better lineaments, 
 and in stronger and better light, than his perishing mortal eye can see, 
 does not imagine at all. The painter of this work asserts that all his 
 imaginations appear to him infinitely more perfect and more minutely 
 organized than anything seen by his mortal eye. Spirits are organized 
 men : Moderns wish to draw figures without lines, and with great and 
 heavy shadows ; are not shadows more unmeaning than lines, and more 
 heavy % Oh, who can doubt this ! 
 
 King Edward and his Queen Eleanor are prostrated, with their horses, 
 at the foot of a rock on which the Bard stands ; prostrated by the terrors 
 of his harp, on the margin of the River Conway, whose waves bear up 
 a corse of a slaughtered bard at the foot of the rock. The armies of 
 Edward are seen winding among the mountains : 
 
 ' He wound with toilsome march his long array.' 
 
 Mortimer and Gloucester lie spell-bound behind their king. 
 
 The execution of this Picture is also in Water-colours, or Fresco, 
 
 NUMBER V. 
 
 The Ancient Britons. 
 
 In the last Battle of King Arthur only Three Britons escaped; these were the 
 Strongest Man, the Beautifullest Man, and the Ugliest Man : these three 
 marched through the field unsubdued, as Gods, and the Sun of Britain set, 
 but shall arise again with tenfold splendour wlien Arthur shall awake from 
 sleep, and resume his dominion over earth and ocean. 
 
 The three general classes of men who are represented by the most 
 Beautiful, the most Strong, and the most Ugly, could not be represented 
 by any historical facts but those of our own country, the Ancient 
 Britons, without violating costume. The Britons (say historians) were naked 
 
184 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 civilized men, learned, studious, abstruse in thought and contemplation ; 
 naked, simple, plain, in their acts and manners ; wiser than after-ages. 
 They were overwhelmed by brutal arms, all but a small remnant ; Strength, 
 Beauty, and Ugliness escaped the wreck, and remain for ever unsubdued, 
 age after age. 
 
 The British Antiquities are now in the Artist's hands ; all his visionary 
 contemplations relating to his own country and its ancient glory, when 
 it was, as it again shall be, the source of learning and inspiration — (Arthur 
 was a name for the Constellation Arcturus, or Bootes, the Keeper of the 
 ISTorth Pole) ; and all the fables of Arthur and his Bound Table ; of the 
 warlike naked Britons ; of Merlin ; of Arthur's conquest of the whole 
 world i of his death, or sleep, and promise to return again ; of the Druid 
 monuments, or temples ; of the pavement of Watling-street ; of London 
 stone ; of the caverns in Cornwall, Wales, Derbyshire, and Scotland ; 
 of the Giants of Ireland and Britain; of the elemental beings, called 
 by us by the general name of Fairies; and of these three who escaped, 
 namely, Beauty, Strength, and Ugliness. Mr. B. has in his hands poems 
 of the highest antiquity. Adam was a Druid, and Noah ; also Abraham 
 was called to succeed the Druidical age, which began to turn allegoric 
 and mental signification into corporeal command, whereby human sacrifice 
 would have depopulated the earth. All these things are written in Eden. 
 The Artist is an inhabitant of that happy country ; and if everything 
 goes on as it has begun, the world of vegetation and generation may 
 expect to be opened again to Heaven, through Eden, as it was in the 
 beginning. 
 
 The Strong Man represents the human sublime; the Beautiful Man 
 represents the human pathetic, which was in the wars of Eden divided 
 into male and female ; the Ugly Man represents the human reason. They 
 were originally one man, who was fourfold ; he was self-divided, and 
 his real humanity slain on the stems of generation, and the form of the 
 fourth was like the Son of God. How he became divided is a subject 
 of great sublimity and pathos. The Artist has written it under in- 
 spiration, and will, if God please, publish it; it is voluminous, and con- 
 tains the ancient history of Britain, and the world of Satan and of 
 Adam. 
 
 In the meantime he has painted this Picture, which supposes that in 
 the reign of that British Prince, who lived in the fifth century, there were 
 remains of those naked Heroes in the Welch Mountains ; they are there 
 now — Gray saw them in the person of his Bard on Snowdon ; there they 
 
DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE. 
 
 135 
 
 dwell in naked simplicity; happy is lie who can see and converse with 
 them above the shadows of generation and death. The Giant Albion was 
 Patriarch of the Atlantic ; he is the 1 Atlas of the Greeks, one of those 
 the Greeks called Titans, The stories of Arthur are the acts of Albion, 
 applied to a Prince of the fifth century, who conquered Europe, and held 
 the Empire of the world in the dark age, which the Eomans never again 
 recovered. In this Picture, believing with Milton the ancient British 
 History, Mr. B. has done as all the ancients did, and as all the moderns 
 who are worthy of fame — given the historical fact in its poetical vigour, 
 so as it always happens, and not in that dull way that some Historians 
 pretend, who, being weakly organized themselves, cannot see either miracle 
 or prodigy : all is to them a dull round of probabilities and possibilities ; 
 but the history of all times and places is nothing else but improbabilities 
 and impossibilities — what we should say was impossible if we did not 
 see it always before our eyes. 
 
 The antiquities of every Nation under Heaven are no less sacred than 
 those of the Jews. They are the same thing ; as Jacob Bryant and all 
 antiquaries have proved. How other antiquities came to be neglected and 
 disbelieved, while those of the Jews are collected and arranged, is an 
 inquiry worthy of both the Antiquarian and the Divine. All had origi- 
 nally one language, and one religion ; this was the religion of Jesus, the 
 everlasting Gospel. Antiquity preaches the Gospel of Jesus. The reason- 
 ing historian, turner and twister of causes and consequences — such as Hume, 
 Gibbon, and Voltaire — cannot, with all his artifice, turn or twist one 
 fact or disarrange self-evident action and reality. Keasons and opinions 
 concerning acts are not history ; acts themselves alone are history, and 
 these are not the exclusive property of either Hume, Gibbon, or Voltaire, 
 Echard, Eapin, Plutarch, or Herodotus. Tell me the Acts, 0 historian, 
 and leave me to reason upon them as I please ; away with your reasoning 
 and your rubbish ! All that is not action is not worth reading. Tell me 
 the What ; I do not want you to tell me the Why, and the How ; I can 
 find that out myself, as well as you can, and I will not be fooled by 
 you into opinions, that you please to impose, to disbelieve what you think 
 improbable or impossible. His opinion who does not see spiritual agency 
 is not worth any man's reading ; he who rejects a fact because it is im- 
 probable must reject all History, and retain doubts only. 
 
 It has been said to the Artist, Take the Apollo for the model of your 
 Beautiful Man, and the Hercules for your Strong Man, and the Dancing 
 Faun for your Ugly Man. Now he comes to his trial. He knows that 
 
136 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 what lie does is not inferior to the grandest Antiques. Superior it 
 cannot be, for human power cannot go beyond either what he does, or 
 what they have done ; it is the gift of God, it is inspiration and vision. 
 He had resolved to emulate those precious remains of antiquity ; he has 
 done so, and the result you behold ; his ideas of strength and beauty have 
 not been greatly different. Poetry as it exists now on earth, in the various 
 remains of ancient authors, Music as it exists in old tunes or melodies, 
 Painting and Sculpture as they exist in the remains of Antiquity and in the 
 works of more modern genius — each is Inspiration, and cannot be surpassed ; 
 it is perfect and eternal. Milton, Shakspeare, Michael Angelo, Eaphael, the 
 finest specimens of Ancient Sculpture and Painting and Architecture, 
 Gothic, Grecian, Hindoo, and Egyptian, are the extent of the human mind. 
 The human mind cannot go beyond the gift of God, the Holy Ghost. To 
 suppose that Art can go beyond the finest specimens of Art that are 
 now in the world is not knowing what Art is ; it is being blind to the 
 gifts of the Spirit. 
 
 It will be necessary for the Painter to say something concerning his 
 ideas of Beauty, Strength, and Ugliness. 
 
 The Beauty that is annexed and appended to folly, is a lamentable 
 accident and error of the mortal and perishing life ; it does but seldom 
 happen ; but with this unnatural mixture the sublime Artist can have 
 nothing to do ; it is fit for the burlesque. The Beauty proper for sublime 
 art is lineaments, or forms and features, that are capable of being the 
 receptacles of intellect ; accordingly the Painter has given, in his Beautiful 
 Man, his own idea of intellectual Beauty. The face and limbs that deviate 
 or alter least, from infancy to old age, are the face and limbs of greatest 
 Beauty and perfection. 
 
 The Ugly likewise, when accompanied and annexed to imbecility and 
 disease, is a subject for burlesque and not for historical grandeur ; the 
 Artist has imagined his Ugly Man; — one approaching to the beast in features 
 and form, his forehead small without frontals, his jaws large, his nose 
 high on the ridge, and narrow, his chest and the stamina of his make 
 comparatively little, and his joints and his extremities large ; his eyes 
 with scarce any whites, narrow and cunning, and everything tending 
 toward what is truly Ugly — the incapability of intellect. 
 
 The Artist has considered his Strong Man as a receptacle of Wisdom, 
 a sublime energizer ; his features and limbs do not spindle out into length 
 without strength, nor are they too large and unwieldy for his brain and 
 
DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE. 
 
 bosom. Strength consists in accumulation of power to the principal seat, 
 and from thence a regular gradation and subordination; strength is com- 
 pactness, not extent nor bulk. 
 
 The Strong Man acts from conscious superiority, and marches on in 
 fearless dependence on the divine decrees, raging with the inspirations 
 of a prophetic mind. The Beautiful Man acts from duty, and anxious 
 solicitude for the fates of those for whom he combats. The Ugly Man 
 acts from love of carnage, and delight in the savage barbarities of war, 
 rushing with sportive precipitation into the very teeth of the affrighted 
 enemy. 
 
 The Eoman Soldiers, rolled together in a heap before them, 'like 
 the rolling thing before the whirlwind,' show each a different character, 
 and a different expression of fear, or revenge, or envy, or blank horror 
 or amazement, or devout wonder and unresisting awe. 
 
 The dead and the dying, Britons naked, mingled with armed Bomans, 
 strew the field beneath. Among these, the last of the Bards who was 
 capable of attending warlike deeds is seen falling, outstretched among 
 the dead and the dying, singing to his harp in the pains of death. 
 
 Distant among the mountains are Druid Temples, similar to Stone- 
 henge. The Sun sets behind the mountains, bloody with the day of battle. 
 
 The flush of health in flesh, exposed to the open air, nourished by 
 the spirits of forests and floods, in that ancient happy period which 
 history has recorded, cannot be like the sickly daubs of Titian or Bubens. 
 Where will the copier of nature, as it now is, find a civilized man who 
 has been accustomed to go naked? Imagination only can furnish us 
 with colouring appropriate, such as is found in the Frescoes of Baphael 
 and Michael Angelo : the disposition of forms always directs colouring 
 in works of true art. As to a modern Man stripped from his load of 
 lothing, he is like a dead corpse. Hence Bubens, Titian, Correggio, 
 and all of that class, are like leather and chalk ; their men are like leather 
 and their women like chalk, for the disposition of their forms will not 
 admit of grand colouring ; in Mr. B.'s Britons, the blood is seen to 
 circulate in their limbs ; he defies competition in colouring. 
 
138 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 NUMBER VI. 
 
 ' A Spirit vaulting from a Cloud to turn and wind a fiery Pegasus ' — Shak- 
 speare. The Horse of Intellect is leaping from the Cliffs of Memory and 
 Reasoning; it is a barren Rock; it is also called the Barren Waste of 
 Locke and Newton. 
 
 This Picture was done many years ago, and was one of the first Mr. B. 
 ever did in Fresco ; fortunately, or rather providentially, he left it unblotted 
 and unblurred, although molested continually by blotting and blurring 
 demons ; but he was also compelled to leave it unfinished for reasons that 
 will be shown in the following. 
 
 NUMBER VII. 
 
 The Goats, an experiment Picture. 
 
 The subject is taken from the Missionary Voyage, and varied from the 
 literal fact for the sake of picturesque scenery. The savage girls had 
 dressed themselves with vine-leaves, and some goats on board the missionary 
 ship stripped them off presently. This Picture was painted at intervals, 
 for experiment with the colours, and is laboured to a superabundant 
 blackness ; it has however that about it which may be worthy the attention 
 of the Artist and Connoisseur for reasons that follow. 
 
 NUMBER VIII. 
 
 1 he spiritual Preceptor, an experiment Picture. 
 
 This subject is taken from the Visions of Emanuel Swedenborg (Universal 
 Theology, No. 623). The Learned, who strive to ascend into Heaven by 
 means of learning, appear to Children like dead horses, when repelled by 
 the celestial spheres. The works of this visionary are well worthy the 
 attention of Painters and Poets ; they are foundations for grand things ; 
 the reason they have not been more attended to is, because corporeal 
 demons have gained a predominance ; who the leaders of these are, will 
 be shown below. Unworthy Men, who gain fame among Men, continue 
 to govern mankind after death, and, in their spiritual bodies, oppose the 
 
DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE. 
 
 139 
 
 spirits of those who worthily are famous ; and, as Swedenborg observes, 
 by entering into disease and excrement, drunkenness and concupiscence, 
 they possess themselves of the bodies of mortal men, and shut the doors 
 of mind and of thought, by placing Learning above Inspiration. 0 Artist ! 
 you may disbelieve all this, but it shall be at your own peril. 
 
 NUMBEK TX. 
 
 Satan calling up his Legions, from Milton's Paradise Lost ; a composition 
 for a more perfect Picture, afterward executed for a Lady of high rank. 
 An experiment Picture. 
 
 This Picture was likewise painted at intervals, for experiment on colours, 
 without any oily vehicle ; it may be worthy of attention, not only on 
 account of its composition, but of the great labour which has been bestowed 
 on it, that is, three or four times as much as would have finished a more 
 perfect Picture. The labour has destroyed the lineaments : it was with 
 difficulty brought back again to a certain effect, which it had at first, 
 when all the lineaments were perfect. 
 
 These Pictures, among numerous others painted for experiment, were 
 the result of temptations and perturbations, labouring to destroy Imagina- 
 tive power, by means of that infernal machine, called Chiaro Oscuro, in the 
 hands of Venetian and Flemish Demons ; whose enmity to the Painter 
 himself, and to all Artists who study in the Florentine and Eoman Schools, 
 may be removed by an exhibition and exposure of their vile tricks. They 
 cause that everything in art shall become a Machine. They cause that the 
 execution shall be all blocked up with brown shadows. They put the 
 original Artist in fear and doubt of his own original conception. The 
 spirit of Titian was particularly active in raising doubts concerning the 
 possibility of executing without a model ; and, when once he had raised 
 the doubt, it became easy for him to snatch away the vision time after 
 time; for when the Artist took his pencil, to execute his ideas, his power 
 of imagination weakened so much, and darkened, that memory of nature 
 and of Pictures of the various Schools possessed his mind, instead of 
 appropriate execution, resulting from the inventions ; like walking in 
 another man's style, or speaking or looking in another man's style and 
 manner, unappropriate and repugnant to your own individual character ; 
 tormenting the true Artist, till he leaves the Florentine, and adopts the 
 
140 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 Venetian practice, or does as Mr. B. has done — has the courage to 
 suffer poverty and disgrace, till he ultimately conquers. 
 
 Rubens is a most outrageous demon, and by infusing the remembrances 
 of his Pictures, and style of execution, hinders all power of individual 
 thought : so that the man who is possessed by this demon loses all 
 admiration of any other Artist but Eubens, and those who were his 
 imitators and journeymen. He causes to the Florentine and Eoman Artist 
 ■ fear to execute ; and, though the original conception was all fire and 
 animation, he loads it with hellish brownness, and blocks up all its 
 gates of light, except one, and that one he closes with iron bars, till 
 the victim is obliged to give up the Florentine and Roman practice, and 
 adopt the Venetian and Flemish. 
 
 Correggio is a soft and effeminate and consequently a most cruel demon, 
 whose whole delight is to cause endless labour to whoever suffers him 
 to enter his mind. The story that is told in all Lives of the Painters, 
 about Correggio being poor and but badly paid for his Pictures, is altogether 
 false ; he was a petty Prince, in Italy, and employed numerous Journeymen 
 in manufacturing (as Rubens and Titian did) the Pictures that go under 
 his name. The manual labour in these Pictures of Correggio is immense, 
 and was paid for originally at the immense prices that those who keep 
 manufactories of art always charge to their employers, while they them- 
 selves pay their journeymen little enough. But, though Correggio was 
 not poor, he will make any true artist so, who permits him to enter 
 his mind, and take possession of his affections ; he infuses a love of soft 
 and even tints without boundaries, and of endless reflected lights, that 
 confuse one another, and hinder all correct drawing from appearing to 
 be correct ; for if one of Raphael's or Michael Angelo's figures was to be 
 traced, and Correggio's reflections and refractions to be added to it, there 
 would soon be an end of proportion and strength, and it would be weak, 
 and pappy, and lumbering, and thick-headed, like his own works ; but 
 then it would have softness and evenness, by a twelvemonth's labour, 
 where a month would with judgment have finished it better and higher ; 
 and the poor wretch who executed it would be the Correggio that the 
 life-writers have written of — a drudge and a miserable man, compelled 
 to softness by poverty. I say again, 0 Artist ! you may disbelieve all 
 this, but it shall be at your own peril. 
 
 Note. — These experiment Pictures have been bruised and knocked 
 about, without mercy, to try all experiments. 
 
DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE, 
 
 141 
 
 NUMBER X. 
 
 The Bramins. — A Drawing. 
 
 The subject is, Mr. Wilkin translating the Geeta; an ideal design, suggested 
 by the first publication of that part of the Hindoo Scriptures, translated 
 by Mr. Wilkin. I understand that my Costume is incorrect ; but in this I 
 plead the authority of the ancients, who often deviated from the Habits, 
 to preserve the Manners, as in the instance of Laocoon, who, though a priest, 
 is represented naked. 
 
 NUMBER XL 
 
 The Body of Abel found by Adam and Eve; Cain, who was about to bury 
 it, fleeing from the face of his Parents. — A Drawing. 
 
 NUMBER XII. 
 The Soldiers casting Lots for Christ s Garment. — A Drawing. 
 
 NUMBER XIII. 
 Jacob's Ladder. — A Drawing. 
 
 NUMBER XIV. 
 
 The Angels hovering over the Body of Jesus in the Sepulchre. — A Draiving. 
 
 The above four drawings the Artist wishes were in Eresco, on an enlarged 
 scale, to ornament the altars of churches, and to make England, like Italy, 
 respected by respectable men of other countries on account of Art. It 
 is not the want of genius that can hereafter be laid to our charge ; the 
 Artist who has done these Pictures and Drawings will take care of that ; 
 let those who govern the Nation take care of the other. The times require 
 that every one should speak out boldly ; England expects that every man 
 should do his duty, in Arts, as well as in Arms or in the Senate. 
 
142 
 
 SELECTIONS FKOM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 NUMBER XV. 
 
 Ruth. — A Drawing. 
 
 This Design is taken from that most pathetic passage in the Book of Ruth, 
 where, Naomi having taken leave of her daughters-in-law, with intent 
 to return to her own country, Ruth cannot leave her, but says, ' Whither 
 thou goest, I will go ; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge : thy people 
 shall be my people, and thy God my God : where thou diest, will I die, 
 and there will I be buried : God do so to me, and more also, if aught 
 but death part thee and me.' 
 
 The distinction that is made in modern times between a Painting and 
 a Drawing proceeds from ignorance of art. The merit of a Picture is the 
 same as the merit of a Drawing. The dauber daubs his Drawings ; he who 
 draws his Drawings draws his Pictures. There is no difference between 
 Raphael's Cartoons and his Frescoes, or Pictures, except that the Frescoes, 
 or Pictures, are more finished. When Mr. B. formerly painted in oil 
 colours, his Pictures were shown to certain painters and connoisseurs, who 
 said that they were very admirable Drawings on canvas, but not Pictures"; 
 but they said the same of Raphael's Pictures. Mr. B. thought this the greatest 
 of compliments, though it was meant otherwise. If losing and obliterating 
 the outline constitutes a Picture, Mr. B. will never be so foolish as to do 
 one. Such art of losing the outlines is the art of Venice and Flanders ; 
 it loses all character, and leaves what some people call expression : but 
 this is a false notion of expression; expression cannot exist without character 
 as its stamina; and neither character nor expression can exist without 
 firm and determinate outline. Fresco Painting is susceptible of higher 
 finishing than Drawing on Paper, or than any other method of Painting. 
 But he must have a strange organization of sight who does not prefer a 
 Drawing on Paper to a Daubing in Oil by the same master, supposing 
 both to be done with equal care. 
 
 The great and golden rule of art, as well as of life, is this : That 
 the more distinct, sharp, and wiry the bounding line, the more perfect 
 the work of art ; and the less keen and sharp, the greater is the evidence 
 of weak imitation, plagiarism, and bungling. Great inventors, in all ages, 
 knew this : Protogenes and Apelles knew each other by this line. Raphael 
 and Michael Angelo, and Albert Diirer, are known by this and this alone. 
 The want of this determinate and bounding form evidences the idea of 
 want in the artist's mind, and the pretence of the plagiary in all its branches. 
 
DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE. 
 
 143 
 
 How do we distinguish, the oak from the beech, the horse from the ox, 
 but by the bounding outline? How do we distinguish, one face or 
 countenance from another, but by the bounding line and its infinite 
 inflexions and movements'? What is it that builds a house and plants 
 a garden, but the definite and determinate? What is it that distinguishes 
 honesty from knavery, but the hard and wiry line of rectitude and certainty 
 in the actions and intentions? Leave out this line and you leave out 
 life itself ; all is chaos again, and the line of the Almighty must be drawn 
 out upon it before man or beast can exist. Talk no more then of Correggio 
 or Rembrandt, or any other of those plagiaries of Venice or Flanders. They 
 were but the lame imitators of lines drawn by their predecessors, and their 
 works prove themselves contemptible disarranged imitations, and blun- 
 dering misapplied copies. 
 
 I 
 
 NUMBER XVI. 
 
 The Penance of Jane Shore in Saint PauVs Church. — A Draiving. 
 
 This Drawing was done above Thirty Years ago, and proves to the Author, 
 and he thinks will prove to any discerning eye, that the productions of 
 our youth and of our maturer age are equal in all essential points. If 
 a man is master of his profession, he cannot be ignorant that he is so ; 
 and, if he is not employed by those who pretend to encourage art, he will 
 employ himself, and laugh, in secret at the pretences of tbe ignorant, while 
 he has every night dropped into his shoe — as soon as he puts it off, and 
 puts out the candle, and gets into bed — a reward for the labours of the 
 day, such, as the world cannot give ; and patience and time await to give 
 him all that the world can give. 
 
PUBLIC ADDRESS 
 
 Intended to accompany Blake s Engraving of the Canterbury 
 Pilgrimage. 
 
 The originality of this production makes it necessary to say a few 
 words. 
 
 In this plate Mr. Blake has resumed the style with which he 
 set out in life, of which Heath and Stothard were the awkward 
 imitators at that time. It is the style of Albert Durer and the 
 old engravers, which cannot be imitated by any one who does 
 not understand drawing, and which, according to Heath, and 
 Stothard, Flaxman, and even Eomney, spoils an engraver ; for each 
 of these men has repeatedly asserted this absurdity to me, in con- 
 demnation of my work, and approbation of Heath's lame imitation ; 
 Stothard being such a fool as to suppose that his blundering blurs 
 can be made out and delineated by any engraver who knows how 
 to cut dots and lozenges, equally well with those little prints which 
 I engraved after him four-and-twenty years ago, and by which he 
 got his reputation as a draughtsman. 
 
 If men of weak capacities have alone the power of execution in 
 art, Mr. Blake has now put to the test. If to invent and to draw 
 well hinders the executive power in art, and his strokes are still to 
 be condemned because they are unlike those of artists who are 
 unacquainted with drawing, is now to be decided by the public. 
 Mi. Blake's inventive powers, and his scientific knowledge of draw- 
 ing, are on all hands acknowledged ; it only remains to be certified 
 whether physiognomic strength and power are to give place to 
 imbecility. In a work of art it is not fine tints that are required, 
 
PUBLIC ADDRESS. 145 
 
 but fine forms ; fine tints without fine forms are always the sub- 
 terfuge of the blockhead. 
 
 I account it a public duty respectfully to address myself to the 
 Chalcographic Society, and to express to them my opinion, (the 
 result of the expert practice and experience of many years) that 
 engraving as an art is lost to England, owing to an artfully propa- 
 gated opinion that drawing spoils an engraver. I request the 
 Society to inspect my print, of which drawing is the foundation, and 
 indeed the superstructure : it is drawing on copper, as painting ought 
 to be drawing on canvas or any other surface, and nothing else. I 
 request likewise that the Society will compare the prints of Barto- 
 lozzi, Woolett, Strange, &c, with the old English portraits, that is, 
 compare the modern art with the art as it existed previous to the 
 entrance of Vandyck and Eubens into the country, since which event 
 engraving is lost ; and I am sure the result of the comparison will 
 be that the Society must be of my opinion, that engraving, by losing 
 drawing, has lost all character and all expression, without which the 
 art is lost. 
 
 There is not, because there cannot be, any difference of effect 
 in the pictures of Eubens and Eembrandt : when you have seen 
 one of their pictures, you have seen all. It is not so with Eaphael, 
 Giulio Eomano, Albert Durer, Michael Angelo ; every picture of 
 theirs has a different and appropriate effect. What man of sense 
 will lay out his money upon the life's labours of imbecility and 
 imbecility's journeymen, or think to educate a fool how to build 
 a universe with farthing balls ? The contemptible idiots who have 
 been called great men of late years ought to rouse the public 
 indignation of men of sense in all professions. Yet I do not shrink 
 from the comparison in either relief .. or strength of colour with 
 either Eembrandt or Eubens ; on the contrary, I court the comparison, 
 and fear not the result,— but not in a dark corner. Their effects 
 are in every picture the same ; mine are in every picture different. 
 
 VOL. II. L 
 
146 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 That vulgar epigram in art, Eembrandt's 'Hundred Guelders,' has 
 entirely put an end to all genuine and appropriate effect : all, both 
 morning and night, is now a dark cavern ; it is the fashion. 
 
 I hope my countrymen will excuse me if I tell them a whole- 
 some truth. Most Englishmen, when they look at pictures, im- 
 mediately set about searching for points of light, and clap the 
 picture into a dark corner. This, when done by grand works, is 
 like looking for epigrams in Homer. A point of light is a 
 witticism : many are destructive of all art ; one is an epigram only, 
 and no good work can have them. Eaphael, Michael Angelo, Albert 
 Diirer, Giulio Eomano, are accounted ignorant of that epigram- 
 matic wit in art, because they avoid it as a destructive machine, 
 as it is. 
 
 Mr. Blake repeats that there is not one character or expression 
 in this print which could be produced with the execution of Titian, 
 Eubens, Correggio, Eembrandt, or any of that class. Character and 
 expression can only be expressed by those who feel them. Even 
 Hogarth's execution cannot be copied or improved. Gentlemen of 
 fortune, who give great prices for pictures, should consider the fol- 
 lowing : When you view a collection of pictures, painted since 
 Venetian art was the fashion, or go into a modern exhibition, with 
 a very few exceptions every picture has the same effect — a piece 
 of machinery of points of light to be put into a dark hole. 
 
 Eubens's 'Luxembourg Gallery' is confessed on all hands to be 
 the work of a blockhead ; it bears this evidence in its face. How 
 can its execution be any other than the work of a blockhead? 
 Bloated gods, Mercury, Juno, Venus, and the rattletraps of mytho- 
 logy, and the lumber of an awkward French palace, are thrown 
 together around clumsy and rickety princes and princesses, higgledy- 
 piggledy. On the contrary, Giulio Eomano's ' Palace of T. at Mantua ' 
 is allowed on all hands to be the production of a man of the 
 most profound sense and genius ; and yet his execution is pro- 
 
PUBLIC ADDRESS. 
 
 147 
 
 nounced by English connoisseurs (and Beynolds their doll) to be 
 unfit for the study of the painter. Can I speak with too great 
 contempt of such contemptible fellows ? If all the princes in Europe, 
 like Louis XIY. and Charles I., were to patronize such blockheads, 
 I, William Blake, a mental prince, would decollate and hang their 
 souls as guilty of mental high-treason. He who could represent 
 Christ uniformly like a drayman must have queer conceptions — 
 consequently his execution must have been as queer : and those 
 must be queer fellows who give great sums for such nonsense, 
 and think it fine art. Who that has eyes cannot see that Eubens 
 and Correggio must have been very weak and vulgar fellows ? 
 And we are to imitate their execution ! This is like what Sir 
 Erancis Bacon says : that a healthy child should be taught and 
 compelled to walk like a cripple, while the cripple must be taught 
 to walk like healthy people. Oh rare wisdom ! 
 
 The wretched state of the arts in this country and in Europe, 
 originating in the wretched state of political science (which is the 
 science of sciences), demands a firm and determinate conduct on 
 the part of artists, to resist the contemptible counter-arts, established 
 by such contemptible politicians as Louis XIV., and originally set 
 on foot by Venetian picture-traders, music-traders, and rhyme-traders, 
 to the destruction of all true art, as it is this day. To recover 
 art has been the business of my life to the Elorentine original, and 
 if possible, to go beyond that original : this I thought the only pur- 
 suit worthy of a man. To imitate I abhor : I obstinately adhere to 
 the true style of art, such as Michael Angelo, Baphael, Giulio 
 Komano, Albert Diirer, left it. I demand therefore of the amateurs 
 of art the encouragement which is my due ; if they continue to refuse, 
 theirs is the loss, not mine, and theirs is the contempt of posterity. 
 I have enough in the approbation of fellow-labourers : this is my 
 glory and exceeding great reward. I go on and nothing can hinder 
 my course. 
 
 L 2 
 
148 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 While the works of Pope and Dryden are looked upon as the 
 same art with those of Shakespeare and Milton, while the works of 
 Strange and Woolett are looked upon as the same art with those of 
 Eaphael and Albert Diirer, there can be no art in a nation but such 
 as is subservient to the interest of the monopolising trader. English- 
 men ! rouse yourselves from the fatal slumber into which booksellers 
 and trading dealers have thrown you, under the artfully propagated 
 pretence that a translation or a copy of any kind can be as honourable 
 to a nation as an original, belieing the English character in that 
 well-known saying, Englishmen improve what others invent. This 
 even Hogarth's works prove a detestable falsehood. No man can 
 improve an original invention, nor can an original invention exist 
 without execution organised, delineated, and articulated either by God 
 or man : I do not mean smoothed up and niggled and poco-pen'd, 
 and all the beauties paled out, blurred, and blotted ; but drawn 
 with a firm and decided hand at once, like Michael Angelo, Shake- 
 speare and Milton. I have heard many people say : ' Give me the 
 ideas — -it is no matter what words you put them into ; ' and others 
 say : ' Give me the design, it is no matter for the execution.' These 
 people knew enough of artifice, but nothing of art. Ideas cannot be 
 given but in their minutely appropriate words, nor can a design be 
 made without its minutely appropriate execution. The unorganized 
 blots and blurs of Eubens and Titian are not art, nor can their 
 method ever express ideas or imaginations, any more than Pope's 
 metaphysical jargon of rhyming. Unappropriate execution is the 
 most nauseous of all affectation and foppery. He who copies does not 
 execute- — he only imitates what is already executed. Execution is 
 only the result of invention. 
 
 I do not condemn Eubens, Eembrandt, or Titian, because they 
 did not understand drawing, but because they did not understand 
 colouring ; how long shall I~ be; forced to beat this into men's ears? 
 I do not condemn Strange or Woolett because they did not understand 
 
PUBLIC ADDRESS. 
 
 149 
 
 drawing, but because they did not understand engraving. I do not 
 condemn Pope or Dryden because they did not understand imagi- 
 nation, but because they did not understand verse. Their colouring, 
 graving, and verse, can never be applied to art : that is not either 
 colouring, graving, or verse, which is unappropriate to the subject. 
 He who makes a design must know the effect and colouring proper 
 to be put to that design, and will never take that of Eubens, 
 Eembrandt, or Titian, to turn that which is soul and life into a mill 
 or 1 machine. 
 
 They say, there is no straight line in nature. This is a lie, 
 like all that they say, for there is every line in nature. But I 
 will tell them what there is not in nature. An even tint is not 
 in nature — it produces heaviness. Nature's shadows are ever vary- 
 ing, and a ruled sky that is quite even never can produce a 
 natural sky. The same with every object in a picture — its spots 
 are its beauties. Now, gentlemen critics, how do you like this ? 
 You may rage ; but what I say I will prove by such practice (and 
 have already done so) that you will rage to your own destruction. 
 Woolett I knew very intimately by his intimacy with Basire, and I 
 knew him to be one of the most ignorant fellows that I ever knew. 
 A machine is not a man nor a work of art ; it is destructive of 
 humanity and of art. Woolett, I know, did not know how to grind 
 his graver ; I know this. He has often proved his ignorance before 
 me at Basire' s, by laughing at Basire's knife-tools, and ridiculing the 
 forms of Basire's other gravers, till Basire was quite dashed and out 
 of conceit with what he himself knew. But his impudence had a 
 contrary effect on me. 
 
 A certain portrait-painter said to me in a boasting way : ' Since 
 I have practised painting, I have lost all idea of drawing.' Such 
 a man must know that I looked upon him with contempt. He 
 did not care for this any more than West did, who hesitated and 
 equivocated with me upon the same subject, at which time he 
 
150 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 asserted that Woolett's prints were superior to Basire's, because they 
 had more labour and care. Now this is contrary to the truth. 
 Woolett did not know how to put so much labour into a head or 
 a foot as Basire did ; he did not know how to draw the leaf of a 
 tree. All his study was clean strokes and mossy tints ; how then 
 should he be able to make use of either labour or care, unless the 
 labour and care of imbecility ? The life's labour of mental weakness 
 scarcely equals one hour of the labour of ordinary capacity, like the 
 full gallop of the gouty man to the ordinary walk of youth and health. 
 I allow that there is such a thing as high-finished ignorance, as there 
 may be a fool or a knave in an embroidered coat ; but I say that the 
 embroidery of the ignorant finisher is not like a coat made by another, 
 but is an emanation from ignorance itself, and its finishing is like its 
 master — the life's labour of five hundred idiots, for he never does the 
 work himself. 
 
 What is called the English style of engraving, such as it pro- 
 ceeded from the toilets of Woolett and Strange (for their's were 
 Fribble's toilets) can never produce character and expression. I knew 
 the men intimately from their intimacy with Basire, my master, and 
 knew them both to be heavy lumps of cunning and ignorance, as 
 their works show to all the Continent, who laugh at the contemptible 
 pretences of Englishmen to improve art before they even know the 
 first beginnings of art. I hope this print will redeem my country 
 from this coxcomb situation, and show that it is only some English- 
 men, and not all, who are thus ridiculous in their pretences. Adver- 
 tisements in newspapers are no proofs of popular approbation, but 
 often the contrary. A man who pretends to improve fine art 
 does not know what fine art is. Ye English engravers must come 
 down from your high flights ; ye must condescend to study Marc 
 Antonio and Albert Diirer ; ye must begin before you attempt to 
 finish or improve : and when you have begun, you will know better 
 than to think of improving what cannot be improved. It is very 
 
PUBLIC ADDEESS. 
 
 151 
 
 true what you have said for these thirty-two years : I am mad, 
 or else you are so. Both of us cannot be in our right senses. 
 Posterity will judge by our works. Woolett's and. Strange' s works 
 are like those of Titian and Correggio, the life's labour of ignorant 
 journeymen, suited to the purposes of commerce, no doubt, for 
 commerce cannot endure individual merit ; its insatiable maw must 
 be fed by what all can do equally well ; at least it is so in 
 England, as I have found to my cost these forty years. Commerce 
 is so far from being beneficial to arts or to empires that it is 
 destructive of both, as all their history shows, for the above reason 
 of individual merit being its great hatred. Empires flourish till 
 they become commercial, and then they are scattered abroad to the 
 four winds. 
 
 Woolett's best works were etched by Jack Browne ; Woolett 
 etched very ill. himself. 'The Cottagers/ and 'Jocund Peasants,' 
 the 'Views in Kew Garden,' ' Foot's-Cray,' and 'Diana and Actseon,' 
 and, in short, all that are called Woolett's, were etched by Jack 
 Browne ; and in Woolett's works the etching is all, though even in 
 these a single leaf of a tree is never correct Strange's prints were, 
 when I knew him, all done by Aliamet and his French journeymen, 
 whose names I forget. I also knew something of John Cooke, who 
 engraved after Hogarth. Cooke wished to give Hogarth what he 
 could take from Eaphael, that is, outline, and mass^ and colour ; but 
 he could not. Such prints as Woolett and Strange produce will do 
 for those who choose to purchase the life's labour of ignorance and 
 imbecility in preference to the inspired monuments of genius and 
 inspiration. 
 
 In this manner the English public have been imposed upon for 
 many years, under the impression that engraving and painting are 
 somewhat else besides drawing. Painting is drawing on canvas, and 
 engraving is drawing on copper, and nothing else ; and he who 
 pretends to be either painter or engraver without being a master of 
 
152 
 
 SELECTIONS FKOM BLAKE'S WKITINGS. 
 
 drawing is an impostor. We may be clever as pugilists, but as 
 artists, we are, and have long been, the contempt of the continent. 
 Gravelot once said to my master Basire : 1 De English may be very 
 clever in deir own opinions, but dey do not draw de draw.' 
 
 "Whoever looks at any of the great and expensive works of en- 
 graving that have been published by English traders must feel a 
 loathing and disgust ; and accordingly most Englishmen have a 
 contempt for art, which is the greatest curse that can fall upon a 
 uation. 
 
 The modern chalcographic connoisseurs and amateurs admire 
 only the work of the journeyman picking out of whites and blacks 
 in what are called tints. They despise drawing, which despises 
 them in return. They see only whether everything is toned 
 down but one spot of light. Mr. Blake submits to a more severe 
 tribunal : he invites the admirers of old English portraits to look at 
 his print. 
 
 An example of these contrary arts is given us in the characters 
 of Milton and Dryden, as they are written in a poem signed with the 
 name of Nat Lee, which perhaps he never wrote and perhaps he 
 wrote in a paroxysm of insanity ; in which it is said that Milton's 
 poem is a rough unfinished piece, and that Dryden has finished it. 
 Now let Dry den's Fall and Milton's Paradise be read, and I will 
 assert that everybody of understanding must cry out shame on such 
 niggling and poco-pen as Dryden has degraded Milton with. But at 
 the same time I will allow that stupidity will prefer Dryden, because 
 it is in rhyme and monotonous sing-song sing-song from beginning to 
 end. Such are Bartolozzi, Woolett, and Strange. 
 
 Men think that they can copy nature as correctly as I copy 
 imagination. This they will find impossible : and all the copies, 
 or pretended copies, of nature, from Bembrandt to Reynolds, prove 
 that nature becomes to its victim nothing but blots and blurs. 
 Why are copies of nature incorrect, while copies of imagination 
 
PUBLIC ADDRESS. 
 
 153 
 
 are correct ? This is manifest to all. The English artist may be 
 assured that he is doing an injury and injustice to his country 
 while he studies and imitates the effects of nature. England will 
 never rival Italy while we servilely copy what the wise Italians, 
 Eaphael and Michael Angelo, scorned, nay abhorred, as Vasari tells 
 us. What kind of intellects must he have who sees only the colours 
 of things, and not the forms of things? No man of sense can 
 think that an imitation of the objects of nature is the art of 
 painting, or that such imitation (which any one may easily perform) 
 is worthy of notice — much less that such an art should be the 
 glory and pride of a nation. The Italians laugh at the English 
 connoisseurs, who are (most of them) such silly fellows as to be- 
 lieve this. 
 
 A man sets himself down with colours, and with all the articles 
 of painting ; he puts a model before him, and he copies that so 
 neat as to make it a deception. Now, let any man of sense ask 
 himself one question : Is this art ? Can it be worthy of admira- 
 tion to anybody of understanding ? Who could not do this ? What 
 man, who has eyes and an ordinary share of patience, cannot do 
 this neatly? Is this art, or is it glorious to a nation to produce 
 such contemptible copies ? Countrymen, countrymen, do not suffer 
 yourselves to be disgraced ! 
 
 No man of sense ever supposes that copying from nature is the 
 art of painting ; if the art is no more than this, it is no better 
 than any other manual labour : anybody may do it, and the fool 
 often will do it best, as it is a work of no mind. A jockey, that 
 is anything of a jockey, will never buy a horse by the colour ; and a 
 man who has got any brains will never buy a picture by the 
 colour. 
 
 When I tell any truth, it is not for the sake of convincing those 
 who do not know it, but for the sake of defending those who do. 
 It is nonsense for noblemen and gentlemen to offer premiums for 
 
154 
 
 SELECTIONS FKOM BLAKE'S WEITINGS. 
 
 the encouragement of art, when such pictures as these can be done 
 without premiums. Let them encourage what exists already, and not 
 endeavour to counteract by tricks. Let it no more be said that 
 empires encourage arts, for it is arts that encourage empires. Arts 
 and artists are spiritual, and laugh at mortal contingencies. Let 
 us teach Buonaparte, and whomsoever else it may concern, that it is 
 not arts that follow and attend upon empire, but empire that attends 
 upon and follows the arts. It is in their power to hinder instruction, 
 but not to instruct ; just as it is in their power to murder a man, but 
 not to make a man. 
 
 I do not pretend to paint better than Eaphael or Michael Angelo, 
 or Giulio Eomano, or Albert Diirer ; but I do pretend to paint finer 
 than Eubens, or Eembrandt, or Correggio, or Titian. I do not pretend 
 to engrave finer than Albert Diirer; but I do pretend to engrave 
 finer than Strange, Woolett, Hall, or Bartolozzi ; and all because 
 I understand drawing, which they understood not. Englishmen 
 have been so used to journeymen's undecided bungling, that they 
 cannot bear the firmness of a master's touch. Every line is the 
 line of beauty ; it is only fumble and bungle which cannot draw a 
 line. This only is ugliness. That is not a line which doubts and 
 hesitates in the midst of its course. 
 
 I know my execution is not like anybody else's. I do not 
 intend it should be so. None but blockheads copy one another. 
 My conception and invention are on all hands allowed to be superior ; 
 my execution will be found so too. To what is it that gentlemen of 
 the first rank both in genius and fortune have subscribed their 
 names ? To my inventions. The executive part they never disputed. 
 
 The painters of England are unemployed in public works, while 
 the sculptors have continual and superabundant employment. Our 
 churches and our abbeys are treasures of their producing for ages 
 back, while painting is excluded. Painting, the principal art, has 
 no place among our almost only public works. Yet it is more 
 
PUBLIC ADDRESS. 
 
 155 
 
 adapted to solemn ornament than marble can be, as it is capable 
 of being placed in any height, and, indeed, would make a noble 
 finish, placed above the great public monuments in Westminster, 
 St. Paul's,' and other cathedrals. To the Society for the Encourage- 
 ment of Art I address myself with respectful duty, requesting 
 their consideration of my plan as a great public means of ad- 
 vancing fine art in Protestant communities. Monuments to the 
 dead painters by historical and poetical artists, like Barry and 
 Mortimer (I forbear to name living artists, though equally worthy) — 
 I say, monuments to painters — must make England what Italy is, 
 an envied storehouse of intellectual riches. 
 
 It has been said of late years, the English public have no taste 
 for painting. This is a falsehood. The English are as good judges 
 of painting as of poetry, and they prove it in their contempt for 
 great collections of all the rubbish of the Continent, brought here 
 by ignorant picture-dealers. An Englishman may well say 'I am 
 no judge of painting,' when he is shown these smears and daubs, 
 at an immense price, and told that such is the art of painting. I 
 say the English public are true encouragers of real art, while they 
 discourage and look with contempt on false art. 
 
 Eesentment for personal injuries has had some share in this 
 public address, but love for my art, "and zeal for my country, a 
 much greater. 
 
 I do not know whether Homer is a liar and that there is no such 
 thing as generous contention. I know that all those with whom I 
 have contended in art have striven, not to excel, but to starve me out 
 by calumny and the arts of trading competition. The manner in 
 which my character has been blasted these thirty years both as an 
 artist and a man may be seen particularly in a Sunday paper 
 called The Examiner, published in Beaufort's Buildings (we all know 
 that editors of newspapers trouble their heads very little about art 
 and science, and that they are always paid for what they put in 
 
156 
 
 SELECTIONS FEOM BLAKE'S WEITINGS. 
 
 upon these ungracious subjects) : and the manner in which I have 
 rooted out the nest of villains will be seen in a poem concerning my 
 three years' herculean labours at Felpham, which I shall soon pub- 
 lish. Secret calumny and open professions of friendship are common 
 enough all the world over, but have never been so good an occasion 
 of poetic imagery. When a base man means to be your enemy, he 
 always begins with being your friend. Flaxman cannot deny that 
 one of the very first monuments he did I gratuitously designed for 
 him ; at the same time he was blasting my character as an artist to 
 Macklin, my employer, as Macklin told me at the time, and pos- 
 terity will know. Many people are so foolish as to think they can 
 wound Mr. Fuseli over my shoulder ; they will find themselves mis- 
 taken ; they could not wound even Mr. Barry so. 
 
 In a commercial nation, impostors are abroad in all professions ; 
 these are the greatest enemies of genius. In the art of painting 
 these impostors sedulously propagate an opinion that great inventors 
 cannot execute. This opinion is as destructive of the true artist as 
 it is false by all experience. Even Hogarth cannot be either copied 
 or improved. Can Anglus never discern perfection but in a journey- 
 man labourer? 
 
 P.S. — I do not believe that this absurd opinion ever was set on 
 foot till, in my outset into life, it was artfully published, both in 
 whispers and in print, by certain persons whose robberies from me 
 made it necessary to them that I should be hid in a corner. It 
 never was supposed that a copy could be better than an original, or 
 near so good, till, a few years ago, it became the interest of certain 
 knaves. The lavish praise I have received from all quarters for 
 invention and drawing has generally been accompanied by this : 
 ' He can conceive, but he cannot execute.' This absurd assertion has 
 done me, and may still do me, the greatest mischief. I call for 
 public protection against these villains. I am, like others, just 
 equal in invention and in execution, as my works show. I, in my 
 
PUBLIC ADDRESS. 
 
 157 
 
 own defence, challenge a competition with the finest engravings, and 
 defy the most critical judge to make the comparison honestly : 
 asserting, in my own defence, that this print is the finest that has 
 been done, or is likely to he done, in England, where drawing, the 
 foundation, is condemned, and absurd nonsense about dots and 
 lozenges and clean strokes made to occupy the attention to the 
 neglect of all real art. I defy any man to cut cleaner strokes than I 
 do, or rougher, when I please ; and assert, that he who thinks he can 
 engrave or paint either, without being a master of drawing, is a fool. 
 Painting is drawing on canvas, and engraving is drawing on 
 copper, and nothing else. Drawing is execution and nothing else ; 
 and he who draws best must be the best artist. And to this I 
 subscribe my name as a public duty. 
 
 William Blake, 
 
158 
 
 SELECTIONS FEOM BLAKE'S WEITINGS. 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 [In an early part of the same book from which has been gathered the 
 foregoing Public Address, occnr three memoranda having reference to the 
 methods by which Blake engraved some of his designs. 
 
 These receipts are written immediately under two very curious entries : — 
 Tuesday, Jan. 20, 1807, Between two and seven in the evening. Despair.' 
 And — ' I say I shan't live five years ; and if I live one, it will be a wonder. 
 June 1793.' The last-quoted entry is in pencil, and pretty evidently made 
 before the subjoined.] 
 
 Memorandum. 
 
 To engrave on pewter : Let there be first a drawing made correctly with 
 black-lead pencil ; let nothing be to seek. Then rub it off on the plate, 
 covered with white wax; or perhaps pass it through press. This will 
 produce certain and determined forms on the plate, and time will not be 
 wasted in seeking them afterwards. 
 
 Memorandum. 
 
 To wood-cut on pewter : Lay a ground on the plate, and smoke it as for 
 etching. Then trace your outlines, and, beginning with the spots of light 
 on each object, with an oval-pointed needle scrape off the ground, as a 
 direction for your graver. Then proceed to graving, with the ground on the 
 plate ; being as careful as possible not to hurt the ground, because it, being 
 black, will show perfectly what is wanted. 
 
 Memorandum. 
 
 To wood-cut on copper : Lay a ground as for etching ; trace, &c, and, 
 instead of etching the blacks, etch the whites, and bite it in.' 
 
SIBYLLINE LEAVES. 
 
 On Homer s Poetry. 
 
 Every poem must necessarily be a perfect Unity, but why Homer's 
 is peculiarly so I cannot tell : lie has told the story of Bellerophon, 
 and omitted tbe Judgment of Paris, which is not only a part, but a 
 principal part, of Homer's subject. But when a work has unity, it is 
 as much so in a part as in the whole. The torso is as much a unity 
 as the Laocoon. As unity is the cloak of folly, so goodness is the 
 cloak of knavery. Those. who will have unity exclusively in Homer 
 come out with a moral like a sting in the tail. Aristotle says 
 characters are either good or bad : now, goodness or badness has 
 nothing to do with character. An apple-tree, a pear-tree, a horse, 
 a lion, are characters ; but a good apple-tree or a bad is an apple-tree 
 still. A horse is not more a lion for being a bad horse — that is its 
 character : its goodness or badness is another consideration. 
 
 It is the same with the moral of a whole poem as with the moral 
 goodness of its parts. Unity and morality are secondary consider- 
 ations, and belong to Philosophy, and not to Poetry — to exception, 
 and not to rule — to accident, and not to substance. The ancients 
 called it eating of the Tree of Good and Evil. 
 
 The Classics it is, the Classics, and not Goths or monks, that 
 desolate Europe with wars. 
 
160 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 On Virgil. 
 
 Sacred truth has pronounced that Greece and Borne, as Babylon 
 and Egypt, so far from being parents of Arts and Sciences, as they 
 pretend, were destroyers of all Art. Homer, Virgil, and Ovid, confirm 
 this, and make us reverence the Word of God, the only light of Anti- 
 quity that remains unperverted by war. Virgil, in the Eneid, Book 
 VI. line 848, says : ' Let others study Art. Eome has somewhat 
 better to do — namely, War and Dominion.' 
 
 Rome and Greece swept art into their maw, and destroyed it. A 
 warlike State never can produce art. It will rob and plunder, and 
 accumulate into one place, and translate, and copy, and buy and sell, 
 and criticise, but not make. Grecian is mathematic form. Mathematic 
 form is eternal in the reasoning memory. Living form is eternal 
 existence. Gothic is living form. 
 
A VISION OF THE LAST JUDGMENT. 
 
 The Last Judgment is not fable, or allegory, but vision. Fable, or 
 allegory, is a totally distinct and inferior kind of poetry. Vision, 
 or imagination, is a representation of what actually exists, really 
 and unchangeably. Eable, or allegory, is formed by the daughters 
 of Memory. Imagination is surrounded by the daughters of inspi- 
 ration, who, in the aggregate, are called J erusalem. Fable is allegory, 
 but what critics call the fable is vision itself. The Hebrew Bible 
 and the Gospel of Jesus are not allegory, but eternal vision, or 
 imagination, of all that exists. Note here that fable, or allegory, 
 is seldom without some vision. " Pilgrim's Progress " is full of 
 it ; the Greek poets the same. But allegory and vision ought to 
 be known as two distinct things, and so called for the sake of 
 eternal life. The [ancients produce fable] when they assert that 
 Jupiter usurped the throne of his father, Saturn, and brought on 
 an iron age, and begot on Mnemosyne, or memory, the great Muses, 
 which are not inspiration, as the Bible is. Eeality was forgot, 
 and the varieties of time and space only remembered, and called 
 reality. The Greeks represent Chronos, or Time, as a very aged 
 man. This is fable, but the real vision of Time is an eternal youth. 
 I have, however, somewhat accommodated my figure of Time to 
 the common opinion ; as I myself am also infected with it, and 
 my vision is also infected, and I see Time aged — alas ! too much 
 so. Allegories are things that relate to moral virtues. Moral virtues 
 do not exist : they are allegories and dissimulations. But Time 
 and Space are real beings, a male and a female ; Time is a man, 
 Space is a woman, and her masculine portion is Death. Such is 
 
 VOL. II. m 
 
162 
 
 SELECTIONS FEOM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 the mighty difference between allegoric fable and spiritual mystery. 
 Let it here be noted that the Greek fables originated in spiritual 
 mystery and real vision, which are lost and clouded in fable and 
 allegory ; while the Hebrew Bible and the Greek Gospel are genuine, 
 preserved by the Saviour's mercy. The nature of my work is 
 visionary, or imaginative ; it is an endeavour to restore what the 
 ancients called the Golden Age. 
 
 Plato has made Socrates say that poets and prophets do not 
 know or understand what they write or utter. This is a most 
 pernicious falsehood. If they do not, pray, is an inferior kind to 
 be called ' knowing ? ' Plato confutes himself. 
 
 The Last Judgment is one of these stupendous visions. I have 
 represented it as I saw it. To different people it appears differently, 
 as everything else does. 
 
 In eternity one thing never changes into another thing : each 
 identity is eternal. Consequently, Apuleius's Golden Ass, and Ovid's 
 Metamorphoses, and others of the like kind, are fable ; yet they 
 contain vision in a sublime degree, being derived from real vision 
 in more ancient writings. Lot's wife being changed into a pillar 
 of salt alludes to the mortal body being rendered a permanent 
 statue, but not changed or transformed into another identity, while 
 it retains its own individuality. A man can never become ass 
 nor horse ; some are born with shapes of men who are both ; but 
 eternal identity is one thing, and corporeal vegetation is another 
 thing. Changing water into wine by Jesus, and into blood by 
 Moses, relates to vegetable nature also. 
 
 The nature of visionary fancy, or imagination, is very little 
 known, and the eternal nature and permanence of its ever-existent 
 images are considered as less permanent than the things of vegetable 
 and generative nature. Yet the oak dies as well as the lettuce ; 
 but its eternal image or individuality never dies, but renews by 
 its seed. Just so the imaginative image returns by the seed of 
 
A VISION OF THE LAST JUDGMENT. 
 
 163 
 
 contemplative thought. The writings of the prophets illustrate these 
 conceptions of the visionary fancy by their various sublime and 
 divine images as seen in the worlds of vision. 
 
 The world of imagination is the world of eternity. It is the 
 divine bosom into which we shall all go after the death of the 
 vegetated body. This world of imagination is infinite and eternal, 
 whereas the world of generation, or vegetation, is finite and temporal. 
 There exist in that eternal world the permanent realities of every 
 thing which we see reflected in this vegetable glass of nature. 
 
 All things are comprehended in these eternal forms in the divine 
 body of the Saviour, the true vine of eternity . . . who appeared 
 to me as coming to judgment among His saints, and throwing off 
 the temporal, that the eternal might be established. ..Around Him 
 were seen the images of existences according to a certain order, 
 suited to my imaginative eye, as follows : — 
 
 Jesus seated between the two pillars, Jachin and Boaz, with 
 the word divine of revelation on His knee, and on each side the 
 four-and-twenty elders sitting in judgment ; the heavens opening 
 around Him by unfolding the clouds around His throne. The old 
 heavens and the old earth are passing away, and the new heavens 
 and the new earth descendino- ; a sea of fire issues from before 
 
 o 
 
 the throne. Adam and Eve appear first before the judgment-seat, 
 in humiliation ; Abel surrounded by innocents ; and Cain, with the 
 fliut in his hand with which he slew his brother, falling with the 
 head downwards. From the cloud on which Eve stands Satan is 
 seen falling headlong, wound round by the tail of the serpent, 
 whose bulk, nailed to the cross round which he wreathes, is falling 
 into the abyss. Sin is also represented as a female bound in one 
 of the serpent's folds, surrounded by her fiends. Death is chained 
 to the cross, and Time falls together with Death, dragged down 
 by a demon crowned with laurel. Another demon, with a key, 
 has the charge of Sin, and is dragging her down by the hair 
 
164 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 Beside them a figure is seen, scaled with iron scales from head to 
 feet, precipitating himself into the abyss with the sword and ba- 
 lances : he is Og, king of Bashan. 
 
 On the right, beneath the cloud on which Abel kneels, is Abra- 
 ham, with Sarah and Isaac, also with Hagar and Ishmael on the 
 left. Abel kneels on a bloody cloud, descriptive of those Churches 
 before the Flood, that they were filled with blood and fire and 
 vapour of smoke. Even till Abraham's time the vapour and heat 
 were not extinguished. These states exist now. Man passes on, 
 but states remain for ever : he passes through them like a traveller, 
 who may as well suppose that the places he has passed through 
 exist no more, as a man may suppose that the states he has passed 
 through exist, no more : everything is eternal. 
 
 Beneath Ishmael is Mahomed : and beneath the falling figure of 
 Cain is Moses, casting his tables of stone into the deeps. It ought 
 to be understood that the persons, Moses and Abraham, are not here 
 meant, but the states signified by those names ; the individuals 
 being representatives, or visions, of those states, as they were re- 
 vealed to mortal man in the series of divine revelations, as they 
 are written in the Bible. These various states I have seen in my 
 imagination. When distant, they appear as one man; but, as you 
 approach, they appear multitudes of nations. Abraham hovers 
 above his posterity, which appear as multitudes of children ascending 
 from the earth, surrounded by stars, as it was said : ' As the staxs 
 of heaven for multitude.' Jacob and his twelve sons hover beneath 
 the feet of Abraham, and receive their children from the earth. 
 I have seen, when at a distance, multitudes of men in harmony 
 appear like a single infant, sometimes in the arms of a female. 
 This represented the Church. 
 
 But to proceed with the description of those on the left hand. 
 Beneath the cloud on which Moses kneels are two figures, a male 
 and a female, chained together by the feet. They represent those 
 
A VISION OF THE LAST JUDGMENT. 
 
 165 
 
 who perished by the Flood. Beneath them a multitude of their 
 associates are seen falling headlong. By the side of them is a 
 mighty fiend with a book in his hand, which is shut : he represents 
 the person named in Isaiah xxii. c. and 20 v., Eliakim, the son of 
 Hilkiah. He drags Satan down headlong. He is crowned with oak. 
 By the side of the scaled figure, representing Og, king of Bashan, 
 is a figure with a basket, emptying out the varieties of riches and 
 worldly honours. He is Araunah, the Jebusite, master of the 
 threshing-floor. Above him are two figures elevated on a cloud, 
 representing the Pharisees, who plead their own righteousness before 
 the throne : they are weighed down by two fiends. Beneath the man 
 with the basket are three fiery fiends, with grey beards, and scourges 
 of fire : they represent cruel laws. They scourge a group of figures 
 down into the deeps. Beneath them are various figures in attitudes of 
 contention, representing various states of misery, which, alas ! every 
 one on earth is liable to enter into, and against which we should 
 all watch. The ladies will be pleased to see that I have represented 
 the Furies by three men, and not by three women. It is not because 
 I think the ancients wrong ; but they will be pleased to remember 
 that mine is vision, and not fable. The spectator may suppose 
 them clergymen in the pulpit, scourging sin, instead of forgiving it. 
 
 The earth beneath these falling groups of figures is rocky and 
 burning, and seems as if convulsed by earthquakes. A great city, 
 on fire, is seen in the distance. The armies (?) are fleeing upon the 
 mountains. On the foreground Hell is opened, and many figures 
 are descending into it down stone steps, and beside a gate beneath 
 a rock, where Sin and Death are to be closed eternally by that 
 fiend who carries the key in one hand, and drags them down with 
 the other. On the rock, and above the gate, a fiend with wings 
 urges the wicked onward with fiery darts. He is Hazael, the Syrian, 
 who drives abroad all those who rebel against their Saviour. Beneath 
 the steps is Babylon, represented by a king crowned, grasping his 
 
166 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 sword and his sceptre. He is just awakened out of his grave. 
 Around him are other kingdoms arising to judgment, represented in 
 this picture by single personages, according to the descriptions in 
 the Prophets. The figure dragging up a woman by her hair 
 represents the Inquisition, as do those contending on the sides of 
 the pit; and, in particular, the man strangling a woman repre- 
 sents a cruel Church. 
 
 Two persons, one in purple, the other in scarlet, are descending 
 down the steps into the pit. These are Caiaphas and Pilate ; two 
 states where all those reside who calumniate and murder under 
 pretence of holiness and justice. Caiaphas has a blue flame, like 
 a mitre, on his head: Pilate has bloody hands, that can never be 
 cleansed. The females behind them represent the females belonging 
 to such states, who are under perpetual terrors and vain dreams 
 plots, and secret deceit. Those figures that descend into the flames 
 before Caiaphas and Pilate are Judas and those of his class. Achi- 
 tophel is also here, with the cord in his hand. 
 
 Between the figures of Adam and Eve appears a fiery gulph 
 descending from the sea of fire before the throne. In this cataract 
 four angels descend headlong with four trumpets to awake the 
 dead. Beneath these is the seat of the harlot, named Mystery in 
 the Eevelations. She is seized by two beings, each with three 
 heads : they represent vegetative existence. As it is written in 
 Eevelations, they strip her naked, and burn her with fire. It 
 represents the eternal consumption of vegetable life and death, with 
 its lusts. The wreathed torches in their hands represent eternal 
 fire, which is the fire of generation or vegetation : it is an eternal 
 consummation. Those who are blessed with imaginative vision see 
 this eternal female, and tremble at what others fear not ; while they 
 despise and laugh at what others fear. Beneath her feet is a flaming 
 cavern, in which are seen her kings, and councillors, and warriors, 
 descending in flames, lamenting, and looking upon her in astonish- 
 
A VISION OF THE LAST JUDGMENT. 
 
 167 
 
 ment and terror, and Hell is opened beneatli her seat ; on the left 
 hand, the great Eed Dragon with seven heads and ten horns. He 
 has a book of accusations, lying on the rock, open before him. He 
 is bound in chains by two strong demons : they are Gog and Magog, 
 who have been compelled to subdue their master (Ezekiel xxxviii. c. 
 8 v.) with their hammer and tongs, about to new- create the seven- 
 headed kingdoms. The graves beneath are opened, and the dead 
 awake and obey the call of the trumpet: those on the right hand 
 awake in joy, those on the left in horror. Beneath the Dragon's 
 cavern a skeleton begins to animate, starting into life at the 
 trumpet's sound, while the wicked contend with each other on the 
 brink of perdition. On the right, a youthful couple are awaked by 
 their children ; an aged patriarch is awaked by his aged wife : he 
 is Albion, our ancestor, patriarch of the Atlantic Continent, whose 
 history preceded that of the Hebrews, and in whose sleep, or chaos, 
 creation began. The good woman is Britannica, the wife of Albion. 
 Jerusalem is their daughter. Little infants creep out of the flowery 
 mould into the green fields of the blessed, who, in various joyful 
 companies, embrace and ascend to meet eternity. 
 
 The persons who ascend to meet the Lord, coming in the clouds 
 with power and great glory, are representations of those states 
 described in the Bible under the names of the Fathers before and 
 after the Flood. Noah is seen in the midst of these, canopied by 
 a rainbow. On his right hand Shem, and on his left Japhet. These 
 three persons represent Poetry, Painting, and Music, the three powers 
 in man of conversing with Paradise, which the Flood did not sweep 
 away. Above Noah is the Church Universal, represented by a woman 
 surrounded by infants. There is such a state in eternity : it is com- 
 posed of the innocent civilized heathen and the uncivilized savage, 
 who, having not the law, do by nature the things contained in the 
 law. This state appears like a female crowned with stars, driven 
 into the wilderness : she has the moon under her feet. The aged 
 
168 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 figure with wings, having a writing tablet, and taking account of 
 the numbers who arise, is that Angel of the Divine Presence men- 
 tioned in Exodus xiv. c. 19 v. 
 
 Around Noah, and beneath him, are various figures risen into 
 the air. Among these are three females, representing those who are 
 not of the dead, but of those found alive at the Last Judgment. 
 They appear to be innocently gay and thoughtless, not being among 
 the condemned, because ignorant of crime in the midst of a cor- 
 rupted age. The Virgin Mary was of this class. A mother meets 
 her numerous family in the arms of their father: these are repre- 
 sentations of the Greek learned and wise, as also of those of other 
 nations, such as Egypt and Babylon, in which were multitudes who 
 shall meet the Lord coming in the clouds. 
 
 The children of Abraham, or Hebrew Church, are represented 
 as a stream of figures, on which are seen stars, somewhat like the 
 Milky Way. They ascend from the earth, where figures kneel, 
 embracing above the graves, and represent religion, or civilized life, 
 such as it is in the Christian Church, which is the offspring of the 
 Hebrew. Just above the graves, and above the spot where the 
 infants creep out of the ground (?) stand two — a man and woman : 
 these are the primitive Christians. The two figures in purifying 
 flames, by the side of the Dragon's cavern, represent the latter 
 state of the Church, when on the verge of perdition, yet protected 
 by a flaming sword. Multitudes are seen ascending from the green 
 fields of the blessed, in which a Gothic church is representative of 
 true art (called 'Gothic' in all ages, by those who follow the 
 fashion, as that is called which is without shape or fashion). 
 By the right hand of Noah, a woman with children represents 
 the state called Laban the Syrian : it is the remains of civilization 
 in the state from whence Adam was taken. Also, on the right 
 hand of Noah, a female descends to meet her lover or husband, 
 representative of that love •called friendship, which looks fox no 
 
A VISION OF THE LAST JUDGMENT. 
 
 169 
 
 other heaven than the beloved, and in him sees all reflected as in a 
 glass of eternal diamond. 
 
 On the right hand of these rise the diffident and humble, and 
 on their left a solitary woman with her infant. These are caught 
 up by three aged men, who appear as suddenly emerging from the 
 blue sky for their help. These three aged men represent divine 
 providence, as opposed to and distinct from divine vengeance, re- 
 presented by three aged men, on the side of the picture among the 
 wicked, with scourges of fire. 
 
 If the spectator could enter into these images in his imagination, 
 approaching them on the fiery chariot of his contemplative thought ; 
 if he could enter into Noah's rainbow, could make a friend and com- 
 panion of one of these images of wonder, which always entreat him 
 to leave mortal things (as he must know), then would he arise from 
 the grave, then would he meet the Lord in the air, and then he 
 would be happy. General knowledge is remote knowledge : it is 
 in particulars that wisdom consists, and happiness too. Both in 
 art and in life general masses are as much art as a pasteboard 
 man is human. Every man has eyes, nose, and mouth ; this every 
 idiot knows ; but he who enters into and discriminates most minutely 
 the manners and intentions, the characters in all their branches, is 
 the alone wise or sensible man; and on this discrimination all art 
 is founded. I entreat, then, that the spectator will attend to the 
 hands and feet ; to the lineaments of the countenance : they are 
 all descriptive of character, and not a line is drawn without inten- 
 tion, and that most discriminate and particular. As poetry admits 
 not a letter that is insignificant, so painting admits not a grain of 
 sand, or a blade of grass insignificant — much less an insignificant 
 blur or mark. 
 
 Above the head of Noah is Seth. This state, called Seth, is male 
 and female, in a higher state of happiness than Noah, being nearer 
 the state of innocence. Beneath the feet of Seth two figures represent 
 
170 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE." S WHITINGS. 
 
 the two seasons of Spring and Autumn, while, beneath the feet of 
 Noah, four seasons represent the changed state made by the Flood. 
 
 By the side of Seth is Elijah : he comprehends all the prophetic 
 characters. He is seen on his fiery chariot, bowing before the throne 
 of the Saviour. In like manner the figures of Seth and his wife 
 comprehend the Fathers before the Flood, and their generations : when 
 seen remote, they appear as one man. A little below Seth, on his 
 right, are two figures, a male and a female, with numerous children. 
 These represent those who were not in the line of the Church, and 
 yet were saved from among the antediluvians who perished. Be- 
 tween Seth and these, a female figure represents the solitary state of 
 those who, previous to the Flood, walked with God. 
 
 All these rise towards the opening cloud before the throne, led 
 onward by triumphant groups of infants. Between Seth and Elijah 
 three female figures, crowned with garlands, represent Learning and 
 Science, which accompanied Adam out of Eden. 
 
 The cloud that opens, rolling apart from before the throne, and 
 before the new heaven and the new earth, is composed of various 
 groups of figures, particularly the four living creatures mentioned in 
 Eevelations as surrounding the throne. These I suppose to have the 
 chief agency in removing the old heavens and the old earth, to make 
 way for the new heaven and the new earth, to descend from the 
 throne of God and of the Lamb. That living creature on the left of 
 the throne gives to the seven Angels the seven vials of the wrath of 
 God, with which they, hovering over the deeps beneath, pour out upon 
 the wicked their plagues. The other living creatures are descending 
 with a shout, and with the sound of the trumpet, and directing the 
 combats in the upper elements. In the two comers of the picture : 
 on the left hand, Apollyon is foiled before the sword of Michael ; 
 and, on the right, the two witnesses are subduing their enemies. 
 
 On the cloud are opened the books of remembrance of life and 
 of death : before that of life, on the right, some figures bow in 
 
A VISION OF THE LAST JUDGMENT. 
 
 171 
 
 lamentation ; before that of death, on the left, the Pharisees are 
 pleading their own righteousness. The one shines with beams of 
 light, the other utters lightnings and tempests. 
 
 A Last Judgment is necessary because fools flourish. Nations 
 flourish under wise rulers, and are depressed under foolish rulers ; 
 it is the same with individuals as with nations. Works of art can 
 only be produced in perfection where the man is either in affluence 
 or is above the care of it. Poverty is the fool's rod, which at last is 
 turned on his own back. That is a Last Judgment, when men of real art 
 govern, and pretenders fall. Some people, and not a few artists, have 
 asserted that the painter of this picture would not have done so well 
 if he had been properly encouraged. Let those who think so reflect 
 on the state of nations under poverty, and their incapability of art. 
 Though art is above either, the argument is better for affluence than 
 poverty ; and, though he would not have been a greater artist, yet 
 he would have produced greater works of art, in proportion to his 
 means. A Last Judgment is not for the purpose of making bad 
 men better, but for the purpose of hindering them from oppressing 
 the good. 
 
 Around the throne heaven is opened, and the nature of eternal 
 things displayed, all springing from the Divine Humanity. All beams 
 from Him : He is the bread and the wine ; He is the water of life. 
 Accordingly, on each side of the opening heaven appears an Apostle : 
 that on the right represents Baptism ; that on the left represents the 
 Lord's Supper. 
 
 All life consists of these two : throwing off error and knaves 
 from our company continually, and receiving truth or wise men into 
 our company continually. He who is out of the Church and opposes 
 it is no less an agent of religion than he who is in it : to be an error, 
 and to be cast out, is a part of God's design. No man can embrace 
 true art till he has explored and cast out false art (such is the nature 
 of mortal things) ; or he will be himself cast out by those who have 
 
172 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 already embraced true art. Thus, my picture is a history of art and 
 science, the foundation of society, which is humanity itself. What 
 are all the gifts of the Spirit but mental gifts % Whenever any in- 
 dividual rejects error, and embraces truth, a Last Judgment passes 
 upon that individual. 
 
 Over the head of the Saviour and Eedeemer, the Holy Spirit, 
 like a dove, is surrounded by a blue heaven, in which are the two 
 cherubim that bowed over the ark ; for here the temple is open in 
 heaven, and the ark of the covenant is a dove of peace. The curtains 
 are drawn apart, Christ having rent the veil : the candlestick and the 
 table of shew-bread appear on each side : a glorification of angels 
 with harps surrounds the dove. 
 
 The Temple stands on the mount of God. From it flows on each 
 side a river of life, on whose banks grows the Tree of Life, among 
 whose branches temples and pinnacles, tents and pavilions, gardens 
 and groves, display Paradise, with its inhabitants, walking up and 
 down, in conversations concerning mental delights. Here they are 
 no longer talking of what is good and evil, or of what is right or 
 wrong, and puzzling themselves in Satan's labyrinth ; but are con- 
 versing with eternal realities, as they exist in the human imagination. 
 
 We are in a world of generation and death, and this world we 
 must cast off if we would be artists (?) such as Eaphael, Michael 
 Angelo, and the ancient sculptors. If we do not cast off this world, 
 we shall be only Venetian painters, who will be cast off and lost 
 from art. 
 
 Jesus is surrounded by beams of glory, in which are seen all 
 around Him infants emanating from Him : these represent the eternal 
 births of intellect from the divine humanity. A rainbow surrounds 
 the throne and the glory, in which youthful nuptials receive the 
 infants in their hands. In eternity woman is the emanation of man ; 
 she has no will of her own ; there is no such thing in eternity as a 
 female will. 
 
A VISION OF THE LAST JUDGMENT. 173 
 
 On the side next Baptism are seen those called in the Bible 
 Nursing Fathers and Nursing Mothers : they represent Education. On 
 the side next the Lord's Supper, the Holy Family, consisting of Mary, 
 Joseph, John the Baptist, Zacharias, and Elizabeth, receiving the 
 bread and wine, among other spirits of the Just made perfect. Be- 
 neath these, a cloud of women and children are taken up, fleeing 
 from the rolling cloud which separates the wicked from the seats 
 of bliss. These represent those who, though willing, were too weak 
 to reject error without the assistance and countenance of those 
 already in the truth : for a man can only reject error by the advice 
 of a friend, or by the immediate inspiration of God. It is for this 
 reason, among many others, that I have put the Lord's Supper on 
 the left hand of the throne, for it appears so at the Last Judgment 
 for a protection. 
 
 The painter hopes that his friends, Anytus, Melitus, and Lycon, 
 will perceive that they are not now in ancient Greece ; and, though 
 they can use the poison of calumny, the English public will be 
 convinced that such a picture as this could never be painted by a 
 madman, or by one in a state of outrageous manners ; as these bad 
 men both print and publish by all the means in their power. The 
 painter begs public protection, and all will be well. 
 
 Men are admitted into heaven, not because they have curbed and 
 governed their passions, or have no passions, but because they have 
 cultivated their understandings. The treasures of heaven are not 
 negations of passion, but realities of intellect, from which all the 
 passions emanate, uncurbed in their eternal glory. The fool shall 
 not enter into heaven, let him be ever so holy : holiness is not the 
 price of entrance into heaven. Those who are cast out are all those 
 who, having no passions of their own, because no intellect, have 
 spent their lives in curbing and governing other people's by the 
 various arts of poverty, and cruelty of all kinds. The modern 
 Church crucifies Christ with the head downwards. "Woe, woe, woe to 
 
171- SELECTIONS FROM BLAKE* S WRITINGS. 
 
 you, hypocrites ! Even murder, which the Courts of Justice (more 
 merciful than the Church) are whispered to allow, is not done in 
 passion, but in cool-blooded design and intention. 
 
 Many suppose that before the Creation all was solitude and chaos. 
 This is the most pernicious idea that can enter the mind, as it takes 
 away all sublimity from the Bible, and limits all existence to creation 
 and chaos — to the time and space fixed by the corporeal vegetative 
 eye, and leaves the man who entertains such an idea the habitation 
 of unbelieving demons. Eternity exists, and all things in eternity, 
 independent of creation, which was an act of mercy. I have repre- 
 sented those who are in eternity by some in a cloud, within the 
 rainbow that surrounds the throne. They merely appear as in a 
 cloud when anything of creation, redemption, or judgment, is the 
 subject of contemplation, though their whole contemplation is con- 
 cerning these things. The reason they so appear is the humiliation 
 of the reason and doubting selfhood, and the giving all up to 
 inspiration. By this it will be seen that I do not consider either 
 the just, or the wicked, to be in a supreme state, but to be, every 
 one of them, states of the sleep which the soul may fall into in its 
 deadly dreams of good and evil, when it leaves Paradise following 
 the Serpent. 
 
 Many persons, such as Paine and Voltaire, with some of the 
 ancient Greeks, say : 1 We will not converse concerning good and 
 evil ; we will live in Paradise and Liberty.' You may do so in 
 spirit, but not in the mortal body, as you pretend, till after a Last 
 Judgment. For in Paradise they have no corporeal and mortal body : 
 that originated with the Fall and was called Death, and cannot be 
 removed but by a Last Judgment. While we are in the world of 
 mortality, we must suffer — the whole Creation groans to be delivered. 
 
 There will always be as many hypocrites born as honest men, 
 and they will always have superior power in mortal things. You 
 cannot have liberty in this world without what you call moral virtue, 
 
A VISION OF THE LAST JUDGMENT. 
 
 175 
 
 and you cannot have moral virtue without the subjection of that 
 half of the human race who hate what you call moral virtue. 
 
 The nature of hatred and envy, and of all the mischiefs in the 
 world, is here depicted. No one envies or hates one of his own 
 party; even the devils love one another in their own way. They 
 torment one another for other reasons than hate or envy : these are 
 only employed against the just. Neither can Seth envy Noah, or 
 Elijah envy Abraham ; but they may both of them envy the success 
 of Satan, or of Og, or Moloch. The horse never envies the peacock, 
 nor the sheep the goat ; but they envy a rival in life and existence, 
 whose ways and means exceed their own. Let him be of what class 
 of animals he will, a dog will envy a cat who is pampered at the 
 expense of his own comfort, as I have often seen. The Bible never 
 tells us that devils torment one another through envy ; it is through 
 this that they torment the just. But for what do they torment one 
 another ? I answer : For the coercive laws of hell, moral hypocrisy. 
 They torment a hypocrite when he is discovered — they punish a 
 failure in the tormentor who has suffered the subject of his torture to 
 escape. In Hell, all is self-righteousness ; there is no such thing- 
 there as forgiveness of sin. He who does forgive sin is crucified as 
 an abetter of criminals, and he who performs works of mercy, in any 
 shape whatever, is punished and, if possible, destroyed — not through 
 envy, or hatred, or malice, but through self-righteousness, that thinks 
 it does God service, which god is Satan. They do not envy one 
 another : they contemn or despise one another. Forgiveness of sin 
 is only at the judgment-seat of Jesus the Saviour, where the accuser 
 is cast out, not because he sins, but because he torments the just, and 
 makes them do what he condemns as sin, and what he knows is 
 opposite to their own identity. 
 
 It is not because angels are holier than men or devils that makes 
 them angels, but because they do not expect holiness from one another, 
 but from God only. 
 
176 
 
 SELECTIONS FKOM BLAKE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 The player is a liar when he says : ' Angels are happier than 
 men, because they are better.' Angels are happier than men and 
 devils, because they are not always prying after good and evil in one 
 another, and eating the tree of knowledge for Satan's gratification. 
 
 The Last Judgment is an overwhelming of bad art and science. 
 Mental things are alone real : what is called corporeal nobody knows 
 of ; its dwelling-place is a fallacy, and its existence an imposture. 
 Where is the existence out of mind, or thought ? — where is it but in 
 the mind of a fool. Some people flatter themselves that there will 
 be no Last Judgment, and that bad art will be adopted and mixed 
 with good art — that error or experiment will make a part of truth ; 
 and they boast that it is its foundation. These people flatter them- 
 selves; I will not flatter them. Error is created, truth is eternal. 
 Error or creation will be burned up, and then, and not till then, truth 
 or eternity will appear. It is burned up the moment men cease to 
 behold it. I assert, for myself, that I do not behold the outward 
 creation, and that to me it is hindrance and not action. 1 What ! ' 
 it will be questioned ; ' when the sun rises, do you not see a round 
 disc of fire, somewhat like a guinea V Oh ! no, no ! I see an innume- 
 rable company of the heavenly host, crying : ' Holy, holy, holy is the 
 Lord God Almighty!' I question not my corporeal eye, any more 
 than I would question a window concerning a sight. I look through 
 it, and not with it. 
 
 The Last Judgment [will be] when all those are cast away who 
 trouble religion with questioning concerning good and evil, or eating 
 of the tree of those knowledges or reasonings which hinder the 
 vision of God, turning all into a consuming fire. When imagination, 
 art, and science, and all intellectual gifts, all the gifts of the Holy 
 Ghost, are looked upon as of no use, and only contention remains 
 to man ; then the Last Judgment begins, and its vision is seen by the 
 eye of every one according to the situation he holds. 
 
APPENDIX, 
 
 LETTEES FROM BLAKE. 
 
 ANNOTATED CATALOGUE OF BLAKE'S PICTUEES AND 
 
 DEAWINGS. 
 
 LIST, WITH OCCASIONAL NOTES, OF BLAKE'S 
 ENGEAVINGS AND WRITINGS. 
 
 MINOE ITEMS. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 N 
 
[The ten following Letters were written by Blake, during his residence at Felpham, 
 to his friend and patron Mr. Butts, whose grandson, Captain Butts, kindly permits their 
 publication here. They did not come to hand until after the foregoing Biography was in 
 type, and they could not, therefore, be inserted in their natural place, where they would 
 have so incalculably enhanced the interest of the narrative : a narrative, — the reader 
 will forgive me for pointing out, — which, drawn as it was from the scantiest materials, 
 will yet be found to harmonize, both in letter and spirit, with the tenor of these 
 new-found documents, though the broad daylight they let in upon the undercurrents 
 of Blake's life at that period never greeted the eyes to which it would have been so 
 precious. The first of these letters i3 almost word for word the same as one addressed 
 to Flaxman, already quoted ; but, being brief, to mar the completeness of the series by 
 withdrawing it seemed a pity.— Ed. Life.] 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 [Date of Post-mark, Sept. 23, 1800.] 
 
 Dear Friend of my Angels, 
 
 We are safe arrived at our cottage, without accident or hindrance, 
 though it was between eleven and twelve o'clock at night before we could 
 get home, owing to the necessary shifting of our boxes and portfolios from 
 one chaise to another. We had seven different chaises and as many different 
 drivers. All upon the road was cheerfulness and welcome. Though our 
 luggage was very heavy, there was no grumbling at all. We travelled through, 
 a most beautiful country on a most glorious day. Our cottage is more 
 beautiful than I thought it, and also more convenient ; for though small it 
 is well proportioned, and if I should ever build a palace, it would be only 
 my cottage enlarged. Please to tell Mrs. Butts that we have dedicated a 
 chamber to her service, and that it has a very fine view of the sea. Mr. 
 Hayley received us with his usual brotherly affection. My wife and 
 sister are both very well, and courting Neptune for an embrace, whose 
 terrors this morning made them afraid, but whose mildness is often equal to 
 his terrors. The villagers of Felpham are not mere rustics ; 'they are polite 
 and modest. Meat is cheaper than in London ; but the sweet air and the 
 voices of winds, trees, and birds, and the odours of the happy ground, make 
 it a dwelling for immortals. Work will go on here with God-speed. A 
 roller and two harrows lie before my window. I met a plough on my first 
 going out at my gate the first morning after my arrival, and the ploughboy 
 said to the ploughman, ' Father, the gate is open/ I have begun to work, 
 and find that I can work with greater pleasure than ever, hoping soon to 
 give you a proof that Felpham is propitious to the arts. 
 
 God bless you ! I shall wish for you on Tuesday evening as usual 
 Pray, give my and my wife and sister's love and respects to Mrs. Butts. 
 Accept them yourself, and believe me for ever 
 
 Your affectionate and obliged friend, 
 
 William Blake. 
 
 N 2 
 
180 
 
 LETTEES. 
 
 My sister will be in town in a week, and bring with her your account, 
 and whatever else I can finish. 
 Direct to me — 
 
 Blake, Felphani, near Chichester, 
 
 Sussex. 
 
 Felpham, Oct. 2, 1800. 
 
 Fbiend of Eeligion and Order, 
 
 I thank you for your very beautiful and encouraging verses, which 
 I account a crown of laurels, and I also thank you for your reprehension of 
 follies by me fostered. Your prediction will, I hope, be fulfilled in me, 
 and in future I am the determined advocate of religion and humility — the 
 two bands of society. Having been so full of the business of settling the 
 sticks and feathers of my nest, I have not got any forwarder with the Three 
 Maries, or with any other of your commissions ; but hope, now I have com- 
 menced a new life of industry, to do credit to that new life by improved 
 works. Eeceive from me a return of verses, such as Felpham produces by 
 me, though not such as she produces by her eldest son. However, such as 
 they are, I cannot resist the temptation to send them to you : — 
 
 To my friend Butts I write 
 My first vision of light, 
 On the yellow sands sitting. 
 The sun was emitting 
 His glorious beams 
 From Heaven's high streams. 
 Over sea, over land, 
 My eyes did expand 
 Into regions of air, 
 Away from all care j 
 Into regions of fire, 
 Remote from desire : 
 The light of the morning, 
 Heaven's mountains adorning. 
 In particles bright, 
 The jewels of light 
 Distinct shone and clear. 
 Amaz'd, and in fear, 
 I each particle gazed, 
 Astonish'd, amazed ; 
 For each was a man 
 Human-formed. Swift I ran, 
 For they beckon'd to me, 
 Eemote by the sea, 
 
 Saying : ' Each grain of sand, 
 Every stone on the land, 
 Each rock and each hill, 
 Each fountain and rill, 
 Each herb and each tree, 
 Mountain, hill, earth, and sea, 
 Cloud, meteor, and star, 
 Are men seen afar.' 
 I stood in the streams 
 Of heaven's bright beams. 
 And saw Felpham sweet 
 Beneath my bright feet, 
 In soft female charms ; 
 And in her fair arms 
 My shadow I knew, 
 And my wife's shadow too, 
 And my sister and friend. 
 We like infants descend 
 In our shadows on earth, 
 Like a weak mortal birth. 
 My eyes more and more, 
 Like a sea without shore, 
 Continue expanding, 
 The heavens commanding, 
 
LETTEES. 
 
 181 
 
 Till the jewels of light, 
 Heavenly men beaming bright, 
 Appeared as one man, 
 Who complacent began 
 My limbs to infold 
 In his beams of bright gold ; 
 Like dross purged away, 
 All my mire and my clay. 
 Soft consumed in delight, 
 In his bosom sun-bright 
 I remain'd. Soft he smil'd, 
 And I heard his voice mild, 
 Saying : c This is my fold, 
 0 thou ram, horn'd with gold, 
 Who awakest from sleep 
 
 On the sides of the deep. 
 
 On the mountains around 
 
 The roarings resound 
 
 Of the lion and wolf, 
 
 The loud sea and deep gulph. 
 
 These are guards of my fold, 
 
 0 thou ram, horn'd with gold ! 3 
 And the voice faded mild, 
 
 1 remain'd as a child ; 
 All I ever had known, 
 Before me bright shone : 
 I saw you and your wife 
 By the fountains of life. 
 Such the vision to me 
 Appear'd on the sea. 
 
 Mrs. Butts will, I hope, excuse my not having finished the portrait. I 
 wait for less hurried moments. Our cottage looks more and more beautifuL 
 And though the weather is wet, the air is very mild, much milder than it 
 was in London when we came away. Chichester is a very handsome city, 
 seven miles from us. We can get most conveniences there. The country 
 is not so destitute of accommodations to our wants as I expected it would be. 
 "We have had but little time for viewing the country, but what we have 
 seen is most beautiful ; and the people are genuine Saxons, handsomer than 
 the people about London. Mrs. Butts will excuse the following lines : — 
 
 Wife of the friend of those I most revere, 
 Receive this tribute from a harp sincere ; 
 Go on in virtuous seed-sowing on mould 
 Of human vegetation, and behold 
 Your harvest springing to eternal life, 
 Parent of youthful minds, and happy wife ! 
 
 My dear Sir, 
 
 The necessary application to my duty as well to my old as new 
 friends has prevented me from that respect I owe in particular to you. 
 And your accustomed forgiveness of my want of dexterity in certain points 
 emboldens me to hope that forgiveness to be continued to me a little longer, 
 when I shall be enabled to throw off all obstructions to success. 
 
 TO MRS. BUTTS. 
 
 W. B. 
 
 I am for ever yours, 
 
 William Blake. 
 
 Felphani, May 10, 1801. 
 
182 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 Mr. Hayley acts like a prince. I am at complete ease. But I wish, to 
 do my duty especially to you, who were the precursor of my present fortune. 
 I never will send you a picture unworthy of my present proficiency. I soon 
 shall send you several. My present engagements are in miniature-painting. 
 Miniature is become a goddess in my eyes, and my friends in Sussex say 
 that I excel in the pursuit. I have a great many orders, and they multiply. 
 
 Now, let me entreat you to give me orders to furnish every accommoda- 
 tion in my power to receive you and Mrs. Butts. I know, my cottage is 
 too narrow for your ease and comfort. We have one room in which we could 
 make a bed to lodge you both ; and if this is sufficient, it is at your service. 
 But as beds and rooms and accommodations are easily procured by one on 
 the spot, permit me to offer my service in either way ; either in my cottage, or 
 in a lodging in the village, as is most agreeable to you, if you and Mrs. Butts 
 should think Bognor a pleasant relief from business in the summer. It will 
 give me the utmost delight to do my best. 
 
 Sussex is certainly a happy place, and Felphani in particular is the 
 sweetest spot on earth j at least it is so to me and my good wife, who desires 
 her kindest love to Mrs. Butts and yourself. Accept mine also, and believe 
 me to remain 
 
 Your devoted 
 
 William Blake. 
 Sept. 11, 1801. 
 
 My dear Sir, 
 
 I hope you will continue to excuse my want of steady perseverance, 
 by which want I am still your debtor, and you so much my creditor ; but 
 such as I can be, I will : I can be grateful, and I can soon send you some 
 of your designs which I have nearly completed. In the meantime, by 
 my sister's hands, I transmit to Mrs. Butts an attempt at your likeness, 
 which, I hope, she who is the best judge will think like. Time flies faster 
 (as seems to me here) than in London. I labour incessantly, and accomplish 
 not one-half of what I intend, because my abstract folly hurries me often 
 away while I am at work, carrying me over mountains and valleys which 
 are not real, in a land of abstraction where spectres of the dead wander. 
 This I endeavour to prevent, and with my whole might chain my feet to 
 the world of duty and reality. But in vain ! the faster I bind, the better 
 is the ballast ; for I, so far from being bound down, take the world with 
 me in my flights, and often it seems lighter than a ball of wool rolled by 
 the wind. Bacon and Newton would prescribe ways of making the world 
 heavier to me, and Pitt would prescribe distress for a medicinal potion. 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 183 
 
 But as none on earth, can give me mental distress, and I know that all 
 distress inflicted by Heaven is a mercy, a fig for all corporeal ! Such distress 
 is my mock and scorn. Alas ! wretched, happy, ineffectual labourer of 
 Time's moments that I am ! who shall deliver me from this spirit of 
 abstraction and improvidence 1 Such, my dear Sir, is the truth of my state, 
 and I tell it you in palliation of my seeming neglect of your most pleasant 
 orders. But I have not neglected them • and yet a year is rolled over, and 
 only now I approach the prospect of sending you some, which you may 
 expect soon. I should have sent them by my sister ; but, as the coach goes 
 three times a week to London, and they will arrive as safe as with her, I 
 shall have an opportunity of enclosing several together which are not yet 
 completed. I thank you again and again for your generous forbearance, of 
 which I have need ; and now I must express my wishes to see you at Felpham, 
 and to show you Mr. Hay ley's library, which is still unfinished, but is in a 
 finishing way and looks well. I ought also to mention my extreme disap- 
 pointment at Mr. Johnson's forgetfulness, who appointed to call on you 
 but did not. He is also a happy abstract, known by all his friends as the 
 most innocent forgetter of his own interests. He is nephew to the late Mr. 
 Cowper, the poet. You would like him much. I continue painting minia- 
 tures, and I improve more and more as all my friends tell me. But my 
 principal labour at this time is engraving plates for Confers Life, a work 
 of magnitude, which Mr. Hayley is now labouring with all his matchless 
 industry, and which will be a most valuable acquisition to literature, not 
 only on account of Mr. Hayley's composition, but also as it will contain 
 letters of Cowper to his friends — perhaps, or rather certainly, the very best 
 letters that ever were published. 
 
 My wife joins with me in love to you and Mrs. Butts, hoping that her 
 joy is now increased, and yours also, in an increase of family and of health 
 and happiness. 
 
 I remain, dear Sir, 
 
 Ever yours sincerely, 
 
 William Blake. 
 
 Felpham Cottage, of cottages the prettiest, 
 September 11, 1801. 
 
 Next time I have the happiness to see you, I am determined to paint 
 another portrait of you from life in my best manner, for memory will not 
 do in such minute operations ; for I have now discovered that without nature 
 before the painter's eye, he can never produce anything in the walks ol 
 
181 
 
 LETTEKS. 
 
 natural painting. Historical designing is one thing, and portrait-painting 
 another, and they are as distinct as any two arts can be. Happy would 
 that man be who could unite them ! 
 
 p.S, — Please to remember our best respects to Mr. Birch, and tell him 
 that Felpham men are the mildest of the human race. If it is the will of 
 Providence, they shall be the wisest. We hope that he will next summer 
 joke us face to face. 
 
 God bless you all ! 
 
 Felpham, January 10, 1802. 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 Your very kind and affectionate letter, and the many kind things you 
 have said in it, called upon me for an immediate answer. But it found my 
 wife and myself so ill, and my wife so very ill, that till now I have not 
 been able to do this duty. The ague and rheumatism have been almost her 
 constant enemies, which she has combated in vain almost ever since we 
 have been here, and her sickness is always my sorrow of course. But what 
 you tell me about your sight afflicted me not a little, and that about your 
 health, in another part of your letter, makes me entreat you to take due 
 care of both. It is a part of our duty to God and man to take due care 
 of His gifts ; and though we ought not think more highly of ourselves, yet 
 we ought to think as highly of ourselves as immortals ought to think. 
 
 When I came down here, I was more sanguine than I am at present ; 
 but it was because I was ignorant of many things which have since occurred, 
 and chiefly the unhealthiness of the place. Yet I do not repent of coming on 
 a thousand accounts ; and Mr. H., I doubt not, will do ultimately all that 
 both he and I wish — that is, to lift me out of difficulty. But this is no easy 
 matter to a man who, having spiritual enemies of such formidable magni- 
 tude, cannot expect to want natural hidden ones. 
 
 Your approbation of my pictures is a multitude to" me, aiad I doubt not 
 that all your kind wishes in my behalf shall in due time be fulfilled. Your 
 kind offer of pecuniary assistance I can only thank you for at present, 
 because I have enough to serve my present purpose here. Our expenses are 
 small, and our income, from our incessant labour, fully adequate to these at 
 present. I am now engaged in engraving six small plates for a new edition 
 of Mr. Hayley's Triumphs of Temper, from drawings by Maria Flaxman, 
 sister to my friend the sculptor. And it seems that other things will follow 
 in course, if I do but copy these well. But patience ! If great things do 
 not turn out, it is because such things depend on the spiritual and not on 
 the natural world ; and if it was fit for me, I doubt not that I should be 
 
LETTEES. 
 
 185 
 
 employed in greater things ; and when it is proper, my talents shall he 
 properly exercised in public, as I hope they are now in private. For till 
 then I leave no stone unturned, and no path unexplored that leads to 
 improvement in my beloved arts. One thing of real consequence I have 
 accomplished by coming into the country, which is to me consolation enough : 
 namely, I have re-collected all my scattered thoughts on art, and resumed 
 my primitive and original ways of execution in both painting and engraving, 
 which in the confusion of London I had very much lost and obliterated 
 from my mind. But whatever becomes of my labours, I would rather that 
 they should be preserved in your greenhouse (not, as you mistakenly call 
 it, dunghill) than in the cold gallery of fashion. The sun may yet shine, 
 and then they will be brought into open air. 
 
 But you have so generously and openly desired that I will divide my 
 griefs with you that I cannot hide what it has now become my dirty to 
 explain. My unhappiness has arisen from a source which, if explored too 
 narrowly, might hurt my pecuniary circumstances ; as my dependence is on 
 engraving at present, and particularly on the engravings I have in hand for 
 Mr. H., and I find on all hands great objections to my doing anything but 
 the mere drudgery of business, and intimations that, if I do not confine myself 
 to this, I shall not live. This has always pursued me. You will under- 
 stand by this the source of all my uneasiness. This from Johnson and Fuseli 
 brought me down here, and this from Mr. H. will bring me back again. For 
 that I cannot live without doing my duty to lay up treasures in heaven is 
 certain and determined, and to this I have long made up my mind. And 
 why this should be made an objection to me, while drunkenness, lewdness, 
 gluttony, and even idleness itself, does not hurt other men, let Satan himself 
 explain. The thing I have most at heart — more than life, or all that seems 
 to make life comfortable without — is the interest of true religion and science. 
 And whenever anything appears to affect that interest (especially if I myself 
 omit any duty to my station as a soldier of Christ), it gives me the greatest of 
 torments. I am not ashamed, afraid, or averse to tell you what ought to be 
 told — that I am under the direction of messengers from heaven, daily and 
 nightly. But the nature of such things is not, as some suppose, without 
 trouble or care. Temptations are on the right hand and on the left. Be- 
 hind, the sea of time and space roars and follows swiftly. He who keeps not 
 right onwards is lost ; and if our footsteps slide in clay, how can we do other- 
 wise than fear and tremble 1 But I should not have troubled you with this 
 account of my spiritual state, unless it had been necessary in explaining the 
 actual cause of my uneasiness, into which you are so kind as to inquire : for I 
 
186 
 
 LETTEKS. 
 
 never obtrude such things on others unless questioned, and then I never dis- 
 guise the truth. But if we fear to do the dictates of our angels, and tremble 
 at the tasks set before us ; if we refuse to do spiritual acts because of natural 
 fears or natural desires ; who can describe the dismal torments of such a 
 state ! — I too well remember the threats I heard ! — ' If you, who are organized 
 1 by Divine Providence for spiritual communion, refuse, and bury your talent 
 ' in the earth, even though you should want natural bread, — sorrow and 
 ' desperation pursue you through life, and after death shame and confusion 
 ' of face to eternity. Every one in eternity will leave you, aghast at the man 
 ' who was crowned with glory and honour by his brethren, and betrayed 
 i their cause to their enemies. You will be called the base Judas who betrayed 
 ' his friend ! ' — Such words would make any stout man tremble, and how 
 then could I be at ease 1 But I am now no longer in that state, and now go 
 on again with my task, fearless though my path is difficult. I have no fear 
 of stumbling while I keep it. 
 
 My wife desires her kindest love to Mrs. Butts, and I have permitted 
 her to send it to you also. "We often wish that we could unite again in 
 society, and hope that the time is not distant when we shall do so, being 
 determined not to remain another winter here, but to return to London. 
 
 I hear a Voice you cannot hear, that says I must not stay, 
 I see a Hand you cannot see, that beckons me away. 
 
 Naked we came here — naked of natural things — and naked we shall return : 
 but while clothed with the Divine mercy, we are richly clothed in spiritual, 
 and suffer all the rest gladly. Pray, give my love to Mrs. Butts and your 
 family. 
 
 I am yours sincerely, 
 
 William Blake. 
 
 p.S. — Your obliging proposal of exhibiting my two pictures likewise 
 calls for my thanks ; I will finish the others, and then we shall judge of the 
 matter with certainty. 
 
 Felpkam, Nov. 22, 1802. 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 My brother tells me that he fears you are offended with me. I fear 
 so too, because there appears some reason why you might be so. But when 
 you have heard me out, you will not be so. 
 
 I have now given two years to the intense study of those parts of the 
 art which relate to light and shade and colour, and am convinced that 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 187 
 
 either my understanding is incapable of comprehending the "beauties of 
 colouring, or the pictures which I painted for you are equal in every part 
 of the art, and superior in one, to anything that has been done since the age 
 of Raphael. All Sir J. Reynolds' Discourses to the Royal Academy will 
 show that the Venetian finesse in art can never be united with the majesty 
 of colouring necessary to historical beauty ; and in a letter to the Eev. Mr. 
 Gilpin, author of a work on Picturesque Scenery, he says thus : — ' It may be 
 ' worth consideration whether the epithet picturesque is not applicable to 
 ' the excellences . of the inferior schools rather than to the higher. The 
 1 works of Michael Angelo, Eaphael, &c. appear to me to have nothing of 
 ' it : whereas Rubens and the Venetian painters may almost be said to have 
 ' nothing else. Perhaps picturesque is somewhat synonymous to the word 
 ' taste, which we should think improperly applied to Homer or Milton, but 
 ' very well to Prior or Pope. I suspect that the application of these words 
 ' is to excellences of an inferior order, and which are incompatible with 
 ' the grand style. You are certainly right in saying that variety of tints 
 ' and forms is picturesque ; but it must be remembered, on the other hand, 
 ' that the reverse of this (uniformity of colour and a long continuation of 
 1 lines) produces grandeur.' So says Sir Joshua, and so say I ; for I have 
 now proved that the parts of the art which I neglected to display, in those 
 little pictures and drawings which I had the pleasure and profit to do for 
 you, are incompatible with the designs. There is nothing in the art which 
 our painters do that I can confess myself ignorant of. I also know and 
 understand, and can assuredly affirm, that the works I have done for you are 
 equal to the Caracci or Raphael (and I am now some years older than 
 Raphael was when he died). I say they are equal to Caracci or Raphael, 
 or else I am blind, stupid, ignorant, and incapable, in two years' study, to 
 understand those things which a boarding-school miss can comprehend in a 
 fortnight. Be assured, my dear friend, that there is not one touch in those 
 drawings and pictures but what came from my head and my heart in 
 unison ; that I am proud of being their author, and grateful to you my 
 employer ; and that I look upon you as the chief of my friends whom I 
 would endeavour to please, because you, among all men, have enabled me 
 to produce these things. I would not send you a drawing or a picture till I 
 had again reconsidered my notions of art, and had put myself back as if 
 I was a learner. I have proved that I am right, and shall now go on with 
 the vigour I was in my childhood famous for. But I do not pretend to be 
 perfect ; yet, if my works have faults, Caracci's, Correggio's, and Raphael's 
 have faults also. Let me observe that the yellow-leather flesh of old men, 
 
188 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 the ill-drawn and ugly young women, and above all, the daubed black and 
 yellow shadows that are found in most fine, ay, and the finest pictures, 
 I altogether reject as ruinous to effect, though connoisseurs may think 
 otherwise. 
 
 Let me also notice that Caracci's pictures are not like Correggio's, nor 
 Correggio's like Eaphael's ; and, if neither of them was to be encouraged 
 till he did like any of the others, he must die without encouragement. My 
 pictures are unlike any of these painters, and I would have them to be so. 
 I think the manner I adopt more perfect than any other. No doubt they 
 thought the same of theirs. You will be tempted to think that, as I 
 improve, the pictures, &c. that I did for you are not what I would now 
 wish them to be. On this I beg to say that they are what I intended them, 
 and that I know I never shall do better ; for, if I were to do them over again, 
 they would lose as much as they gained, because they were done in the heat 
 of my spirit. 
 
 But you will justly inquire why I have not written all this time to you. 
 I answer I have been very unhappy, and could not think of troubling you 
 about it, or any of my real friends (I have written many letters to you 
 which I burned and did not send). And why I have not before now 
 finished the miniature I promised to Mrs. Butts 1 I answer I have not till 
 now in any degree pleased myself, and now I must entreat you to excuse 
 faults, for portrait-painting is the direct contrary to designing and historical 
 painting in every respect. If you have not nature before you for every 
 touch, you cannot paint portrait; and if you have nature before you at 
 all, you cannot paint history. It was Michael Angelo's opinion and is mine. 
 Pray give my wife's love with mine to Mrs. Butts. Assure her that it 
 cannot be long before I have the pleasure of painting from you in person, 
 and then that she may expect a likeness. But now I have done all I could, 
 and know she will forgive any failure in consideration of the endeavour. 
 And now let me finish with assuring you that, though I have been very 
 unhappy, I am so no longer. I am again emerged into the light of day ; 
 I still and shall to eternity embrace Christianity, and adore Him who is the 
 express image of God ; but I have travelled through perils and darkness 
 not unlike a champion. I have conquered and shall go on conquering. 
 Nothing can withstand the fury of my course among the stars of God 
 and in the abysses of the accuser. My enthusiasm is still what it was, 
 only enlarged and confirmed. 
 
 I now send two pictures, and hope you will approve of them. I have 
 inclosed the account of money received and work done, which I ought long 
 
LETTEKS. 
 
 189 
 
 ago to have sent you. Pray forgive errors in omission of this kind. I am 
 incapable of many attentions which it is my duty to observe towards you, 
 through multitude of employment, and through hope of soon seeing you 
 again. I often omit to inquire of you, but pray let me now hear how you 
 do, and of the welfare of your family. 
 Accept my sincere love and respect. 
 
 I remain yours sincerely, 
 
 William Blake. 
 
 A piece of seaweed serves for barometer, and gets wet and dry as the 
 weather gets so. 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 After I had finished my letter, I found that I had not said half what 
 I intended to say, and in particular I wish to ask you what subject you 
 choose to be painted on the remaining canvas which I brought down with 
 me (for there were three), and to tell you that several of the drawings were 
 in great forwardness. You will see by the inclosed account that the 
 remaining number of drawings which you gave me orders for is eighteen. 
 I will finish these with all possible expedition, if indeed I have not tired 
 you, or, as it is politely called, bored you too much already ; or, if you would 
 rather, cry out, Enough, off, off ! Tell me in a letter of forgiveness if you 
 were offended, and of accustomed friendship if you were not. But I will 
 bore you more with some verses which my wife desires me to copy out and 
 send you with her kind love and respect. They were composed above 
 a twelvemonth ago, while walking from Telpham to Lavant, to meet my 
 sister : — 
 
 With happiness stretched across the hills, 
 In a cloud that dewy sweetness distils, 
 With a blue sky spread over with wings, 
 And a mild sun that mounts and sings ; 
 With trees and fields, full of fairy elves, 
 And little devils who fight for themselves, 
 Remembering the verses that Hayley sung 
 When my heart knock'd against the root of my tongue, 
 With angels planted in hawthorn bowers, 
 And God Himself in the passing hours ; 
 With silver angels across my way, 
 * And golden demons that none can stay; 
 With my father hovering upon the wind, 
 And my brother Robert just behind, 
 And my brother John, the evil one, 
 
LETTEKS. 
 
 In a black cloud making his moan ; 
 
 Though dead, they appear upon my path, 
 
 Notwithstanding my terrible wrath : 
 
 They beg, they entreat, they drop their tear?, 
 
 Fill'd full of hopes, fill'd full of fears ; 
 
 With a thousand angels upon the wind, 
 
 Pouring disconsolate from behind 
 
 To drive them off, and before my w T ay 
 
 A frowning Thistle implores my stay. 
 
 What to others a trifle appears 
 
 Fills me full of smiles or tears ; 
 
 For double the vision my eyes do see, 
 
 And a double vision is always with me. 
 
 With my inward eye, 'tis an old man grey ; 
 
 With my outward, a thistle across my way. 
 
 1 If thou goest back/ the Thistle said, 
 
 ' Thou art to endless woe betray'd ; 
 
 1 For here does Theotormon lower, 
 
 ' And here is Enitharmon's bower, 
 
 ( And Los the Terrible thus hath sworn, 
 
 e Because thou backward dost return, 
 
 1 Poverty, envy, old age, and fear, 
 
 < Shall bring thy wife upon a bier. 
 
 ' And Butts shall give what Fuseli gave, 
 
 c A dark black rock, and a gloomy cave.' 
 
 I struck the thistle with my foot, 
 
 And broke him up from his delving root; 
 
 ' Must the duties of life each other cross ? 
 
 ' Must every joy be dung and dross ? 
 
 ' Must my dear Butts feel cold neglect 
 
 c Because I give Hayley his due respect ? 
 
 4 Must Flaxman look upon me as wild, 
 
 1 And all my friends be with doubts beguil'd ? 
 
 f Must my wife live in my sister's bane, 
 
 4 Or my sister survive on my Love's pain ? 
 
 1 The curses of Los, the terrible shade, 
 
 ' And his dismal terrors make me afraid.' 
 
 So I spoke, and struck in my wrath 
 
 The old man weltering upon my path 
 
 Then Los appeared in all his power : 
 
 In the sun he appeared, descending before 
 
 My face in fierce flames ; in my double sight, 
 
 'Twas outward a sun, — inward, Los in his might. 
 
 ' My hands are labour'd day and night, 
 
 ' And ease comes never in my sight. 
 
 4 My wife has no indulgence given, 
 
LETTEES. 
 
 191 
 
 1 Except what comes to her from heaven. 
 
 ' We eat little, we drink less ; 
 
 1 This earth breeds not our happiness. 
 
 e Another sun feeds our life's streams ; 
 
 ( We are not warmed with thy beams. 
 
 ' Thou measurest not the time to me, 
 
 ' Nor yet the space that I do see : 
 
 ■ My mind is not with thy light array'd ; 
 
 ' Thy terrors shall not make me afraid.' 
 
 When I had my defiance given, 
 The sun stood trembling in heaven; 
 The moon, that glow'd remote below, 
 Became leprous and white as snow ; 
 And every soul of man on the earth 
 Felt affliction, and sorrow, and sickness, and dearth. 
 Los flam'd in my path, and the sun was hot 
 With the bows of my mind and the arrows of thought : 
 My bowstring fierce with ardour breathes, 
 My arrows glow in their golden sheaves ; 
 My brother and father march before, 
 The heavens drop with human gore. 
 
 Now I a fourfold vision see 
 And a fourfold vision is given to me ; 
 'Tis fourfold in my supreme delight, 
 And threefold in soft Beulah's night, 
 And twofold always. May God us keep 
 From single vision, and Newton's sleep ! 
 
 I also enclose you some ballads by Mr. Hayley, with prints to them 
 by your humble servant. I should have sent them before now, but could 
 not get anything done for you to please myself ; for I do assure you that 
 I have truly studied the two little pictures I now send, and do not repent of 
 the time I have spent upon them. 
 
 God bless you ! 
 
 Yours, 
 
 W. B. 
 
 P.S. — I have taken the liberty to trouble you with a letter to my 
 brother, which you will be so kind as to send or give him, and oblige 
 yours, W. B. 
 
 April 25, 1803. 
 
 My dear Sir, 
 
 I write in haste, having received a pressing letter from my Brother. 
 I intended to have sent the Picture of the Eiposo, which is nearly finished 
 
192 
 
 LETTEES. 
 
 much, to my satisfaction, but not quite. You shall have it soon. I now send 
 the four numbers for Mr. Birch with best respects to him. The reason 
 the Ballads have been suspended is the pressure of other business, but 
 they will go on again soon. 
 
 Accept of my thanks for your kind and heartening letter. You have 
 faith in the endeavours of me, your weak brother and fellow-disciple ; how 
 great must be your faith in our Divine Master ! You are to me a lesson 
 of humility, while you exalt me by such distinguishing commendations. T 
 know that you see certain merits in me, which, by God's grace, shall be 
 made fully apparent and perfect in Eternity. In the meantime I must not 
 bury the talents in the earth, but do my endeavour to live to the glory 
 of our Lord and Saviour ; and I am also grateful to the kind hand that 
 endeavours to lift me out of despondency, even if it lifts me too high. 
 
 And now, my dear Sir, congratulate me on my return to London with 
 the full approbation of Mr. Hayley and with promise. But alas ! now I 
 may say to you — what perhaps I should not dare to say to any one else — that 
 I can alone carry on my visionary studies in London unannoyed, and that 
 I may converse with my friends in Eternity, see visions, dream dreams, 
 and prophecy and speak parables, unobserved, and at liberty from the doubts 
 of other mortals : perhaps doubts proceeding from kindness ; but doubts 
 are always pernicious, especially when we doubt our friends. Christ is very 
 decided on this point : ' He who is not with me is against me.' There is 
 no medium or middle state; and if a man is the enemy of my spiritual 
 life while he pretends to be the friend of my corporeal, he is a real enemy ; 
 but the man may be the friend of my spiritual life while he seems the 
 enemy of my corporeal, though not vice versa. 
 
 What is very pleasant, every one who hears of my going to London 
 again applauds it as the only course for the interest of all concerned in my 
 works ; observing that I ought not to be away from the opportunities 
 London affords of seeing fine pictures, and the various improvements in 
 works of art going on in London. 
 
 But none can know the spiritual acts of my three years' slumber on the 
 banks of Ocean, unless he has seen them in the spirit, or unless he should 
 read my long Poem* descriptive of those acts ; for I have in these years 
 composed an immense number of verses on one grand theme, similar to 
 Homer's Iliad or Milton's Paradise Lost; the persons and machinery 
 entirely new to the inhabitants of earth (some of the persons excepted). I 
 have written this Poem from immediate dictation, twelve or sometimes 
 
 (* The Jerusalem.) 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 393 
 
 twenty or thirty lines at a time, without premeditation, and even 
 against my will. The time it has taken in writing was thus rendered non- 
 existent, and an immense Poem exists which seems to be the labour of a 
 long life, all produced without labour or study. I mention this to show 
 you what I think the grand reason of my being brought down here. 
 
 I have a thousand and ten thousand things to say to you. My heart is 
 full of futurity. I perceive that the sore travail which has been given me 
 these three years leads to glory and honour. I rejoice and tremble : ' I 
 am fearfully and wonderfully made.' I had been reading the CXXXIX. 
 Psalm a little before your letter arrived. I take your advice. I see the 
 face of my Heavenly Father : He lays His hand upon my head, and gives 
 a blessing to all my work. Why should I be troubled 1 Why should my 
 heart and flesh cry out ? I will go on in the strength of the Lord ; through 
 Hell will I sing forth His praises : that the dragons of the deep may praise 
 Him, and that those who dwell in darkness, and in the sea coasts, may be 
 gathered into His kingdom. Excuse my perhaps too great enthusiasm. 
 Please to accept of and give our loves to Mrs. Butts and your amiable 
 family, and believe me Ever yours affectionately, 
 
 William Blake. 
 
 Felpham, July 6, 1803. 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 I send you the Eiposo, which I hope you will think my best picture 
 in many respects. It represents the Holy Eamily in Egypt, guarded in 
 their repose from those fiends the Egyptian gods. And though not directly 
 taken from a Poem of Milton's (for till I had designed it Milton's Poem 
 did not come into my thoughts), yet it is very similar to his Hymn on the 
 Nativity, which you will find among his smaller Poems, and will read with 
 great delight. I have given in the background a building, which may be sup- 
 posed the ruin of a part of Mmrod's Tower, which I conjecture to have spread 
 over many countries ; for he ought to be reckoned of the Giant brood. 
 
 I have now on the stocks the following drawings for you : — 1. Jephthah 
 sacrificing his Daughter ; 2. Euth and her Mother-in-law and Sister ; 3. The 
 Three Maries at the Sepulchre ; 4. The Death of Joseph ; 5. The Death of 
 the Virgin Mary ; 6. St. Paul preaching ; and 7. The Angel of the Divine 
 Presence clothing Adam and Eve with coats of skins. 
 
 These are all in great forwardness, and I am satisfied that I improve 
 very much, and shall continue to do so while I live, which is a blessing I 
 can never be too thankful for both to God and man. 
 
 We look forward every day with pleasure toward our meeting again in 
 VOL. II. 0 
 
194 
 
 LETTEES. 
 
 London with those whom we have learned to value by absence no less 
 perhaps than we did by presence; for recollection often surpasses every- 
 thing. Indeed, the prospect of returning to our friends is supremely 
 delightful. Then I am determined that Mrs. Butts shall have a good 
 likeness of you, if I have hands and eyes left ; for I am become a likeness- 
 taker, and succeed admirably well. But this is not to be achieved without 
 the original sitting before you for every touch, all likenesses from memory 
 being necessarily very, very defective ; but Nature and Taney are two things, 
 and can never be joined, neither ought any one to attempt it, for it is 
 idolatry, and destroys the SouL 
 
 I ought to tell you that Mr. H. is quite agreeable to our return, and 
 that there is all the appearance in the world of our being fully employed in 
 engraving for his projected works, particularly Cowper's Milton — a work now 
 on foot by subscription, and I understand that the subscription goes on 
 briskly. This work is to be a very elegant one, and to consist of all 
 Milton's Poems with Cowper's Notes, and translations by Gowper from 
 Milton's Latin and Italian Poems. These works will be ornamented with 
 engravings from designs by Eomney, Plaxman, and your humble servant, 
 and to be engraved also by the last-mentioned. The profits of the work 
 are intended to be appropriated to erect a monument to the memory of 
 Cowper in St. Paul's or Westminster Abbey. Such is the project ; and Mr. 
 Addington and Mr. Pitt are both among the subscribers, which are already 
 numerous and of the first rank. The price of the work is six guineas. 
 Thus I hope that all our three years' trouble ends in good-luck at last, and 
 shall be forgot by my affections, and only remembered by my understanding, 
 to be a memento in time to come, and to speak to future generations by a 
 sublime allegory, which is now perfectly completed into a grand Poem. I 
 may praise it, since I dare not pretend to be any other than the secretary ; 
 the authors are in Eternity. I consider it as the grandest Poem that this 
 world contains. Allegory addressed to the intellectual powers, while it is 
 altogether hidden from the corporeal understanding, is my definition of the 
 most sublime Poetry. It is also somewhat in the same manner defined by 
 Plato. This Poem shall, by Divine assistance, be progressively printed and 
 ornamented with prints, and given to the Public. But of this work I 
 take care to say little to Mr. H., since he is as much averse to my Poetry 
 as he is to a chapter in the Bible. He knows that I have writ it, for I have 
 shown it to him, and he has read part by his own desire, and has looked 
 with sufficient contempt to enhance my opinion of it. But I do not wish 
 to imitate by seeming too obstinate in poetic pursuits. But if all the world 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 195 
 
 should set their faces against this, I have orders to set my face like a 
 flint (Ezekiel iii. 8.) against their faces, and my forehead against their 
 foreheads. 
 
 As to Mr. H., I feel myself at liberty to say as follows upon this 
 ticklish subject. I regard fashion in Poetry as little as I do in Painting : 
 so, if both Poets and Painters should alternately dislike (but I know the 
 majority of them will not), I am not to regard it at all. But Mr. H. 
 approves of my Designs as little as he does of my Poems, and I have been 
 forced to insist on his leaving me, in both, to my own self-will ; for I am 
 determined to be no longer pestered with his genteel ignorance and polite 
 disapprobation. I know myself both Poet and Painter, and it is not his 
 affected contempt that can move to anything but a more assiduous pursuit 
 of both arts. Indeed, by my late firmness, I have brought down his 
 affected loftiness, and he begins to think I have some genius : as if genius 
 and assurance were the same thing ! But his imbecile attempts to depress 
 me only deserve laughter. I say thus much to you, knowing that you will 
 not make a bad use of it. But it is a fact too true that, if I had only 
 depended on mortal things, both myself and my wife must have been 
 lost. I shall leave every one in this country astonished at my patience 
 and forbearance of injuries upon injuries ; and I do assure you that, if 
 I could have returned to London a month after my arrival here, I should 
 have done so. But I was commanded by my spiritual friends to bear all 
 and be silent, and to go through all without murmuring, and, in fine, [to] 
 hope till my three years should be almost accomplished ; at which time I 
 was set at liberty to remonstrate against former conduct, and to demand 
 justice and truth; which I have done in so effectual a manner that my 
 antagonist is silenced completely, and I have compelled what should have 
 been of freedom — my just right as an artist and as a man. And if any 
 attempt should be made to refuse me this I am inflexible, and will relinquish 
 any engagement of designing at all, unless altogether left to my own 
 judgment, as you, my dear friend, have always left me ; for which I shall 
 never cease to honour and respect you. 
 
 When we meet, I will perfectly describe to you my conduct and the 
 conduct of others towards me, and you will see that I have laboured hard 
 indeed, and have been borne on angels' wings. Till we meet I beg of God 
 our Saviour to be with you and me, and yours and mine. Pray give my and 
 my wife's love to Mrs. Butts and family, and believe me to remain 
 
 Yours in truth and sincerity, 
 
 William Blake. 
 
 0 2 
 
196 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 Felpham, August 16, 1803. 
 
 Dear Sir/ 
 
 I send seven Drawings, which I hope will please you. This, I believe, 
 about balances our account. Our return to London draws on apace. Our 
 expectation of meeting again with you is one of our greatest pleasures. Pray 
 tell me how your eyes do. I never sit down to work but I think of you, 
 and feel anxious for the sight of that friend whose eyes have done me so 
 much good. I omitted, very unaccountably, to copy out in my last letter 
 that passage in my rough sketch, which related to your kindness in offering 
 to exhibit my two last pictures in the Gallery in Berners-street. It was in 
 these words : ' I sincerely thank you for your kind offer of exhibiting my two 
 ' pictures. The trouble you take on my account, I trust, will be recompensed 
 ' to you by Him who seeth in secret. If you should find it convenient to do 
 'so, it will be gratefully remembered by me among the other numerous 
 - kindnesses I have received from you.' 
 
 I go on with the remaining subjects which you gave me commission to 
 execute for you; but I shall not be able to send any more before my return, 
 though, perhaps, I may bring some with me finished. I am at present in a 
 bustle to defend myself against a very unwarrantable warrant from a justice 
 of peace in Chichester, which was taken out against me by a private in 
 Captain Leathes' troop of 1st or Eoyal Dragoons, for an assault and sedi- 
 tious words. The wretched man has terribly perjured himself, as has his 
 comrade ; for, as to sedition, not one word relating to the King or Government 
 was spoken by either him or me. His enmity arises from my having turned 
 him out of my garden, into which he was invited as an assistant by a 
 gardener at work therein, without my knowledge that he was so invited. I 
 desired him, as politely as possible, to go out of the garden ; he made me 
 an impertinent answer. I insisted on his leaving the garden ; he refused. I 
 still persisted in desiring his departure. He then threatened to knock out 
 my eyes, with many abominable imprecations, and with some contempt 
 for my person ; it affronted my foolish pride. I therefore took him by the 
 elbows, and pushed him before me till I had got him out. There I intended 
 to have left him ; but he, turning about, put himself into a posture of defiance, 
 threatening and swearing at me. I, perhaps foolishly and perhaps not, 
 stepped out at the gate, and, putting aside his blows, took him again by the 
 elbows, and, keeping his back to me, pushed him forward down the road 
 about fifty yards— he all the while endeavouring to turn round and strike me, 
 
LETTEES. 197 
 
 and raging and cursing, which drew out several neighbours. At length, when 
 I had got him to where he was quartered, which was very quickly done, we 
 were met at the gate by the master of the house — the Fox Inn — (who is the 
 proprietor of my cottage) and his wife and daughter, and the man's comrade, 
 and several other people. My landlord compelled the soldiers to go indoors, 
 after many abusive threats against me and my wife from the two soldiers ; but 
 not one word of threat on account of sedition was uttered at that time. This 
 method of revenge was planned between them after they had got together 
 into the stable. This is the whole outline. I have for witnesses : — 
 the gardener, who is ostler at the Fox, and who evidences that to his 
 knowledge no word of the remotest tendency to Government or sedition 
 was uttered; our next-door neighbour, a miller's wife (who saw me turn 
 him before me down the road, and saw and heard all that happened 
 at the gate of the inn), who evidences that no expression of threatening on 
 account of sedition was uttered in the heat of their fury by either of the 
 dragoons. This was the woman's own remark, and does high honour to her 
 good sense, as she observes that, whenever a quarrel happens, the offence is 
 always repeated. The landlord of the inn and his wife and daughter will 
 evidence the same, and will evidently prove the comrade perjured, who swore 
 
 that he heard me, while at the gate, utter seditious words, and d the 
 
 K , without which perjury I could not have been committed, and I 
 
 had no witnesses with me before the justices who could combat his assertion, 
 as the gardener remained in my garden all the while, and he was the only 
 person I thought necessary to take with me. I have been before a bench of 
 justices at Chichester this morning ; but they, as the lawyer who wrote down 
 the accusation told me in private, are compelled by the military to suffer a 
 prosecution to be entered into, although they must know, and it is manifest, 
 that the whole is a fabricated perjury. I have been forced to find bail. Mr. 
 Hayley was kind enough to come forward, and Mr. Seagrave, printer at 
 Chichester ; Mr. H. in £100, and Mr. S. in £50, and myself am bound in 
 £100 for my appearance at the quarter-sessions, which is after Michaelmas. 
 So I shall have the satisfaction to see my friends in town before this con- 
 temptible business comes on. I say contemptible, for it must be manifest to 
 every one that the whole accusation is a wilful perjury. Thus you see, my 
 dear friend, that I cannot leave this place without some adventure. It has 
 struck a consternation through all the villages round. Every man is now 
 afraid of speaking to, or looking at, a soldier : for the peaceable villagers 
 have always been forward in expressing their kindness for us, and they 
 express their sorrow at our departure as soon as they hear of it. Every one 
 
198 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 here is my evidence for peace and good neighbourhood ; and yet, such is the 
 present state of things, this foolish accusation must be tried in public. Well, 
 I am content, I murmur not, and doubt not that I shall receive justice, and 
 am only sorry for the trouble and expense. I have heard that my accuser 
 is a disgraced sergeant : his name is John Scholfield. Perhaps it will be in 
 your power to learn somewhat about the man. I am very ignorant of what 
 I am requesting of you ; I only suggest what I know you will be kind enough 
 to excuse if you can learn nothing about him, and what I as well know, if it 
 is possible, you will be kind enough to do in this matter. 
 
 Dear Sir, this perhaps was suffered to clear up some doubts, and to give 
 opportunity to those whom I doubted to clear themselves of all imputa- 
 tion. If a man offends me ignorantly, and not designedly, surely I ought to 
 consider him with favour and affection. Perhaps the simplicity of myself is 
 the origin of all offences committed against me. If I have found this, I shall 
 have learned a most valuable thing, well worth three years' perseverance. I 
 have found it. It is certain that a too passive manner, inconsistent with my 
 active physiognomy, had done me much mischief. I must now express to 
 you my conviction that all is come from the spiritual world for good and not 
 for evil. 
 
 Give me your advice in my perilous adventure. Burn what I have 
 peevishly written about any friend. I have been very much degraded and 
 injuriously treated ; but if it all arise from my own fault, I ought to blame 
 myself. 
 
 0 why was I born with a different face 1 
 Why was I not born like the rest of my race? 
 When I look, each one starts j when I speak, I offeud ; 
 Then I'm silent and passive, and lose every friend. 
 
 Then my verse I dishonour, my pictures despise ; 
 My person degrade, and my temper chastise; 
 And the pen is my terror, the pencil my shame; 
 All my talents I bury, and dead is my fame. 
 
 1 am either too low or too highly priz'd ; 
 When elate I'm envy'd, when meek I'm despis'd. 
 
 This is but too just a picture of my present state. I pray God to keep 
 you and all men from it, and to deliver me in His own good time. Pray 
 write to me, and tell me how you and your family enjoy health. My much- 
 terrified wife joins me in love to you and Mrs. Butts and all your family. 
 I again take the liberty to beg of you to cause the enclosed letter to be deli- 
 vered to my brother, and remain sincerely and affectionately 
 
 Yours, William Blake. 
 
[The ensuing Descriptive Catalogue — a humble tribute to the soaring genius of the 
 author of the ' Descriptive Catalogue ' — is a complete list, as far as it has been found 
 practicable to compile one, of all Blake's original works. It takes no count of 
 engravings ; though it does include the works issued as separate designs in Blake's 
 peculiar method of colour-printing. The term 'colour-printed' in the Catalogue 
 indicates these works ; and enough has been said on this curious question in other parts 
 of the book to absolve me from discussing it here. 
 
 The Catalogue has been compiled by me, in the very great majority of instances, 
 from immediate personal inspection of the works referred to ; to the owners of which, 
 uniformly courteous and accommodating to the utmost, my thanks are most sincerely 
 tendered. In other instances, I have been indebted to Mr. Gilchrist's notes, or to other 
 sources of information. The works which have not been thus seen, and some which, 
 from one circumstance or another, have been seen hurriedly or imperfectly, are, as an 
 unavoidable consequence, referred to in less detail than their relative importance might 
 be found to deserve. The interest attaching to the great collection of Blake's works 
 formed by his almost solitary purchaser, Mr. Butts, has induced me to specify which 
 were once his, even in the instances where they have passed out of the family. In 
 some cases, the owners have not been traced : in others, the imputed ownership has 
 probably ceased to be correct. 
 
 The larger works are roughly indicated in the catalogue ; the standard of largeness 
 for a water-colour or pencil-drawing being of course different from that for a tempera- 
 picture. Something over a foot for the former, and towards two feet for the latter, may 
 be assumed as the average minimum to which the sign of considerable size is attached ; 
 but this has been roughly, not accurately, and no doubt not always uniformly, estimated. 
 
 The reader should also bear in mind that the exact relative excellence of the several 
 works cannot be fully expressed work by work. It has already been explained elsewhere 
 that the most complete, solid, and powerful works in colour left by Blake are to be 
 found among his colour-printed designs. His water-colours are all, comparatively 
 speaking, washy and slight : but some have a general character of strength, brilliancy, 
 &c. of execution ; and these may be spoken of below, with the needful implied reserva- 
 tion, as strong and brilliant. 
 
 W. M. Rossetti.] 
 
ANNOTATED LISTS 
 
 OF 
 
 BLAKE'S PAINTINGS, DRAWINGS, AND ENGRAVINGS. 
 
 LIST No. 1. 
 
 WORKS m COLOUR. 
 
 * Means considerable size. The works not otherwise defined are known or assumed to be 
 water-colours. To designs which have been engraved the dates of the engravings or 
 books are given, unless anything is known to the contrary. 
 
 SECTION A. — DATED WORKS. 
 
 ARRANGED IN ORDER OF DATE, 
 
 %* The name of the owner of the -picture is printed between brackets f ]. 
 
 1. 1778-9. — The Penance of Jane Shore in St. Paul's Church. Varnished 
 
 Water-colour, See p. 31, Yol. I., and Blake's Descriptive Catalogue. 
 
 2. Circa 1779. — King Edward and Queen Eleanor. See pp. 30, 31. Vol. I. 
 
 3. 1780.— The Death of Earl Goodwin. See p. 34. Vol. I. 
 
 4. 1784.— War unchained by an Angel — Fire, Pestilence, and Famine 
 
 following. See p. 54. Vol. I. 
 
 5. 1784. — A Breach in a City— the Morning after a Battle. See p. 54. 
 
 Vol. I. [In Mr. Bickneli's Sale, 1863.] 
 
 The colour slight, but the tone strong and full, with the darkness of earliest 
 dawn. Women lie mourning over the heaped dead : a widow bemoaning her 
 knight, and a woman and aged man proceeding upon their search, are the chief 
 figures, the subject being prolonged far into the background. An eagle has 
 settled to the left, watching for the departure of the mourners, impatient till 
 his banquet begins. Able and impressive. (This was called, in the sale Cata- 
 logue, * The Plague : ' decidedly a mistake. ) 
 
202 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WORKS. 
 
 6. 1785.— The Bard, from Gray. Tempera. See p. 56. Vol. I. 
 
 7. 1785. — Joseph's Brethren bowing before him. [Mr. J. D. Coleridge.] 
 
 Seep. 56. Vol. I. 
 
 The colour does not play any very considerable part in this and the two 
 companion designs. The brothers form a grand, sheaf-like group. 
 
 8. 1785. — Joseph ordering Simeon to be bound. [Mr. J. D. Coleridge.] 
 
 See preceding No. and p. 56. Vol. I. 
 
 9. 1785. — Joseph making himself known to his Brethren. [Mr. J. D. 
 
 Coleridge.] 
 
 Remarkable for its bursting spontaneity of emotion. The figure of Joseph 
 is especially pure and impulsive. (Nos. 7, 8, and 9 appeared in the Inter- 
 national Exhibition. ) 
 
 10. 1790. — ' Death and Hell teem with life.' [Mrs. Alex. Gilchrist.] 
 
 Carefully finished : engraved in the ' Marriage of Heaven and Hell,' leaf 10. 
 
 11. 1793. — A Young Man gazing remorsefully upon another bound upon 
 
 a rock. [Mr. Linnell.] 
 
 Similar to the head-piece of the 1 America, ' but without the female figure, 
 and a good deal larger. Darkish tone of colouring. 
 
 12. 1793. — Design for the Frontispiece to the 'Daughters of Albion.' 
 
 [Mr. Linnell.] 
 Excellent in colour. 
 
 13. 1793 or 1795. — ^Nebuchadnezzar. [Captain Butts.] Colour-printed. 
 
 Crawling on all fours in his shaggy insanity. The tawny beard trails across 
 the left hand : the nails are literally 'like birds' claws,' and the flesh tints 
 very red and 1 beefy. ' The glaring eyes, too, have almost lost their human 
 character. The background represents a thick jungle. A fine, wild concep- 
 tion. Mr. Stirling and Mr. Palgrave have other impressions of this print, 
 which (as in similar cases afterwards named) differ in the details and merit 
 of the colour and handling. The figure is almost identical with the one 
 engraved at p. 89. Vol. L » ■ 
 
 14. 1794. — Design for the Title Page to the * Europe.' [Mr. Linnell.] 
 
 Includes a human figure not given in the engraving. The serpent, as usual, 
 is admirable. 
 
 15. 1794. — Design from the 'Europe' of a Man at a Eorge, with a 
 
 Woman and a Youth. [Mr. Linnell.] 
 Carefully coloured. 
 
 16. 1794. — A Young Man rescuing a Woman and Girl from a Confla- 
 
 gration. [Mrs. Alex. Gilchrist.] 
 
 Identical, or nearly so, with the tail -piece to the 'Europe.' The colour 
 rather harsh. 
 
 17. 1795. — The Lazar House, from Milton; called also 'The House of 
 
 Death/ by Blake. [Capt. Butts.] Colour-printed. 
 
 Very powerful and awful. Three of the diseased are writhing upon a mat 
 on the ground, two others are behind. Death and Despair are also present, as 
 in Milton. The former, a vast figure, with closed eyes, a prodigious beard like 
 tongues of flame, and arrowlike fire darting around him, appears at the summit 
 of the group, with outstretched arms and scroll, or, perhaps, winding-sheet. 
 The latter is a livid-green man, with a long bolt or goad in his hand, eyeing his 
 victims with stony scrutiny. Mr. Harvey, of Cockspur-street, has a duplicate 
 of this great work, paler in tint. 
 
LIST OF WORKS IN COLOUR. 
 
 203 
 
 18. 1795. — Elohini creating Adam. [Capt. Butts.] Colour-printed. 
 
 The Creator is an amazingly grand figure, worthy of a primeval imagination 
 or intuition. He is struggling, as it were, above Adam, who lies distended on 
 the ground, a serpent twined around one leg. The colour has a terrible power 
 in it ; and the entire design is truly a mighty one — perhaps on the whole the 
 greatest monument extant of Blake's genius. 
 
 19. 1795. — Lamecli and liis two Wives. [Capt. Butts.] Colour-printed. 
 
 Lamech looks with horrid remorse upon the young man he has slain : his 
 wives, beautifully grouped, cling together in dismay. Extra Blakeian in cha- 
 racter and drawing. There is a great effect of dark sky and hills, their edges 
 dimly defined in glimmering light. 
 
 20. 1795.— The Good and Evil Angels struggling for possession of a Child. 
 
 [Capt. Butts.] Colour-printed. 
 
 The Good Angel holds the Child — the Evil one, enveloped in flames, seeks to 
 seize it ; his eyes are mere sightless balls. A strong specimen of Blake's solid 
 colour, and energetic form and action. 
 
 21. 1795. — Elijah mounted in the Eiery Chariot. [Mrs. Alex. Gilchrist.] 
 
 Colour-printed. 
 
 Elijah lays hold of the rein with his right hand : his left is upon a book 
 placed on his knees. He is draped — but Elisha, who stands before him, with 
 joined hands, lost in a flood of beard, is perfectly naked, and looks as ancient 
 as Elijah. The horses seem compact of fire ; fire flows out in place of chariot- 
 wheels ; behind Elijah, a sphere of rolling red flame ; for sky, a blaze of yellow. 
 A magnificent work — awful and preterhuman in its impression, even to the length 
 of the Prophets' beards. The colour very solid, and austerely luminous. Capt. 
 Butts has a duplicate of this, somewhat more positive and less excellent in colour. 
 fc Another duplicate has black, instead of yellow, behind and upon the rays. 
 
 22. 1795. — Newton. [Capt. Butts.] Colour-printed. 
 
 A sitting naked figure among the rocks, stooping with compasses, wherewith 
 he is measuring on the ground. Eemarkably grand in action and manner, and 
 full in the colour of the sky and rocky bank, for the j)eculiar execution of 
 . which see p. 376. Vol. 1. 
 
 23. 1799 (?). — The Last Supper. [Mr. Strange, Highgate, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Tempera. 
 
 The group are reclined at table in the antique mode — a point seldom or never 
 introduced in art. Judas is so absorbed in counting over the thirty pieces of 
 silver covertly in the palm of his hand that he remains deaf to what is being 
 said. The effect of the lights scintillates upon a dark ground. A very in- 
 teresting and, on the whole, fine picture : probably the one exhibited in the 
 Academy (p. 144, Vol. I.). 
 
 24. 1799. — Charity. [From Mr. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 Charity is embodied in a female figure : there are various other figures in the 
 composition. 
 
 25. 1799. — Rachel giving Joseph the Coat of many Colours. (?) [Capt. 
 
 Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 The aged Israel, the still blooming and lovely Rachel, and the naked boy 
 Joseph, form a fine group of Blake's patriarchal style. Golden, but nearly 
 colourless, in tint, with a blue sky. The supposed ' coat of many colours ' is only 
 coloured with a blue arabesque pattern. 
 
 26. 1799. — The Adoration of the Kings. [Capt. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 A pretty, sweet picture, with abundance of rich material, 
 
204 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WOKKS. 
 
 27. 1799. — 'The Sons of God saw the Daughters of men, that they were 
 
 fair ; and they took them wives of all which they chose.' (?) [Capt. 
 Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 An old man, a woman, an angel, and six children, under a fruit-tree ; the 
 woman is a charming figure. Interesting in conception, if the subject is as 
 surmised. 
 
 28. 1799 (?).— St. Matthew. [Mr.W. M. Eossetti, from Mr. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 "Vigorously conceived. The Angel, typically associated with St. Matthew, is 
 showing him a roll, written with blood-red characters of the Hebrew type — the 
 record of the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world. Matthew starts 
 back amazed at the riches of the grace of God. 
 
 29. 1799 (?).— St. Mark. [Mr. Thomas, from Mr. Butts.] Tempera. (?) 
 
 30. 1799. — St. Luke. [Capt. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 He holds a pen, and is accompanied by the typical bull. Almost destroyed 
 in surface. This picture, being dated, may be presumed to fix the date of the 
 three companion-figures. 
 
 31. 1799(2). — St. John. [Mr. Thomas, from Mr. Butts.] Tempera. (?) 
 
 32. 1799. — The child Christ taught by the Virgin to read. [Capt. 
 
 Butts.] Tempera. 
 An inferior specimen. 
 
 33. Circa 1799 (?). — 'A spirit vaulting from a cloud 
 
 To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus/ — Shakespeare. 
 Unfinished. Seep. 138. VoL II. 
 
 The date is conjectured, from the statement (as above) that the work, one of 
 Blake's first 4 frescoes, ' was painted many years before the date of the Catalogue 
 (1809). 
 
 34. Circa 1 801.—* Eighteen Heads of the Poets. [Mr. ¥m. KusselL] 
 
 Tempera. See p. 166. Vol. I. 
 
 These heads are nearly life-sized, each painted on a separate canvas ; the 
 heads themselves almost or quite colourless, with the character of sculptural 
 busts, the accessories mostly coloured, within decorative limits, and illustrative 
 of the author's genius or works. An interesting series. (The statement in the 
 text, p. 166, that the Heads are but ten in number, is inaccurate : Mr. Russell 
 has succeeded in re -uniting the entire series.) 
 
 (a) Homer. 
 
 Younger than he is usually represented, and full of life ; one of the finest of 
 the. set, the colour well harmonized. Bay-wreath. Curiously enough, the 
 illustrative accessories selected are the Mouse and Frog, very cleverly done, 
 indicating no higher achievement in poetry than the Batrachomyomachia. 
 
 (6) Euripides, or another of the Greek Tragedians. 
 
 A good head. Oak-wreath. Accessories from classic legend. 
 
 (c) Lucan. 
 
 Accessories — Csesar and the Decapitation of Pompey. 
 
 (d) Dante. 
 
 Vivid and grand : wreath and framing of bay, fine in decorative arrangement 
 Accessory, Ugolino. 
 
 (e) Chaucer. 
 
 Accessories, the Wife of Bath, &c. 
 
LIST OF WORKS IN COLOUR. 
 
 205 
 
 (/) Spenser. 
 
 Accessories from the Faery Queen. 
 
 (g) Tasso. 
 
 Accessories, a figure of a woman in prayer, &c. 
 
 (h) Shakespeare. 
 
 Like the Droeshout portrait, which Blake rated highly. Accessories, Hamlet 
 and the Ghost. 
 
 (i) Sidney. 
 
 A good, portrait-like head, in armour. 
 (j) Camoens. 
 
 Undisguisedly one-eyed : good. Accessory, an anchor. 
 (k) Milton. 
 
 More than usually worked up. "Wreath of bay and oak intertwined. Acces- 
 sories, the Serpent holding the apple in his mouth, and a harp against a palm- 
 tree. 
 
 (I) Dryden. 
 
 Good ; greatly dilapidated at one side. Accessory, Alexander's Feast, 
 (m) Otway. 
 
 An able, thoughtful head. Accessories, the City of Venice, unspeakably 
 unlike it, and the appeal of Belvidera to Jaffier. 
 
 (n) Pope. 
 
 Wreath, ivy and other leaves. Accessories, Heloisa praying, and another 
 female figure not easy to identify ; both agreeable. 
 
 (o) Young. 
 
 Wreath, bramble and palm. Accessory, a figure which may stand for a 
 Recording Angel. 
 
 (p) Cowper. 
 
 Still more colourless than usual. Wreath of lily-in-the-valley. Accessories, 
 a dog and a schoolboy. 
 
 (q) Voltaire. 
 
 Young and extremely sprightly. The wreath is distinguished from all the 
 others by the variety and brightness of its floral colours — honeysuckle, convol- 
 vulus, pimpernel, &c. ; a rather curious distinction, as one is not at all accus- 
 tomed to associate the idea of Voltaire with any special vividness of natural 
 beauty. Accessories, the Pucelle d'Orleans (disappointing) and some knights. 
 
 (r) Hayley. 
 
 A pleasing, youngish face. 
 
 35. 1 80 1. — Portrait of Mr. Butts, Sen. [Capt. Butts.] Miniature. 
 
 Half-length. An unpretending but by no means unsatisfactory example of • 
 miniature-painting. The sitter, with powdered hair and dark eyes, in an 
 artillery uniform, holds a book. 
 
 36. 1802 (?). — *Adam naming the Beasts. [Mr. Stirling, M. P. from Mr. 
 
 Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 Bust : front face. See p. 169, Vol. I. as to this subject, as frontispiece to 
 Hayley's Ballads. 
 
 37. 1802.— * Eve naming the Birds. [Mr. Stirling, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Tempera. 
 
 Bust : front face. The pretty turn of thought evidenced in this as connected 
 with the preceding subject will not be missed. 
 
206 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WOKKS. 
 
 38. 1802. — Portrait of the Eev. J. Johnson. Miniature. See p. il>5. Vol. I. 
 
 39. 1803. — The Eiposo (Eepose in the Flight to Egypt). [From Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Described in Blake's letter, p. 193. Yol. II. The Eiposo now in the pos- 
 session of Captain Bntts, No. 136, does not strictly correspond with the descrip- 
 tion, nor yet the one belonging to Mr. Milnes, No. 69. 
 
 -10. 1803. — *St. Paul preaching in Athens. [Mrs. de Putron, Kodmell 
 Rectory, from Mr. Butts.] Colour-printed. 
 Mentioned in the account printed at p. 256. Vol. II. 
 
 41. 1803. — * The Three Maries, with the Angel at the Sepulchre. [Capt. 
 
 Butts.] 
 
 The Angel is just floating above the ground : the Maries, arrested by the 
 sight, hold together, unknowing what to think. Very fine and mystic-looking. 
 
 42. 1803.— * The Death of the Virgin Mary— (inscribed) ' Then saith He 
 
 to the Disciple, " Behold thy Mother ! " And from that hour that 
 Disciple took her unto his own home/ [Capt. Butts.] 
 
 Mary has just yielded up her breath : Angels attend her bed, head and foot. 
 Above her, and within a rainbow composed of angel-heads, stands John. Im- 
 pressive : the figures standing out almost wholly colourless upon a more than 
 usually high-coloured background. 
 
 43. 1803. — *The Death of St. Joseph — (inscribed) ' Into Thine hand I 
 
 commend my spirit : Thou hast redeemed me, 0 Lord God of Truth.' 
 [Capt. Butts.] 
 
 The companion design to the preceding, strictly correspondiiig with it in 
 such details as the rainbow. The group of Joseph tended by Jesus and Mary is 
 a fine one, and the effect of light and colour very vivid : though the general 
 quality of execution aimed at is not in all respects that most suitable to Blake. 
 
 44. 1803. — The Sacrifice of Jephthah's Daughter. [Capt. Butts.] 
 
 The loveliness and pathos of innocent girlhood could not be more gloriously 
 expressed than in this figure of the fair young creature, perfectly naked and 
 rose-chapleted, kneeling upon a lofty altar, full-fronting the spectator. Swathes 
 of rushes for burning are behind her : at either side, her tambourine and 
 lyre. Two maidens stand sorrowfully at each angle of the altar. Jephthah 
 kneels in front, his back turned, his arms wide-spread, invoking the divine 
 sanction upon the tremendous deed. To right and to left, clouds, here louring 
 in brown, there blue, droop like heavy folds of curtain. This ranks among 
 Blake's noblest designs. 
 
 45. 1803. — ' I was naked.' 'Unto Adam and his "Wife did the Lord 
 
 God make coats of skins.' [Capt. Butts.] 
 
 ' The Angel of the Divine Presence ' (so phrased by Blake) encircles with 
 downward arms Adam and Eve, both of whom clasp hands of humble 
 gratitude : the Eve is exquisitely modest. Palm-trees over-canopy the group ; 
 an altar burns at each side." Very fine in quality, though the execution, 
 especially in the figures, is not carried far. 
 
 4G. 1803. — Ruth, the dutiful Daughter-in-law. [Capt. Butts.] 
 
 Extremely beautiful : the figures of Ruth herself and Naomi, the former 
 clasping the latter round the waist, could not be designed with a more noble 
 and pure simplicity. Orpah turns back. There is a good deal of landscape 
 material in the background, of a rather primitive kind, yet pleasing. See 
 pp. 142-3. Vol. II. 
 
LIST OF WORKS IN COLOUR. 
 
 207 
 
 47. Circa 1 803 (1). — Satan calling up his Legions — Paradise Lost. Tempera. 
 
 See p. 139. Vol. II. 
 
 Blake terms this and Nos. 81 and 82 ' Experiment Pictures. ' All of them, 
 it would seem, were free from oil-vehicle. Date conjectured, as in the case 
 of No. 33. 
 
 48. Circa 1804(1). — The same. [Lord Leconfield] Temperd. 
 
 Referred to at p. 139, Vol. II. An elaborate, fine, and richly-coloured 
 example, now half- ruined. The Satan, a nude figure standing on a rock, is not 
 like the Fuselitype in such subjects. The composition is full of figures, flames, 
 and rocks. 
 
 49. 1804. — A man at an anvil talking to a Spirit. [Mr. Evans, Strand.] 
 
 Published in the ' Jerusalem. ' 
 
 50. 1804. — Three personages, one of them crowned, sunk in despondency. 
 
 [Mr. Harvey, Cockspur Street.] 
 
 Published in the ' Jerusalem, 'p. 51 ; lugubrious in colour. In the water- 
 colour, this very characteristic design has the names 'Vala, Hyle, Skofeld,' 
 written under the figures — Yala being the crowned one. Possibly the name 
 Skofeld is derived from the soldier Scholfield, who laid an information against 
 Blake for seditious words. 
 
 51. 1804. — The same design as the preceding. [Mr. Linnell.] 
 
 Of larger size, and without the names. Very good. 
 
 52. 1805. — * After these things came Jesus and His Disciples into the land 
 
 of Judaea; and there he tarried with them, and baptized.' — John iii. 22. 
 [Mr. Bohn, from Mr. Butts.] Water-colour with pen outline. 
 
 Evidently treated with a kind of symbolic bearing upon baptism as a part 
 of the Christian scheme ; Christ stands as baptizer at a font, as it were in a 
 Church. There are several other figures. The colour is pale and sweet. The 
 account printed at p. 256 seems to show that more than usual pains were 
 bestowed upon this water-colour. 
 
 53. 1805. — Moses striking the Eock [Mr. Bohn, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Not very impressive at first sight, yet powerful in expression of the subject 
 in the group of thirsting Israelites, some dozen or less in number. The 
 principal male figure is taking measures for helping an infant first. 
 
 54. Circa 1805. — Eire. [Capt. Butts.] 
 
 Blake, the supreme painter of fire, in this his typical picture of fire, is at 
 his greatest ; perhaps it is not in the power of art to transcend this treatment 
 of the subject in its essential features. The water-colour is unusually complete 
 in execution, The conflagration, horrid in glare, horrid in gloom, fills the 
 background ; its javelin-like cones surge up amid conical forms of buildings 
 ('Langham Church steeples,' they may be called, as in IsTo. 151). In front, an 
 old man receives from two youths a box and a bundle which they have 
 recovered ; two mothers and several children crouch and shudder, overwhelmed ; 
 other figures behind are running about, bewildered what to do next. 
 
 55. 1805. — *Plague. [Mr. Strange, from Mr. Butts.] Water-colour with 
 
 pen outline. 
 
 The admirable design engraved to face p. 54, Vol. I. : slight in colour. 
 
 56. 1805. — Pestilence — The Death of the First-horn. [Mr. Strange, from 
 
 Mr. Butts.] Water-colour with pen outline. 
 
 A vast scaled demon, green and many -tinted, pours deadly influence from 
 his outstretched arms. The figures rushing together scared, by pa]e torch- 
 light, to find themselves each bereaved, are powerfully rendered. In the 
 centre, between the demon's legs, is seen a small Israehtish house, with an 
 Angel in the doWway. Dark effect. 
 
208 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WORKS. 
 
 57. 1805. — *Famine. [Mr. Strange, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Very terrible and grimly quiet, though not remarkable in executive respects ; 
 the colour laid in pale. A child seeks the breast of its dead mother ; a young 
 woman paces about objectless and desolate ; a man strips with his teeth the 
 flesh off the arm of a naked corpse, while a woman, with famine-wrung features, 
 turns away in horror. For scenery, a gaunt, leafless tree ; the entrance to a 
 savagely bare building like a sepulchre ; and unclad hills, under an ordinary sky. 
 
 58. 1805. — The Whirlwind — Ezekiel's vision of the Cherubim and Eyed 
 
 Wheels. [Mr. Strange, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Not sightly in execution, but the Eyed Wheels very curious and living. 
 The Deity is above ; Ezekiel, very small comparatively to the other figures, 
 lies below. 
 
 59. 1805. — *Samson bursting his bonds. [Mr. Strange, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Samson has too much of an operatic aspect, yet the essentials of the 
 subject are fully rendered. Dalilah, behind him, stares in dismay at the 
 upshot of her conspiracy ; three mailed Philistines make off to the left, crowd- 
 ing each other in their precipitation — an admirable group for consentaneous 
 motion. The colour is rather neutral. 
 
 60. 1805. — *Samson subdued. [Capt. Butts.] 
 
 Energetic and fine in the composition and actions. Of Samson the back 
 only is seen ; he lies wholly naked, and quite hairless now save towards the 
 nape of the neck, slumbering upon the knees of Dalilah, herself semi-nude, 
 and with an air of triumph. Three Philistine warriors, very carelessly drawn, 
 look in timidly from behind a curtain. Pale in colour. 
 
 61. 1805. — Noah and the Bainbow. [From Mr. Butts?] 
 
 Mentioned in the account printed at p. 256. Yol. II. 
 
 62. 1805. — ' Thou art fairer than the children of men. . . . Gird Thee 
 
 with Thy sword upon Thy thigh, 0 Thou Most Mighty, according to 
 Thy worship and renown.' — Psalm xl v. [Capt. Butts.] Water-colour 
 over a strong ground of pencilling. 
 
 Pale, and with a slovenly aspect, through the method of execution, though 
 fine upon inspection. The Son of God is represented seated in heaven, reading 
 in a book ; two Angels are beside him, with grounded swords swathed in flame. 
 These figures stand out upon a sky strong in rayed light. 
 
 63. 1805. — The Four and Twenty Elders casting their Crowns before the 
 
 Divine Throne. [Capt. Butts.] 
 
 A determined effort on Blake's part is evident here to realize the several 
 features of the transcendent vision ; the Divine Being, ' like a jasper and a 
 sardine stone ' in hue, the creatures ' full of eyes before and behind, ' and the 
 like. A telling success in an almost impracticable attempt. 
 
 64. 1805. — The Wise and Foolish Virgins. [From Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Mentioned in the account printed at p. 256. Vol. II. 
 
 65. 1805. — The King of Babylon. 'Hell from beneath is moved for 
 
 thee, to meet thee at thy coming.' — Isaiah xiv. 9. [From Mr, Butts.] 
 Mentioned in the account printed at p. 256. Vol. It. 
 
 66. 1805. — God judging Adam. [From Mr. Butts.] Colour-printed. 
 
 Mentioned in the account printed at p. 256. Vol. II. 
 
 67. 1805. — 1 Christ appearing.' [From Mr. Butts.] Colour-printed. 
 
 Mentioned in the account, p. 256, Vol. II. Perhaps connected with the 
 Tempera (No. 164) of Christ appearing to the Apostles^after the Resurrection. 
 
LIST OF WOEKS IN COLOUR. 
 
 209 
 
 68. 1805.— War. [From Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Mentioned in the account, p. 256. Yol. II. 
 
 69. 1806.— * The Repose of the Holy Family in Egypt. [Mr. Monckton 
 
 Mimes, M.P.] Water-colour, only half-painted. 
 
 The fugitives are reposing under a palm-tree ; their donkey drinks of the 
 stream ; an animal shaggy and bristly enough to illustrate the ' doctrine of 
 correspondences, ' as though he represented so much pabulum of thistles and 
 stubble. The varied landscape background is the most pleasurable feature of 
 this water-colour, a poor one in surface handling. 
 
 70. 1806. — Design for the Dedication to Blair's 'Grave.' [British Museum.] 
 
 Executed with most special care and completeness in pale semi-neutral tints ; 
 a very beautiful work. The subject is the deliverance of the Human Soul from 
 Death, and the Ascension of the Just. Above, are two angels, one sheathing 
 the sword, another holding the unequally-poised balance and a sealed roll ; a 
 third descends with a key to unlock the fetters of the grave. A mother with 
 her adolescent and infant family rises to the left ; a man and children to the 
 right, their chains riven, clasp their upraised hands in thankfulness for the 
 great deliverance. Between the upper angels a space is left for the inscription. 
 See pp. 205, 207, 217. Vol. 1. 
 
 71. 1806. — Satan watching the Endearments of Adam and Eve. [Mr. 
 
 Strange, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Essentially the same as No. 75 c?, but with differences of detail ; the figure of 
 Satan, for instance, being turned towards the left, instead of the right ; the 
 flesh here is almost colourless, and the feeling on the whole more softly sensuous. 
 The serpent, with a comb of fire, 'in his own volumes intervolved, ' shuffles 
 away from the feet of the First Parents. Very beautifully drawn, rich in 
 form, and charming in impression. 
 
 72. 1807. — The Vision of Queen Katharine — Shakespeare's ' Henry VIII.' 
 
 [Mr. Dilke, from Mr. Butts.] Slight tint of water-colour. 
 
 Treated quite from the ideal, not the historic or dramatic point of view ; and 
 a leading example of Blake's accurate manner. Katharine, crowned and 
 young-looking, with light hair, 'makes in her sleep signs of rejoicing, and 
 holdeth up her hands to heaven,' or to the Angels, of whom a considerable 
 number are floating about in all parts of the composition, with wreaths, harps, 
 &c. Their small size gives them rather a fairy-like than a strictly angelic 
 character. The attendants, Griffith and Patience, both dozing, are an ancient 
 bearded man with a book, and a youthful woman. See the following number, for 
 which this appears to be a preparation. It was exhibited in Manchester in 1857. 
 
 73. 1807. — The same. [Mr. Strange.] 
 
 This is the work painted for Sir Thomas Lawrence (see p. 357, Vol. I.), and 
 is very elaborately executed, with a great glory of light shooting through ragged 
 drifts of darkness. The purity of colour is somewhat affected by the strong effort 
 to get relief and play of light. Katharine is finer here than in the preceding. 
 
 74. 1807-8. — The Last Judgment. [Lord Leconfield.] Tempera. See pp. 
 
 212, &c. Vol.1. 
 
 A small picture highly finished in drawing, but slight in colour, the white 
 predominating save on the side of the condemned. Scarcely equal to the im- 
 pression of the work derivable from Blake's description ; though some of the 
 figures of the blessed are of extreme loveliness. 
 
 75. 1808. — *Nine Designs from 'Paradise Lost.' [Mr. Strange, from 
 
 Mr. Butts.] 
 
 This is a marvellously fine series : Blake is here king of all his powers of 
 design, draughtsmanship, conception, spiritual meaning and impression. The 
 colour is throughout good, often splendid ; the execution accurate and sustained ; 
 the style of form grand, sweeping, and tense. This series would of itself suffice 
 to rank Blake among the heroes of the art. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 P 
 
210 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WOKKS. 
 
 (a) '"'The Casting of the Rebel Angels into Hell. Book VI. 
 
 A great example of energetic design ; the devils hurled down with huge 
 velocity, and a Michael- Angelo-like power of action. The Son of God, in a 
 disc of pale crimson flame, draws His bow against them, the shaft of the arrow 
 being imagined, not represented. The central demon is Satan ; next him falls 
 one with a mapped-out forehead, the representative of apostate intellect, 
 presumably Beelzebub ; the flames of hell reach already above them. The 
 angels around Christ are not equal to the rest of the subject. 
 
 (b) *The Creation of Eve. Book VIII. 
 
 Very spiritual and sculpturesque, without much colour. Adam lies at full 
 length on a natural carpet of leaves, a sort of invented foliaceous form, the 
 like of which, modified according to the purpose, appears in other designs. At 
 the bidding of the Son of God, as Creator, Eve floats up from Adam's side ; 
 the crescent moon above her in a deep dusky sky. The evening flowers are 
 shut ; the trees seem bound in slumber. 
 
 (c) * ' Father, Thy word is passed, Man shall find grace.' Book III. 
 
 The Son stands as intercessor before God the Father ; four youthful angels 
 hover with downward sway, bearing crowns. The whole of the celestial group 
 is rather in grisaille than in colour. Satan, armed with shield and spear, floats 
 below, subjugated, but unextinguished in rebellion. 
 
 (d) * Satan watching the Endearments of Adam and Eve. Book IV. 
 
 Very grand in the lines of the seated figures of Adam and Eve. Satan, above 
 the floral bower which over-arches them, holds the serpent— an amazingly 
 subtle, prismatic-hued serpent — which seems in horrid council with him, 
 draining his vitals. Satan has a languid, almost ' sentimental ' air, yet very 
 terrible. The sun sets to the right, while the stars and moon are in the 
 opposite space of nightly sky. (See No. 71.) 
 
 (e) * Satan, as a Toad, haunting the Dreams of Eve. Book IV. 
 
 The natural couch upon which Adam and Eve lie (see b above) is curious ; a 
 mass of rounded forms, simulating shut roses, but unfortunately solid-looking, 
 like peaches. Two angels float above, with small javelins. 
 
 (/) * Raphael and Adam in conversation, Eve ministering to them. 
 Book V. 
 
 A most beautiful Eve (as frequently the case with Blake), exactly realizing 
 the high ideal ' naked and not ashamed. ' Kaphael, with a grand action of the 
 upraised arms, and his dispread wings meeting at the tips in a noble ogee curve, 
 is cautioning Adam against his impending danger ; he listens perturbed. The 
 natural chairs, table, and cups, formed by the vegetation, are ingeniously 
 managed. In the distance is an extensive landscape, with numerous animals ; 
 the Tree of Life at the summit, with fruit glowing like illumination-lamps, 
 or the jewel-fruit of Aladdin ; the serpent is coiled up its trunk, lying fear- 
 fully in wait. 
 
 (g) * Eve eating the forbidden Fruit. Book IX. 
 
 Wonderful exceedingly. Eve, again most beautiful, eats out of the jaws of 
 the serpent the fruit which he presents to her. Other fruits hang from the 
 branches, glowing (as in the preceding design) with ruddy luminousness. The 
 trunk of the tree is cramped with huge parasitic thorn-stems, which reach 
 down along the ground, as it were the roots of the tree itself. Ghastly forked 
 lightning plays round Eve, lurid and menacing. At the other (left) side of the 
 tree stands Adam, as in a distinct plane of the composition. He is yet guiltless 
 and unconscious of the evil ; round him, too, play the forked lightnings, 
 chain-like, but less angry in colour. The storm-sky blackens as the doom 
 culminates. 
 
LIST OF WORKS IN COLOUR. 
 
 211 
 
 (h) * Michael foretelling the Crucifixion to Adam : — 
 
 ' But to the cross He nails thy enemies, — 
 The law that is against thee and the sins 
 Of all mankind, with Him there crucified/ — Book XII. 
 
 Christ on the cross is visibly brought before Adam, who stands adoring — 
 very fine in form. At the foot of the cross lie two human figures, one of 
 which is possibly ' the Law, ' and some bestial heads symbolizing ' the Sins ' or 
 Vices, it may be presumed. The serpent is twined there also, his crest set 
 beneath the foot of Christ. At the bottom of the composition Eve is sleeping ; 
 a beautiful, grand, rich form. The Archangel, in this and the succeeding design, 
 is unfortunately a failure ; a kind of over-handsome classic warrior. Blake 
 has tried hard to hit the mark, but somehow the inspiration would not come. 
 
 (i) *Adam and Eve taken by Michael out of Eden. — Book XII. 
 
 Adam's first step out of Eden stumbles upon a thorn — admirably thought 
 of : the thistle is beside it. Both he and Eve look with scared revulsion upon 
 the serpent, wondrously treacherous, crawling and accursed, yet with malice 
 gratified. Above this group are seen four red- bearded angels, represented as 
 of the middle age of man, upon blood-red horses, and with flames ; while a 
 huge wreath of crimson fire, like a funereal pall wind-shaken, flaps over the 
 head of Michael. 
 
 76. 1808.— Jacob's Ladder. [Mr. Milnes, from Mr. Butts.] See pp. 
 
 216, Vol. I, and 141, Vol. II. 
 
 77. 1808. — The Angels hovering over the Body of Jesus in the Sepulchre. 
 
 See pp. 216, Vol. I, and 141, Vol. II. 
 
 78. 1 808. — * The Canterbury Pilgrimage, from Chaucer — 1 Sir J effrey Chaucer 
 
 and the nine-and-twenty Pilgrims on their Journey to Canterbury.' 
 [Mr. Stirling, from Mr. Butts.] Tempera. See pp. 225, Vol. I., 
 and 122—132, Vol. II. 
 
 Sent to the International Exhibition. The colour of this fine work appears to 
 have darkened, making the general impression of the scene a rather sombre one. 
 
 79. 1809 or earlier. — The Spiritual Form of Nelson guiding Leviathan, in 
 
 whose wreathings are enfolded the Nations of the Earth. Tempera. 
 See p. 120. Vol. II. 
 
 The date given is conjectural ; 1809 is the latest possible, that being the date 
 of the " Descriptive Catalogue." 
 
 80. 1809 or earlier. — The Ancient Britons — The Three who escaped from 
 
 King Arthur's last Battle. Tempera. See pp. 228, Vol. I., and 
 133—137, Vol. II. 
 
 81. 1809 or earlier. — The Goats (browsing the vine-leaves wherein some 
 
 savage girls had dressed themselves). Tempera. (?) See p. 138, 
 Vol. II., and No. 47. 
 
 82. 1 809 or earlier. — The Spiritual Preceptor, from Swedenborg. Tempera. (?) 
 
 See p. 138, Vol. II., and No. 47. 
 
 83. 1809 or earlier. — The Crucifixion — The Soldiers casting Lots for the 
 
 Garments. [Mr. Milnes, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Peculiarly treated — the crucified Saviour, with the two thieves, being seen 
 from behind, and the ground which lies before the cross appearing beyond. 
 Very poetic, pictorial, and solemn in darkling effect. The soldiers form the 
 foreground group, and have plenty of character and varied action. See p. 141, 
 Vol. II. 
 
 P 2 
 
212 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE S WORKS. 
 
 84. 1809 or earlier. — The Brahmins — Mr. Wilkin translating the Geeta. 
 
 See p. 141, Yol. II., where this and the three following are stated to be 
 ' drawings : ' it seems clear that ' water-colour drawings ' is meant. 
 
 1809 or earlier. — The Body of Abel found by Adam and Eve ; Cain, 
 who was about to bury it, fleeing from the Face of his Parents. 
 [Capt. Butts.] See p. 141. Vol. II. 
 
 Full of grand horror and vigorous action. Adam and Eve wail over their 
 slaughtered son. 
 
 1809. The Babylonian Woman on the Seven-headed Beast. [British 
 Museum.] 
 
 Her face is of a heavy type (something like that of the Kemble family), 
 her head crowned with a mural diadem. The flesh of the Beast is red, with a 
 smoky tinge ; his heads and figure human, though of a Calibanic cast. The 
 woman holds in her right hand a golden serpent -handled cup, whence flows 
 forth a wreath of figures, also bearing cups and trumpets. They swoop down 
 towards small foreground figures of knights fighting. At them points the 
 woman's left hand, as if to claim them as her own ; men drunk with her 
 cup of ambition, animosity, and the pride of life. Complete in execution and 
 colour, though the -latter partakes rather of the character of 'tinting.' A 
 valuable example of Blake, yet with a less daringly original aspect than might 
 have been expected in such a subject. See p. 242. Yol. I. 
 
 1809. — Portrait of Mrs. Butts. [Capt. Butts.] Miniature. 
 
 The creamy flesh, and the general knack of execution, assimilate closely 
 enough to the style of most miniature-painters. 
 
 Circa 18 10, — Portrait of Mr. Butts, Jun. [Capt. Butts.] Miniature. 
 The son of the Mr. Butts with whom Blake was chiefly connected. There 
 is an elegant quality in the miniature, which conforms fairly to the require- 
 ments of portraiture. Some touches of gilt appear in the hair. 
 
 181 1. — * The Judgment of Paris. [Capt. Butts.] Colour-printed. 
 
 Discord, triple -headed, is flying off ; Mercury floating on the air ; Cupid 
 exults as he handles his arrows ; Paris, languidly seated, seems almost to shrink 
 from the decision which he is in the act of making. His crouched dog has 
 Tlapis inscribed on its collar. The three goddesses, as well as the other figures, 
 are splendid in form ; and the whole design belongs to the highest order of 
 Blake's work, both in spirit and in treatment. 
 
 90. Circa 1820 to 1827.— *The Last Judgment. Tempera. See pp. 214, 358. 
 
 Vol. I. 
 
 91. 1822.—* The Creation of Eve. [Mr. Linnell.] See No. 75 b. 
 
 This design, and the two following, are duplicates, but with some difference 
 in tone of colour, &c. , of the three in Mr. Strange's noble series from • Paradise 
 Lost, ' on the whole carried a trifle less far. 
 
 92. 1822. — * Satan watching the Endearments of Adam and Eve. [Mr. 
 
 Linnell.] See No. 75 d. 
 
 93. 1822. — * Michael foretelling the Crucifixion to Adam. [Mr. Linnell.] 
 
 See No. 75 h. 
 
 Great in effect of darting light and darkness. 
 
 94. 1822. — * The Wise and Eoolish Virgins. [Mr. Linnell.] 
 
 Very noble : the composition admirable, both in an artistic sense and in 
 expression of the subject — the effect dark and nightlike. The "Wise Virgins 
 are in a serried upright group, departing to the left ; the Foolish Virgins 
 distracted and scattered, some upon their knees. Above them an angel, 
 floating in the sky in a horizontal position, blows his trumpet for the coming 
 of the Bridegroom. 
 
 85. 
 
 86. 
 
 87. 
 
 88. 
 
 89. 
 
LIST OF WORKS IN COLOUR. 
 
 213 
 
 95. 1822. — The same, 
 
 A smaller version of the same composition, executed for Sir Thomas 
 Lawrence. See p. 357. Vol. I. 
 
 96. 1822. — The Eich Man in Purgatory. 
 
 Also clone for Sir T. Lawrence. ' Purgatory ' appears to be an euphuism for 
 ' Hell,' and the subject that of ' Dives and Lazarus.' 
 
 97. Circa 1822. — A complete Set of Water-colour Designs for the Job 
 
 Engravings. [Mr. Milnes, from Mr. Butts.] See pp. 282-3. Vol. I. 
 
 These are much larger than the engravings, and give only the central sub- 
 jects, without the borderings or mottoes. They are generally pale in colour, 
 with a less full and concentrated effect than the engravings, and by no means 
 equal to them in power and splendid decorative treatment of the light and 
 shade. On the other hand, they are often completer and naturally freer in 
 expression, and do not exhibit a certain tendency, noticeable generally in the 
 engravings, to over-sturdiness of build and physiognomy in the figures. (See 
 also the photolithographs.) As distinguished from the engravings, the follow- 
 ing are the most noticeable of the water-colours : — 
 
 (a) ' Thus did Job continually.' 
 
 On the sun is written : ' Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed be Thy 
 name : Thy will be.' 
 
 (b) The Destruction of Job's Sons and Daughters. 
 
 The figure of Satan much finer in the water-colour ; and the whole composi- 
 tion of the victims, with their upraised arms, appealing and struggling, more 
 impressive. 
 
 (c) ' Then went Satan forth from the presence of the Lord.' 
 
 Exhibits some considerable difference from the engraving in the arrangement, 
 though not in the general conception, of the heavenly group. 
 
 (d) The Arrival of Job's Friends. 
 
 As a general rule, the friends are less individualized the one from the other 
 in the water-colours. Here the traces of the sun-rays are less distinct : the 
 hills are finely tinged in purple and green. Job's wife has the aspect of old 
 age ; an aspect less discernible in several others of the designs and engravings, 
 especially in those where she is free from sorrow. 
 
 (e) ' The just upright man is laughed to scorn,' 
 
 Very fine, and one of the fullest in colour. 
 
 (/) Job's terrific Dream. 
 
 The serpent is gorgeous in prismatic tints — continually a strong point with 
 Blake. 
 
 (9) 1 When the morning stars sang together/ 
 
 The angelic group at the summit consists of only four figures, fully brought 
 into the composition. In the engraving, the effect of sublimity and multitude 
 is centupled by adding the upreared arms of two other angels to right and left, 
 passing out of the composition. This appears to have been an after-thought 
 during the progress of the engraving itself, as two thin wreaths of cloud, which 
 close-in and ' finish off' the group in the design, appear also in the engraving. 
 
 (h) Leviathan and Behemoth. 
 
 Splendidly tinted, and, on the whole, quite as fine in the design as in the 
 engraving. Behemoth is longer-muzzled in the former. 
 
214 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WORKS. 
 
 (i) ' I have heard Thee with the hearing of the ear, but now mine eye 
 seeth Thee/ 
 
 In the drawing, the friends do not turn their faces away from the presence of 
 God, but towards Him, though kept buried in their hands. There is a fine 
 aspect of portent in the sky and background to the right. 
 
 (j) Job's Sacrifice for his Friends* 
 
 Job here stands full-fronting the spectator : the friends are more upright 
 than in the engraving. 
 
 (k) * Every one also gave him a piece of money. 5 
 
 The neighbours are three only, instead of four, and the design otherwise 
 somewhat different from the engraving : the latter having the advantage. 
 
 (I) Job and his Three Daughters. 
 
 "Very bad in the handling of the colour, which is evidently Mrs. Blake's. 
 Differs considerably from the engraving. The history narrated by Job, as 
 shown forth by way of vision, comes overhead, instead of in rounded side- 
 compartments. The group of Job and his Daughters is surrounded by grazing 
 sheep, with a lamb and a sheep-dog -lying in the foreground to right and left. 
 
 (m) The final Prosperity of Job. 
 
 On the sun is written : ' Great and marvellous are Thy works, Lord God 
 Almighty ; just and true. ' 
 
 98. 1823-5. — A second complete Set of Water-colour Designs for the Job 
 Engravings. [Mr. Linnell.] 
 
 See p. 283, Yol. I., and, under the preceding No., the observations on the set 
 belonging to Mr. Milnes. The two sets correspond closely enough, Mr. Linnell's 
 being somewhat higher in colour, and more developed in style generally. The 
 following are noticeable : — 
 
 (a) Satan before the Lord. 
 
 Highly coloured ; the flame about Satan is especially vivid in effect. 
 
 (b) 1 Then went Satan forth from the presence of the Lord.' 
 
 The guardian angels are represented as overclouded. 
 
 (c) Satan pouring Disease on Job. 
 
 Powerful in lurid colour. 
 
 (d) Job's terrific Dream. 
 
 The serpent (contrary to Mr. Milnes's example, 97 /) is dull grey. The 
 lower part of the design has a powerful effect. 
 
 (e) God appearing to J ob in the Whirlwind. 
 
 Dark grey tone of colour. 
 (/) 'When the morning stars sang together/ 
 
 See 97 g, with which this design corresponds in the point there adverted to. 
 
 (g) Leviathan and Behemoth. 
 
 Deeper in colour than 97 h. 
 
 (h) 'Thou hast fulfilled the judgment of the wicked.' 
 
 Strong in colour. 
 
 (i) ' I have heard Thee with the hearing of the ear, but now mine eye 
 seeth Thee.' 
 
 Corresponds with 97 % in the position of the friends. The expression of 
 J ob is exceedingly noble. 
 
LIST OF WORKS IN COLOUR. 
 
 215 
 
 (j) Job's Sacrifice for his Friends. 
 
 Corresponds with the engraving, rather than with 97 j. The engraving, 
 however, introduces an additional point of advantage, by making the composi- 
 tion upright, instead of lengthways. 
 
 (k) 'Every one also gave him a piece of money.' 
 
 Also closer to the engraving than 97 h. Pale in colour. 
 
 (I) Job and his Three Daughters. 
 
 Comes very near the engraving in the details. It so far corresponds, how- 
 ever, with 97 I, that three sheep and a sheep-dog are introduced in the fore- 
 ground. Almost colourless. 
 
 99. 1825 (?). — The same subject. [Mr. Strange, from Mr. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 Also a near approach to the engraving ; the visionary incidents being here 
 much as in that, though somewhat higher up in the composition. Fearfully 
 dilapidated. 
 
 100. 1825. — Twelve Designs to ' Paradise Regained.' [Mr. LinnelL] 
 
 Small water-colours neatly executed, the finishing carried to the point of 
 stippling. See Vol. I. p. 334. Spite of its merits, the series has a remarkable 
 affinity to the character of the poem, which is more distinguished by stately and 
 elaborated method than by inspiration. 
 
 (a) Christ and the Baptist, with two Angels. 
 
 (6) The Baptism of Christ. 
 
 The figures of a woman and child are very pleasing. 
 
 (c) Satan in Council. 
 
 The devils are seated in yellow fire. 
 
 (cl) The First Temptation — ' Command that these stones be made 
 bread.' 
 
 Fine. The mass of trees behind the figures is effective. 
 
 (e) Mary at her Distaff, watched by two Angels. 
 Graceful. 
 
 (/) Christ refusing the Banquet offered by Satan. 
 
 Satan, in the form of an old man, swoops in the air above. The chief female 
 figure has a seductive aspect, well conceived. 
 
 (q) The Second Temptation — Satan displaying the Kingdoms of the 
 ' Earth. 
 
 The kingdoms are seen within a flaming glory. Satan has a black nimbus, 
 of barred form. 
 
 (h) Christ's Troubled Dream. 
 
 Serpents, a lion, &c. haunt the sleeper. Able. 
 
 (i) Morning chasing away the Phantoms. 
 
 The morning is a woman with rosy hair and azure nimbus. The finest design 
 of the series. 
 
 (j) The Third Temptation — Christ on a Pinnacle of the Temple. 
 
 The Temple is of a Gothic type, with many pinnacles. Satan, finally baffled, 
 falls downward. 
 
216 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WORKS. 
 
 (k) Christ ministered to by Angels. 
 Good. 
 
 (I) Christ returning to Mary. 
 
 Two other figures appear to represent Joseph and the Baptist. 
 
 101. 1825-6. — * ]S inety-eight Designs from Dante's 'Divina Commedia.' 
 [Mr. LinnelL] Water-colours, often decidedly unfinished, seldom quite 
 comjilete : occasionally pencil-drawings only, which are retained in 
 this List, rather than the second, for convenience. See p. 333. Yol. I. 
 
 These are among the last works executed by Blake, and form, on the whole, 
 a very fine series, though not uniformly equal in merit : seven only, all from 
 the Hell, have been engraved. So individual an artist as Blake could not fail 
 frequently to run counter to other people's conceptions of the poet ; but he 
 certainly united in a singular degree the qualifications needed to translate 
 Dante into form. Among the points necessary to be preserved, perhaps the 
 one least fully expressed is the peculiar medisevalism of Dante, though Blake 
 was by no means destitute of the feeling at times. Dante is represented 
 throughout as a noble-looking, ideal young man, often almost feminine in 
 person, clad in red. Yirgil, not older than of early middle age, is in blue. 
 (Besides the ninety-eight designs here enumerated, a slight inscribed diagram 
 of the Hell-circles, and two other mere sketches, one of them of uncertain 
 subject, may be considered as outlying members of the series.) 
 
 The Hell — Sixty-eight Designs. 
 
 (a) Dante running from the Three Beasts. — Canto I. 
 
 Virgil comes floating through the air. The beasts are all sorts of colours ; 
 the leopard, for instance, being varied with lake and blue, and without spots. 
 There is a wonderful effect of light beaming prismatic round the sun. 
 
 (6) Dante and Virgil penetrating the Forest. — Canto I. Very unfinished. 
 Fine in feeling. 
 
 (c) The Mission of Virgil. — Canto II. Unfinished. 
 
 Beatrice contemplates Dante, beset by the beasts. At the summit is a 
 large group of the Deity in wrath, and a supernatural being, presumably the 
 Genius of Florence. Two side-figures below, seated amid flames, here blue, 
 there red, are very fearful-looking. There are several other details carrying 
 out the meaning of the whole subject. 
 
 (d) The Inscription over Hell-Gate. — Canto III. Unfinished. 
 
 Grand. Terrible conical upright flames, blue, red, and many-tinted, burn 
 amid the mounded circles of Hell. 
 
 (e) The Vestibule of Hell, and the Souls mustering to cross the 
 Acheron. — Canto III. 
 
 The souls unworthy of either heaven or hell are tormented by the hornets 
 and worms : above, in the dusky air, are their companion-angels, equally 
 excluded. The heavy, murky Acheron is noble, and the whole design very 
 fine upon examination. 
 
 (/) Charon and the Condemned Souls. — Canto III. Little beyond 
 pencil. 
 
 Charon is very grotesque — almost ludicrous. 
 
 (g) Minos.— Canto IV. 
 
 Contains some wonderfully energetic and inventive actions. Terrible retri- 
 butive angel-heads glance out from behind Minos. 
 
 (Ji) Homer, bearing the sword, and his Companions. — Canto IV, 
 
 Pencil — slight 
 
LIST OF WOEKS IN COLOUR. 217 
 
 (i) The Antique Poets and Philosophers, &c. — Canto IV. Half 
 finished. 
 
 Quite a different composition from the preceding. The poets are under ideal 
 trees, the leafage of which has a certain suggestion of the laurel or bay. 
 
 (j) The Circle of the Lustful — Francesca da Rimini. — Canto V. 
 
 Engraved in close correspondence with the design, but this is considerably 
 the finer ; very wonderful in the sweep of the vortex and in colour ; the flesh 
 of the sufferers crimson-streaked. Virgil's head is fused into the light of the 
 visionary disc representing the kiss of Francesca and Paolo. 
 
 (k) The Circle of the Gluttons, with Cerberus. — Canto VI. A mere 
 preparation for colouring. 
 
 (I) Cerberus. — Canto VI. Unfinished. 
 
 His doggish heads have a dragon-like character. He grips in human hands 
 the souls, which are pigmies in comparison. 
 
 (m) The same. Unfinished. 
 
 The finer of the two. Dante and Virgil here are made more important. 
 
 (n) Plutus. — Canto VII. Colour only begun. 
 
 He has an insane look, corresponding to Dante's conception : his right 
 hand is upon a bag marked. ' money.' Fine. 
 
 (o) The Stygian Lake, with the Ireful Sinners fighting. — Canto VII. 
 Unfinished. 
 
 Most admirably invented. The sinners, in two bands, hurl themselves one 
 against the other, through the waters. 
 
 (p) Virgil repelling Filippo Argenti from the Boat. — Canto VIII. 
 Unfinished. 
 Fine. 
 
 (q) Dante and Virgil crossing towards the City of Dis. — Canto VIII. 
 Indian ink. 
 
 The scene is everything here, not the figures . Interesting. 
 
 (r) The Angel crossing Styx. — Canto IX. Only begun. 
 
 Would have come very fine. The whirls of the vortex which accompanies 
 the angel coil like a gigantic serpent. 
 
 (s) The Gorgon-head, and the Angel opening the Gate of Dis. — Canto 
 IX. Only begun in colour. 
 
 The gate, with the angel touching it, forms the chief subject. 
 
 (t) Farinata degli Uberti. — Canto X. Only begun. 
 A very fine beginning. 
 
 (u) The Minotaur. — Canto XII. Only begun in colour. 
 
 The monster is ramping and roaring. Grand and monumental. 
 
 (v) The Centaurs, and the River of Blood. — Canto XII. Pencil outline, 
 with only an indication of colour. 
 
 (w) The Harpies and the Suicides. — Canto XIII. 
 
 The harpies resemble old parrot-like dowagers, with very bright plumage. 
 The trees show the forms of the suicides embodied in them , 
 
218 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WORKS. 
 
 (^).The Hell-Hounds hunting the Destroyers of their own Goods. — 
 Canto XIII. Only begun in colour. 
 
 Most admirable in motion. The landscape counts for much in this com- 
 position. 
 
 (y) The Blasphemers. — Canto XIY. Only begun in colour. 
 
 The chief group is excellent, running to avoid the rain of fire. A woman 
 is a principal figure in it. 
 
 (2) Capaneus the Blasphemer. — Canto XIV. 
 
 Not so violent in action as might have been expected. A strange medley of 
 colour. 
 
 (a 1 ) The Symbolic Figure of the course of Human History described 
 by Virgil. — Canto XIV. Half executed. 
 
 The 'great old man,' as Yirgil terms him, is beardless. Moderately good. 
 
 (b 1 ) Jacopo Eusticucci and his Comrades. — Canto XVI. Half executed 
 in colour. 
 
 Very fine in character of the subject and in motion. 
 
 (c 1 ) The Usurers. — Canto XVII. Pencil-sketch. 
 
 One of them is in the act of low sarcasm described by Dante — putting out 
 his tongue 'like an ox that licks his nose.' 
 
 (d 1 ) Geryon conveying Dante and Virgil downwards. — Canto XVII. 
 Only begun in colour. 
 
 (e x ) The Seducers chased by Devils. — Canto XVIII. Only begun in 
 colour. 
 
 Admirable. In front lies a mummy dike figure, preyed upon by a saurian. 
 No such incident is traceable in the poem : perhaps it represents, in this first 
 Circle of the Fraudulent Sinners, ' Fraud, whereby every conscience is bitten, ' 
 as Yirgil phrases it in Canto XI. 
 
 (Z 1 ) The Flatterers. — Canto XVIII. Only begun in colour. 
 
 There are two wonderful floating figures above, whom it is difficult to 
 account for. 
 
 (g l ) The Simoniac Pope. — Canto XIX. The lower part unfinished in 
 colour. 
 
 The figures of Dante and Yirgil, locked together, at the moment of launching 
 downwards to gaze upon the tormented soul, are most admirable, and among 
 the most difficult achievements in the series. The colour, except in the un- 
 finished part, is highly powerful in horrid brightness. 
 
 (h l ) The Necromancers and Augurs. — Canto XX Very unfinished. 
 A fine beginning. 
 
 (i 1 ) The Devil carrying the Lucchese Magistrate to the Boiling Pitch- 
 pool of Corrupt Officials.— Canto XXI. A sketch, almost colourless. 
 
 Ip) The Devils under the Bridge. — Canto XXI. Only begun in colour. 
 Chiefly landscape : the bridge has some indications of monstrous human 
 features. The devils form a fine agile group. 
 
 (k l ) Virgil abashing the Devils. — Canto XXI. Only begun in colour. 
 
 (I 1 ) The Devils setting out with Dante and Virgil. — Canto XXI. Only 
 begun in colour. 
 
LIST OF WORKS IN COLOUE. 
 
 219 
 
 (m 1 ) The Devils, with Dante and Virgil, by the side of the Pool. — 
 Canto XXII. Only begun in colour. 
 
 Two of the bridge-like arcs of the hell-circles are seen intersecting. 
 
 (n 1 ) Ciampolo tormented by the Devils. — Canto XXII. Slight colour. 
 Nearly as in the engraving. Excellent. 
 
 (o 1 ) The baffled Devils fighting.— Canto XXII. 
 
 Same design as in the engraving, which it surpasses in expression. 
 
 (p 1 ) Dante and Virgil escaping from the Devils. — Canto XXIII. Only 
 begun in colour. 
 
 There are wonderful spirit and impulse in the action of the devils as they fly 
 to the last limit of their circle, which they are doomed never to overpass. 
 
 (q 1 ) The Hypocrites with Caiaphas. — Canto XXIII. Only begun in 
 colour. 
 
 Here again there is a great flying group of devils. Would have come ex- 
 cellent, if completed. 
 
 (r 1 ) The laborious Passage along the Eocks. — Canto XXIV. Very sligh t. 
 Chiefly landscape. 
 
 (s 1 ) The same. Very slight. 
 
 A different design : also chiefly landscape. 
 
 (t 1 ) The Thieves and Serpents. — Canto XXIV. Only begun in colour. 
 
 One of the sinners is a woman. An excellent design, with a conflagration 
 of flame in the "background. 
 
 (u l ) The Serpent attacking Vanni Fucci. — Canto XXIV. Only begun 
 in colour. 
 
 Fucci is in a stooping posture : the serpent bites him in the neck, as in the 
 poem. 
 
 (v l ) Fucci 'making the figs' against God. — Canto XXV. 
 
 ' Making the figs ' is a grossly insulting gesture, done by inserting the thumb 
 between the fore and middle fingers. An admirable design altogether, though 
 in the figure of Fucci more might have been expected. Serpents wriggle in 
 earth and air. 
 
 (w 1 ) Cacus. — Canto XXV. Almost colourless. 
 
 The figure of Cacus, with the serpents about him, constitutes the whole 
 subject. 
 
 (x 1 ) The six-footed Serpent attacking Agnolo Brunelleschi. — Canto 
 XXV. Colour ivashy, but tolerably complete. 
 The fourth of the engraved set. Admirably horrid. 
 (y 1 ) Brunelleschi half transformed by the Serpent. — Canto XXV. 
 Colour only begun. 
 
 The miserable Brunelleschi is a very hideous and debased object. 
 
 (z 1 ) The Serpent attacking Buoso Donati. — Canto XXV. 
 
 The fifth of the engrave 1 set, to which it closely corresponds ; the serpent, 
 however, has no feet in the water-colour. Donati is already turning green at 
 the approach of the transforming influence. Grand. 
 
 (a, 2 ) Donati transformed into a Serpent, Guercio Cavalcanti re-trans- 
 formed from a Serpent to a Man. — Canto XXV. Colour only begun. 
 There is a dreadful quietness in this design, very impressive. 
 
220 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WORKS. 
 
 (b 2 ) Ulysses and Diomed swathed in the same flame. — Canto XXYI. 
 Colour only begun. 
 
 The beginning of one of Blake's tremendous effects of fire, but merely a 
 beginning. 
 
 (c 2 ) The Schismatics and Sowers of Discord. — Canto XXVIII. 
 
 An admirable and copious design. The figure of Mahomet retains some 
 symptom of the traditional likeness of the Prophet. 
 
 (d 2 ) The same. — Mosca de' Lamberti and Bertrand de Born. — Canto 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Splendid in colour. There is a bold curve of hill here, with conical flames 
 before and behind it. 
 
 (e 2 ) The Pit of Disease— The Falsifiers.— Canto XXIX. Colour only 
 begun. 
 
 Engraved. Fine in the composition of the materials, and in the colour, as 
 far as it goes. 
 
 (/ 2 ) Same Pit. — Gianni Schicchi and Myrrha. — Canto XXX. Slight 
 colour. 
 
 Schicchi and Myrrha have bestial, not human, heads : a point of Blake's 
 own invention, though probably suggested by a simile introduced by Dante into 
 this passage. Another sinner is tumbling down alongside the bridge — perhaps 
 a soul newly arrived to its doom, which is a vivid and important point of 
 invention. 
 
 (g 2 ) The Primaeval Giants sunk in the Soil. — Canto XXXI. Slight 
 colour. 
 
 Grand in scale. 
 
 (h 2 ) Nimrod. — Canto XXXI. Almost colourless. 
 
 Would have come very fine, if completed. An indication of the unfinished 
 tower of Babel is given behind Nimrod. 
 
 (i 2 ) Ephialtes and two other Titans. — Canto XXXI. Almost colourless. 
 
 The beginning of a very characteristic Blakeism. 
 
 (y 2 ) Antaeus setting down Dante and Virgil. — Canto XXXI. 
 
 This is about the highest in finish of the whole series. The scene is full of 
 blue tones, with ragged skirts of supernatural fire. Antseus is black, blue, and 
 raw in the fiesh-tints, and his pose extremely daring, as he sets down Dante 
 and Virgil, and turns upwards again, in a single momentary action. Very fine. 
 
 (k 2 ) The Circle of the Traitors.— The Alberti Brothers.— Canto XXXII. 
 Almost colourless. 
 
 Their hair is iced together as in the poem. Very ghastly, and would have 
 come one of the most excellent of the series. 
 
 (I 2 ) Same Circle. — Dante striking against Bocca degli Abati. — Canto 
 XXXII. Almost colourless. 
 Engraved. 
 
 (m 2 ) Dante tugging at Bocca' s Hair. — Canto XXXII. A Imost colourless. 
 Ugolino is seen gnawing at the head of Archbishop Ruggieri. 
 
 (n 2 ) Ugolino relating his Death. — Canto XXXIII. Almost colourless. 
 
 Ugolino is an ancient man, much of the Job type. Ruggieri has his cardinal's 
 hat lying beside him. 
 
LIST OF WOKKS IN COLOUE. 
 
 221 
 
 (o 2 ) Ugolino in Prison. — Canto XXXIII. Slight pencil-sketch, un- 
 coloured. 
 
 Much, the same as the design engraved in the 'Gates of Paradise.' Two 
 angels are here introduced above. 
 
 (p 2 ) Lucifer. — Canto XXXIV. Very slight colour. 
 
 Has indications of much curious detail. 
 
 The Pukgatory — Twenty Designs. [Mr. Linnell.] 
 
 (a) Dante and Virgil re-beholding the Sun as they issue from Hell. — 
 Canto I. Very slight. 
 
 The beginning of a fine effect of light. 
 
 (6) Dante, Virgil, and Cato. — Canto I. Pencil- sketch, with hardly any 
 colour. 
 
 (c) The Angelic Boat wafting over the Souls for Purgation. — Canto II. 
 Pencil-sketch, with hardly any colour. 
 
 (d) The Mountain leading to Purgatory. — Canto IV. Only begun. 
 
 A landscape subject. 
 
 (e) The Ascent of the Mountain. — Canto IV. Slight colour. 
 
 A grand sea, with the sun obscured by cloud. This would have come a 
 splendid design. 
 
 (/) The Souls of those who only repented at the point of death. — 
 Cantos V. and VI. Slight colour. 
 The souls float about in all directions. 
 
 (g) The Lawn with the Kings and Angels. — Cantos VII. and VIII. 
 Slight colour. 
 
 (h) Lucia carrying Dante in his sleep. — Canto IX. 
 Beautiful in character of moonlight, and fine in sentiment. 
 
 (i) Dante and Virgil approaching the Angel who guards the Entrance 
 of Purgatory. — Canto IX. Slight. 
 
 The angel is within a door having a pointed arch. Huge blood-red clouds 
 traverse the sun, which is shining upon the sea. The beginning of a very- 
 strong, but as yet harsh, effect of colour. 
 
 (j) The Angel marking Dante with the sevenfold P. — Canto IX. 
 Slight colour. 
 Also harsh as yet. 
 
 (k) The Eock sculptured with the Recovery of the Ark and the 
 Annunciation. — Canto X. Colour only begun. 
 There is a tremendous black sea in the distance. 
 
 (I) The Proud under their enormous Loads. — Canto X. Colour only 
 begun, and design unfinished. 
 
 The sea here seems to be under a moonlight effect. 
 
 (m) The Angel descending at the close of the Circle of the Proud. — 
 Canto XII. 
 
 The angel descends, with very energetic and beautiful lines of motion, towards 
 Dante and Virgil, who stand on the sculptured rock. 
 
 (n) The Souls of the Envious. — Canto XIII. Pencil-sketch. 
 
222 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WORKS. 
 
 (o) The Angel inviting Dante to enter the Fire. — Canto XXVII. 
 
 The fire is at the top of a narrow steep rock-ledge ; the sea is blue, the sun 
 sinking. Very grand in subject-matter and composition. 
 
 (p) Dante at the moment of entering the Fire. — Canto XXVII. 
 Very fine. 
 
 (q) Dante and Statius sleeping, Virgil watching. — Canto XXVII. 
 Slight, rather neutral colour. 
 
 One of the finest of the series ; the curves of the composition very lovely, 
 the decoratively-invented vegetation curious, the sea black and rippled. 
 Dante's vision of Rachel and Leah is seen in the full moon. 
 
 (r) Beatrice on the Car, Dante, and Matilda. — Canto XXIX. Colour 
 incomplete. 
 
 The meandering, rippling stream is extremely pretty ; the colour, if com- 
 pleted, would have been brilliant. 
 
 (s) Beatrice addressing Dante. — Cantos XXIX. and XXX. 
 
 Beatrice is tinted with yellow and red, as much incarnate in herself as proper 
 to her drapery. The griffin harnessed to the car is grand and monumental, and 
 there is much fantasy in the gleaming of the lights and colours. 
 
 (t) The Harlot and the Giant. — Canto XXXII. Colour only begun. 
 
 The colour is in an unsightly preparatory stage. The design has a good deal 
 of curious material. 
 
 103. The Paradise — Ten Designs. [Mr. Linnell.] 
 
 (a) Dante adoring Christ. — Canto XIV. Only begun. 
 
 Distinguished by its daring waved pattern-lines of fire. 
 
 (b) A Design of Circular Stairs. — Canto XIX. Pencil- sketch. 
 
 Canto XIX., to which Blake has referred this design, does not contain any- 
 thing closely corresponding with it. Perhaps it symbolizes the relation, as in 
 descending grades, between the divine and created intelligences. 
 
 (c) The Eecording Angel. — Canto XIX. Half-colour. 
 
 Represented as an aged man winged. 
 
 (d) Beatrice and Dante in Gemini, amid the Spheres of Flame. — Canto 
 XXIV. Colour only begun. 
 
 (e) St. Peter, Beatrice, and Dante. — Canto XXIV. Colour only begun. 
 
 St. Peter is in a tongue -like flame of fire in mid-sky. 
 
 (/) The same three, with St. James also. — Canto XXV. Only begun. 
 A fine beginning. 
 
 (g) The same four, with St. John the Evangelist also. — Canto XXVI. 
 Only begun. 
 
 The beginning of a very striking work. The five figures, each segregated in 
 a sort of disc of its own, form an irregular cinqfoiled composition ; John being 
 at the apex, flanked by Peter and James, Dante at the base, and Beatrice 
 inserted midway, towards the right. 
 
 (h) The Deity, from whom proceed the Nine Spheres. — Canto XXVIII. 
 Only begun in colour. 
 
 Curious. 
 
LIST OF WOKKS IN COLOUR. 
 
 223 
 
 (i) Dante in the Empyrean, drinking at the Kiver of Light.— Canto 
 XXX. Only begun. 
 
 A number of distinct subjects, admissible according to the ' Doctrine of Cor- 
 respondences, ' are given in the background. In one of these one finds the 
 operations of pictorial art represented. 
 
 (j) The Queen of Heaven in Glory. — Canto XXXI. Sketch, almost 
 colourless. 
 
 SECTION B.— UNDATED WOKKS. 
 
 ARRANGED ACCORDING TO SUBJECT. 
 
 C. — BIBLICAL AND SACEED. 
 
 104. The Creation of Light. [Erom Mr. Butts.] 
 
 105. 'And God blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it : because that in 
 it He had rested from all His work which God created and made.' 
 [Capt. Butts.] 
 
 Very characteristic and fine. The Creator appears within a vesica, formed by 
 the heads and wings of angels, encircled by the sky, rayed with yellow and 
 other hues. The aerial effect of colour throughout the group, in which blue is 
 freely used in the half-tones of flesh, is excellent. 
 
 106. * The Creation of Eve—' She shall be called 'Woman.' [Mr. Milnes, 
 from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 The Creator, holding a hand of Adam, who reclines under a vine, and a hand 
 of Eve, upon a floating cloud, presents her to him. Several sheep are introduced 
 — four of them grazing close by a slumbering lion. 
 
 107. Eve tempted by the Serpent. [Mr. Stirling, from Mr. Butts.] Oil- 
 picture on copper. 
 
 A small full-length figure of a very beautiful fair woman, holding up her right 
 hand to take the apple which the monster-serpent, coiling beside her, lifts high 
 above her head. The moon and a waterfall are in the background. A very 
 carefully -painted, highly-coloured picture. 
 
 108. The Temptation. [From Mr. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 109. The Almighty accusing Eve. 
 
 110. The Expulsion from Eden. [Mr. J. D. Coleridge.] Tempera, on black 
 ground. 
 
 Fine in colour. 
 
 111. Lot and his Daughters. [Mr. Bossetti, from Mr. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 One of the daughters is a rich, fine form. 
 
 112. Abraham and Isaac, with the Bam caught in the Thicket. [Capt. 
 Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 Fair ; full in colour : the ram very large. 
 
 113. Joseph and Potiphar's Wife. [Erom Mr. Butts.] 
 
 'Joseph and Jezebe.1,' according to the sale-catalogue ; probably Blake's own 
 way of expressing it. 
 
224 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE' S WOKKS. 
 
 114. Moses placed in the Ark of Bulrushes. [Capt. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 _ Excellently invented. The mother swoons into her husband's arms ; the 
 sister is on the watch, to give warning of any interruption. The Pyramids are 
 prominent in the landscape. 
 
 115. 'The Compassion of Pharaoh's Daughter:' the Finding of Moses. 
 [Capt. Butts.] 
 
 An exceedingly beautiful design, fully rivalling the grace and tenderness of 
 Elaxman. The princess is a most delicious figure : she is attended by two young 
 girls and two lovely women. Along with the funny little Moses are his mother 
 and sister. In the right-hand corner a pelican (not in the least like one) is 
 feeding her young. Pale in colour. 
 
 116. * Moses at the Burning Bush. [Mr. Bohn, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 High, but not good, in colour. The treatment is interesting. The burning 
 bush presents a small, spiral, dark flame. Moses gazes upon it, much as might 
 any spectator of a curious phenomenon not especially concerning himself. 
 
 117. Moses indignant at the Golden Calf. [Capt. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 The figure of Moses occupies more than half the whole space ; other figures 
 are given in the lower left-hand corner. A fine specimen. 
 
 118. Moses erecting the Brazen Serpent. [Mr. Strange, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 High in colour — red, blue, and yellow, — especially in the serpents and in the 
 sky. Great in energy and in the conception of the serpents, which flare up into 
 the air, loaded with their burden of human agony. A serpent is twined lax around 
 Moses, dying out before the saving brazen image, and its colours fading into slaty 
 extinction : the brazen one is as horrent and living in aspect as any of the others. 
 The only figures not tormented by the serpents are two maidens, one of whom is 
 in an action of thanksgiving. For this figure Blake probably had in his mind 
 the promise, ' It shall bruise thy head, '—the head of a dead serpent coming just 
 at her feet. Whiffs of flame flit across the sky. A wonderful piece of invention 
 throughout. 
 
 119. * The Stoning of Achan. [Mr. Dilke.] 
 
 The face of the stoned man, an athletic figure perfectly naked, is turned aside 
 and backwards. The subject might be the ' Stoning of the Blasphemer ' (Levi- 
 ticus xxiv. 23), or even of Stephen ; but the figure seems less adapted for the 
 latter : and a peculiar detail— a lurid wreath of smoke above his head, mingled 
 with fire — would indicate the ' burning with fire ' of all that belonged to Achan. 
 The wrathful bearded Jews stand over him on both sides, six simultaneous arms 
 raised with their weight of stone. "Very vigorous in design and contour, tending 
 towards the style of Fuseli. 
 
 120. Job confessing his Presumption to God. [Capt. Butts.] 
 
 An exceedingly grand design, not at all corresponding with any of the Job 
 engravings. The Deity, en wreathed by a very vivid prismatic glory, is the only 
 part of the subject which falls short. From around Him, angels whirl earth- 
 ward, ' drinking the air of their own speed. ' Job kneels in front, his head 
 raised. The three friends and Elihu are all bowed arch-wise prostrate to the 
 ground, Elihu especially having a very beautiful and awful look. 
 
 121. Jephthah met by his Daughter. [Capt. Butts.] 
 
 Companion to No. 44. Fine and impulsive, though indifferently executed. 
 The daughter, a lovely girl, not yet of full womanly stature, holds up her arms 
 to welcome Jephthah, who stands dumb -foundered, his clenched fists meeting as 
 he clutches his robe to rend it. Two girls of her own age, with flutes, and a 
 woman with a tambourine, accompany the daughter. 
 
 122. Samson pulling down the Temple. [Capt. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 Samson occupies almost the entire composition. The only other figure is a 
 boy crouched in the corner, horror-struck at his impending fate : an excellent 
 figure this. 
 
LIST OF WORKS IN COLOUR. 
 
 225 
 
 123. *Goliath cursing David. [Mr. Strange, from Mr. Butts.] Water- 
 colour, with slight pen outline. 
 
 Treated with naive grotesqueness, and not a good specimen in point of 
 execution, but there is great merit in the calm presence which David maintains 
 as he faces the blustering giant and scans him over. Other armed Israelites 
 are present : Goliath's armour-bearer holds his vast shield, emblazoned with a 
 huge effigy of Dagon. 
 
 124. *The Ghost of Samuel appearing to Saul. [Mr. Bohn, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Very effective in design. The Witch of Endor is wonderfully fine. Terrified 
 at the success of her own incantation, she brandishes her gaunt arms as she 
 sits, and her bristling hair bursts into sudden flame. Samuel, very massive in 
 form, and without the mantle over the head, points to the earth, out of which 
 he has been " disquieted. " Saul, a beardless man, not looking older than thirty 
 or so, is in the style of Fuseli. The heads of his two attendants appear 
 behind. 
 
 125. Bathsheba at the Bath, seen by David. [Capt. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 The Bathsheba and the two young girls who immediately attend her are lovely 
 figures ; another attendant, a grown woman, is seated on the edge of the tank. 
 David is in the right-hand distance, a very small figure. A beautiful treatment 
 of the subject, full in colour. 
 
 126. 4 And Joab brought Absalom to the king, and the king kissed 
 Absalom.' [Capt. Butts.] 
 
 Too glaring in colour, and conventionally heroic in character ; yet the Absalom 
 is a glowing image of youthful and princely beauty. 
 
 127. The Plague stayed at the Threshing-floor of Araunah the Jebusite. 
 
 [Capt. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 A gigantic ancient man represents the Plague ; the sky (as very generally in 
 the tempera-pictures) has as much red as blue in it. Remarkably fine. 
 
 128. The Judgment of Solomon. [Capt. Butts.] Oil picture (1) on copper. 
 
 Interesting. Blake surpasses almost all other painters in genuine expression 
 of the subject, by representing the sword-bearing soldier as in no sort of hurry 
 to execute the tentative command of cutting the baby in two. 
 
 129. *The Man of God and Jeroboam. [Mr. Bohn, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Has in it the makings of a very fine work, if carried further. Jeroboam's 
 arm has just withered ; the golden calf and the altar with a blue -burning flame 
 are picturesque. 
 
 130. Susannah and the Elders. [Capt. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 Fine. 
 
 131. Esther in the presence of Ahasuerus. [Capt. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 Miserably damaged, but has been a picture of very considerable beauty ; 
 especially the Esther and her two attendants. Ahasuerus has a glory round his 
 head and a Christ-like type of face ; the whole subject, probably, being treated 
 with a symbolic bearing — the Saviour receiving Human Nature into grace. 
 
 132. The Angel appearing to Zacharias. [Capt. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 Rich in colour and accessories, such as the altar-candlestick. The surface is 
 considerably decayed. 
 
 133. The Nativity. [Mr. Strange, from Mr. Butts.] Oil picture (?) on copper. 
 
 A most singular treatment of the subject. Mary, swooning in the miraculous 
 childbirth, is sustained by Joseph, while the Divine Infant bounds into the air. 
 Elizabeth holds out her arms to receive Him ; the small Baptist, on her knees, 
 joins his hands in prayer. Two oxen are at the manger ; the star of the 
 nativity sheds a flood of light. Mary is the most satisfactory figure of the 
 group. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 Q 
 
226 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WOEKS. 
 
 134. 1 Simeon was not to see death before he had seen the Christ.' [Mr. 
 Bohn, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 So marked. The subject is the ordinary one of Simeon prophesying over the 
 Infant Christ ; there are several bystanders besides Mary, Joseph, and Anna. 
 Washy but tolerably complete in colour ; a moderate specimen. 
 
 135. The Flight into Egypt. [Mr. Strange, from Mr. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 An angel accompanies Joseph, and two others follow the Virgin and Child, 
 while the air around them is peopled with cherubs. Pretty enough, but almost 
 ruined by the cracking of the surface. 
 
 136. The Eepose in Egypt. [Capt. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 The Holy Family are within a tent ; an angel at its entrance ; the donkey 
 outside. Very dark by decay of the surface, and otherwise injured. 
 
 137. Christ with the Doctors in the Temple. [Capt. Butts.] Oil picture (?) 
 on copper. 
 
 Has much expression of the subject ; the youthful Christ exalted in the 
 centre, the doctors rapt in wonder and meditation. 
 
 138. The Baptism of Christ. [Mr. Strange, from Mr. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 One of Blake's most beautiful landscape-backgrounds. The water, where 
 Christ and the Baptist stand, scarcely bathes their feet, but it recedes into deep 
 broad ripples, beyond which are a wooded beach, mountains, and a blue red- 
 streaked sky. There are several accessory figures, bringing children to be 
 immersed and so on, with a glory of angels in the heavens. 
 
 139. The same. [Mr. Strange, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 A water-colour high in tint, but not completed, allied to the preceding : a 
 work of imperfect character, but with fine indications. The ripple of the water 
 is peculiarly liquid ; the Baptist tends too much to the manner of Westall. 
 
 140. *The Transfiguration. [Mr. Dilke, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 The floating figure of Christ is in the centre : Moses to His right, with clasped 
 hands, and not distinguished by the usual horns of light : Elijah to His left, 
 with joined hands raised, and encircled with flames round the body; his hair 
 and beard ruddy. Behind each saint is an aged bearded angel, winged, and 
 suffused in yellow light, giving great individuality to the conception of the 
 subject. The three Apostles are in the foreground ; John with his head buried 
 in his hands, the other two gazing upwards. Fine. 
 
 141. The Pool of Bethesda. [Capt. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 The cripple is obeying the injunction to ' take up his bed and walk ; ' a good 
 figure. Low in colour, approaching to monochrome. 
 
 142. Christ blessing the little Children, [From Mr. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 Fine ; the surface cracked. 
 
 143. The Baising of Jairus's Daughter. [Capt. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 The figure of Jesus is exaggerated, especially in the action of command of the 
 extended left arm. Otherwise very fine in the expression of the figures. 
 
 144. 'But Martha was cumbered about much serving.' [Mr. Dilke, from 
 Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Washy in colour, and, in the details of the table, plates, &c. primitive. The 
 Martha and Mary are pleasing figures ; the latter in a posture of recueillement 
 upon a couch or ottoman, looking outwards (not up to the Saviour), as more 
 expressive of rapt meditation. Three other guests are seated at the opposite 
 side of the table. 
 
LIST OF WOEKS IN COLOUK. 
 
 227 
 
 145. * The Eaising of Lazarus. [Mr. Milnes, from Mr. Butts, j 
 
 Grand in emotion and point of view. Lazarus floats up at the word of 
 Christ out of a grave dug in the earth. Besides Mary and Martha, there are 
 two men on each side of the Saviour. 
 
 146. * 'Her sins are forgiven, for she loved mueh. , [Mr. Bohn.] 
 
 The Magdalen is wiping Christ's feet with her hair. Only laid in in colour : 
 ordinary, yet pleasing. 
 
 147. *The Woman taken in Adultery. [Mr. Strange, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Christ bends to the ground in the act of writing : the woman stands with a 
 subdued expression, very naturally given. The Jews are trooping out, all 
 their backs turned. Pale in colour, and not of the highest style of execution. 
 
 148. Christ raising the Son of the Widow of Nain. [Capt. Butts.] 
 
 The youhg man has almost a feminine aspect. The widow, following the 
 bier, raises her arms : she can scarcely believe her happiness. Somewhat 
 mannered, and without special prominence in any one figure, though the widow 
 is well conceived. 
 
 149. The Woman touching Christ's Garment. [Mr. Smith (South wick 
 
 Street), from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 A composition of many figures, disfigured by lankiness. Not a superior 
 specimen. 
 
 150. Christ giving Sight to the Blind Man. [Mr. Strange, from Mr. Butts.] 
 Tempera. 
 
 The figure of Christ is fine. The blind man is young, with something of the 
 character of Fuseli's treatment. 
 
 151. Christ's Entry into Jerusalem. [Mr. Stirling, from Mr. Butts.] Oil 
 picture on copper. 
 
 The upraised hand of Christ appears to indicate not so much blessing or ex- 
 hortation as a compassionate estimate of the transient enthusiasm which His 
 entry excites. Mary follows among His disciples, her head surrounded with 
 rays : the welcomers are chiefly children, of the mannikin type frequent with 
 Blake. The red sun is setting. The architectural distance seems to aim at a 
 sort of compromise between the typical forms of the Egyptian pyramid and the 
 Gothic steeple, resulting in an unfortunate approach to the Langham Church 
 steeple. 
 
 152. * And, when they had sung an hymn, they went out into the Mount 
 of Olives.'— Mark xiv. 26. [Capt. Butts.] 
 
 The general treatment recalls the final thanksgiving design of the Job series. 
 A fair specimen, pale in colour. 
 
 153. Christ in the Garden, sustained by an Angel. [Capt. Butts.] Oil 
 picture (?) on copper. 
 
 Fine in feeling of the superhuman subject and the dark mournful night. 
 
 1 54. * ' Judas betrays Him.' [Mrs. de Putron, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 155. < The King of the Jews.' [Mr. Bohn, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 A curious and interesting treatment of the Crucifixion, strictly symmetrical. 
 The cross occupies the centre of the composition. At each end of its arms is a 
 man, of a low Jewish type, but quite different in the two, about to nail down 
 the Saviour's hand ; while a priest is directly over His head, going to attach 
 the inscription : ' I. N. K. 1. ' Below, at the sides of the cross, are two corre- 
 sponding groups of bowed Apostles and women. 
 
 Q 2 
 
228 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WOEKS. 
 
 156. The Crucifixion. [Mr. Dike, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Christ, tlie two thieves, and the mocking Jews, form the composition. The 
 Saviour, His head radiating a yellow light, beams down upon the penitent thief, 
 a comely young man, at whom the older impenitent thief glares, as though to 
 shame him back into callousness ; the Jews point upwards tauntingly : all 
 powerfully expressed. A fine work, not carried to executive completion. 
 
 157. 'Christ taking leave of His mother.' [Capt. Butts.] 
 
 The crucified Saviour has almost a ghostly look against a very dark sky. 
 Many figures are present ; all, except the Virgin and St. John, bowed with 
 hidden faces. The feeling of grief is strongly expressed, and the composition 
 of a high class. 
 
 158. The Body of Christ borne to the Tomb. [Mr. Palgrave, from Mr. 
 Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 An interesting little picture. The body of Christ, with composed, finely 
 chiselled features, is borne on a flat bier by four apostles, the foremost being no 
 doubt John. Mcodemus, a venerable bearded man, walks midway by the bier, 
 bearing the vase of spices ; the Virgin and the two Maries follow. The glimpses 
 of the architecture of Jerusalem have a Gothic character (as introduced by 
 Blake even into the Job series) ; the three crosses appear in the distance, under 
 a blue sky streaked with yellow. The whole expression of the subject is serene 
 and sustained, rather than mournful. 
 
 159. The Entombment. [Mr. Stirling.] Tempera. 
 
 The Saviour, wrapped in a winding-sheet, is laid on the bier. Joseph of 
 Arimathea, the Virgin, and other figures, are grouped around Him, under an 
 oval, as if in the sepulchre. A composition of seventeen figures. 
 
 160. The same. [Capt. Butts.] 
 
 One of the greatest and most beautiful designs left by Blake : funereal, awful, 
 religious, tender. The figures are mostly in mourning black. John, standing 
 midway on the steps under the arched entrance of the tomb, holds a torch, and 
 hides his weeping face in a fold of his mantle. The Virgin Mother, to his left, 
 is perfect in beauty and the abysmal calm of anguish ; the Magdalen is on the 
 other side. The figure of Christ is singularly corpselike and pure ; Joseph of 
 Arimathea is at His feet. The composition includes nine other figures. There 
 is great harmony of spirit between the treatment of this subject and that of the 
 angel rolling away the stone, No. 163. 
 
 161. The Sealing of the Stone of Christ's Sepulchre, and setting of the 
 Watch. [Capt. Butts.] 
 
 Highly interesting (perhaps unique ?) in the particular point of subject 
 chosen, and in other respects an excellent example. A mason is mounted on 
 a ladder, using the trowel and mortar. The head of one Pharisee is extra- 
 ordinarily fine in its expression of alarmed and vigilant policy. Besides these 
 two figures, there are two other Pharisees and five soldiers. 
 
 162. The Eesurrection. [From Mr. Butts.] 
 
 163. *The Angel rolling the Stone from the Sepulchre of Christ. [Mr. 
 Strange, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Most spiritual, and with a great impression of silence : noble in light, and 
 the chief angel, seen from the back, with brownish wings, a magnificent figure. 
 Two other angels, who are lifting up the grave-clothes, are also very fine : 
 the Saviour is awaking into life. The light of the picture emanates from 
 Him ; the whole subject standing out upon a dark background of the stone and 
 sepulchre. 
 
LIST OF WORKS IN COLOUE. 
 
 229 
 
 164. Christ appearing to the Apostles after the Eesurrection. [Mr. 
 Strange, from Mr. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 A very fine little picture ; the colour, though not deep, well sustained. The 
 figure of Christ is one of the best produced by Blake — majesty and graciousness 
 deepened into pathos. Seven figures are in adoration before him— all probably 
 Apostles, though one especially might be taken for a woman. 
 
 165. Christ overcoming the Incredulity of St. Thomas. [Capt. Butts.] 
 
 Tempera. 
 
 Great in the expression of speechless, unspeakable adoration in the other ten 
 Apostles, earth-bowed. 
 
 166. *The Ascension. [Capt. Butts.] 
 
 Christ floats upward from the view of the eleven Apostles ; His back turned, 
 His arms extended. The sense of a perfectly accomplished mission is well 
 conveyed. Two angels float downwards to the Apostles, 
 
 167. The Conversion of St. Paul. - [From Mr. Butts.] 
 
 168. *Felix and Drusilla— 'Felix trembled.' [Mr. Strange, from Mr. 
 Butts.] 
 
 The Felix and Drusilla, awe-struck, with upraised hands, are very fine ; she 
 seeming to bow down in soul, with womanly faith ; very bright and tender. 
 Paul, an energetic figure, with handsome straight-featured countenance, points 
 right upward with his chained arms. Behind him are the gaoler and four soldiers, 
 all impressed, and forming a fine group. The colour tolerably high in tint, 
 but washy. 
 
 169. St. Paul shaking off the Viper. [Mr. Bohn, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 The group is not a noticeable one for Blake ; but there is a fine indication of 
 sea in the background. 
 
 170. The same. [Capt. Butts.] 
 
 Somewhat better than the preceding. The primitive astonishment of the 
 islanders is well expressed ; the viper is variegated with deep rich tints. 
 
 171. The Seven Golden Candlesticks. [From Mr. Butts.] 
 
 172. *' And the angel which I saw lifted up his hand to heaven.' [Mrs. 
 de Putron, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Described in the Sale-catalogue as ' very fine. ' 
 
 173. 4 The Devil is come down/ [From Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Described in the Sale-catalogue as a fine characteristic example of Blake's 
 vigour and talent. 
 
 174. 'He cast him into the bottomless pit.' [Mr. Fuller, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Described in the Sale-catalogue as ' very powerful and characteristic. ' 
 
 175. Scene from the Apocalyptic Vision. [Mr. Fuller, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Described in the Sale-catalogue as ' of grand conception, and highly charac- 
 teristic. ' 
 
 176. 'And power was given him over all kindreds, and tongues, and 
 nations.' [Mr. Fuller, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Described in the Sale-catalogue as ' equally characteristic. ' 
 
 177. ' The number of the Beast is 666.' [Mr. Fuller, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Described in the Sale-catalogue as ' of the same characteristic merit. ' 
 
 178. Eve. Pen-drawing coloured. 
 
 Lying in a trance : the serpent crawling over her body and licking her face. 
 Fine. 
 
230 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WORKS. 
 
 179. Satan exulting over Eve. [Mr. Strange, from Mr. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 Eve, a beautiful, gorgeous woman, lies prone in front, close involved in the 
 folds of the serpent. Satan, with shield and. spear, swoops over her, a solid mass 
 of tongued flame behind him. Very fine. 
 
 180. *The Devil Kebuked. Burial of Moses. [Mr. Strange, from Mr. 
 Butts.] Water-colour, with pen outline. 
 
 The corpse of Moses, as ancient-looking as Chronos, and the mere shell of the 
 inspired legislator, is exceedingly fine. It lies in a lax curve within the winding- 
 sheet, which four angels are lowering into the earth. Michael is rebuking Satan 
 in the sky ; the devil being of the athletic anatomical class, less Blakeian than 
 usual. The colour is not carried far, but complete enough in effect. 
 
 181. 'Thou wast perfect till iniquity was found in thee.' — Ezek. xxviii. 15. 
 [Capt. Butts.] 
 
 A gorgeous six-winged cherub, in a blue day-sky, starlit. He holds an orb and 
 sceptre, and is accompanied by a number of small, fairy-like angels. Bright in 
 colour and extremely grand : the wings nobly managed. 
 
 182. The Holy Family. [Mr. Bohn, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Elizabeth, the Baptist, and angels, are present along with Jesus and His 
 parents. The whole basis of the subject is too unrealistic to allow of its possessing 
 much interest ; the colour is pale. 
 
 183. The same. [From Mr. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 The Virgin, seated, holds the Infant Christ on her knee. Joseph and Anna 
 sit beside her ; the Infant Baptist, with a lamb, lies on the ground before them. 
 On each side is an angel, hands clasped, head bowed ; another behind, with out- 
 stretched wings. Very pure in feeling, religious, and poetic. 
 
 184. The Virgin hushing the young Baptist, who approaches the sleeping 
 Infant Christ. [Mr. Palgrave, from Mr. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 The Baptist holds a butterfly : his face glows with eagerness to show his 
 prize. Both he and the Infant Christ are naked. Mary has a very winning 
 and attractive air, nicely balanced between the virginal and maternal characters. 
 A red curtain, not harmonious in colour, forms the chief background object. 
 Altogether, the picture is an extremely pretty one. 
 
 185. *The Virgin and Child in Egypt. [Mr. Stirling, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Tempera. 
 
 Bust : front face. The Pyramids appear in the background. Very careful 
 and pleasing. 
 
 186. The Infant Christ riding a Lamb. [Mr. Stirling, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Tempera. 
 
 The Virgin, walking behind, holds Christ on the back of the lamb, which 
 follows the young St. John, who is feeding it. A very sweet idea, expressed with 
 refinement. 
 
 187. The Child Christ asleep upon a wooden Cross laid on the Ground. 
 [Mr. Stirling, from Mr. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 The Virgin is standing by, in contemplation. Fine. 
 
 188. Similar subject. [Capt. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 The Virgin, with an expression of inspired foreboding, is beautiful. Joseph 
 is also present, using a pair of compasses. 
 
 189. Similar subject. [Capt. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 A different and equally good composition, without Joseph. 
 
 190. The Infant Jesus saying His prayers — 'And the Child grew and 
 waxed strong.' [Mr. Strange, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Very radiant, and like a child's dream ; the colour slight, but bright. Jesus 
 kneels upon His bed to pray ; angels are all round the head and foot of the bed, 
 with Mary and Joseph behind, and two other angels floating abov.e. 
 
LIST OF WORKS IN COLOUE. 
 
 231 
 
 191. Christ in the Lap of Truth, and between his Earthly Parents. [Mr. 
 Milnes.] Oil-picture. 
 
 The interesting and characteristic, though not salient, picture which was 
 rather concealed than displayed at the International Exhibition. 
 
 192. The Humility of the Saviour. [Mr. Milnes, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 He is represented as a youth some thirteen years of age, holding a compass 
 and a carpenter's square ; a light plays round His head. Joseph, a handsome 
 man of middle age, has no supernatural light, whereas the Virgin is surrounded 
 by a vivid illumination. A dark sky is seen through the rafters of the shed. A 
 moderate specimen. 
 
 193. The Covenant. [From Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Described in the Sale-catalogue as 4 very fine.' 
 
 194. The Wise and Foolish Virgins. [From Mr. Butts.] 
 
 See No. 95. 
 
 195. The Assumption. [Mr. Fuller, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Described in the Sale-catalogue as an elaborate and exquisitely finished work 
 in Blake's finest manner. 
 
 ' Mercy and Truth are met together ; Eighteousness and Peace have 
 kissed each other.' [Mr. Dilke, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 The personified Virtues are represented in two figures (not four). Jesus (it 
 would appear) is the representative of Mercy and Righteousness : Truth and 
 Peace are embodied in a beardless youth. The two are seated, and turn round 
 to kiss and embrace, their arms meeting over a Greek cross. Above, at the 
 summit of some steps, is an aged man with a book, no doubt representing the 
 Deity ; He is surrounded by a glory of angels. An interesting work, yellow 
 being the predominant tint. 
 
 < The King of the Jews.' [Capt. Butts.] 
 
 A symbolic figure of Christ, standing nearly unrobed, with the reed and the 
 crown of thorns. There are great pathos and majesty in the countenance ; 
 though the executive treatment, high and crude in colour, is not satisfactory. 
 
 The Saviour in the. Heavens, with floating Figures of Children and 
 Angels. [Capt. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 May be assumed to represent Christ as the centre and hope of humanity — an 
 anticipation of the ' Christus Consolator ' popularized by Scheffer : or perhaps 
 (as expressed by Blake, p. 214, Vol. I.) "Eternal Creation flowing from the 
 Divine Humanity in Jesus." Curious. 
 
 *An Allegory of the Spiritual Condition of Man. [Capt. Butts.] 
 Tempera. 
 
 The conception of the subject seems to approach to that of a Last Judgment, 
 though not recognisable distinctly as such. Faith, Hope, and Charity, Adam 
 and Eve, Satan, can be traced among the figures. This is one of Blake's largest 
 works, some 5^ feet by 4 feet in dimensions ; interesting, and fine in several of 
 the figures, which stand nearly isolated one from the other here and there 
 throughout the picture. 
 
 200. Christ the Mediator. [Mr. Strange, from Mr. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 He is interceding with the Father, represented as an aged man seated in 
 kingly state, on behalf of a youthful woman, who is surrounded by angels. 
 Somewhat wanting in purity of colour. 
 
 201. * A Head of Christ in Glory. [Mr. Strange, from Mr. Butts.] Tempera. 
 
 Life-sized : a curious effort. Much patience has been expended upon the 
 dress, which is executed all over in a ribbed texture. 
 
 196. 
 
 197. 
 198. 
 
 199. 
 
232 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WORKS. 
 
 202. The Fall of the Damned. 
 
 203. * Judgment. Colour-printed. 
 
 Presumed to be a ' Last Judgment ; ' or, possibly, the ' Judgment of Paris, ' 
 No. 89(?). 
 
 204. * The Last Judgment. Tempera, 
 
 7 feet by 5 feet in dimensions, and estimated to contain 1000 figures. A 
 later work than the one belonging to Lord Leconfield, No. 74. See p. 358. Vol. I. 
 
 D. — POETIC AND MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 205. Eight Designs from * Comus.' [Mr. Strange, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 A delicate, quiet series, of small size, in pale colour, and a simple, chaste, not 
 elaborate style of form and execution. The backgrounds are tender and sug- 
 gestive. 
 
 (a) Comus with his Bevellers. 
 
 Starlight. Comus holds the enchanting cup : his companion revellers have the 
 heads of a pig, a dog, a bull, and (apparently) a parrot. The lady is reclined 
 upon a bank in front. 
 
 (5) Comus, disguised as a Eustic, addressing the Lady in the Wood. 
 
 The lady, slim and erect in form, is a charming figure : the Guardian Spirit 
 hovers near her. The wood is represented with upright sturdy trunks, unbroken 
 by lower leafage. 
 
 (c) The Brothers, as described by Comus, plucking Grapes. 
 
 A fine background of thick trees, and a sky indicative of approaching night, 
 with a yoke of oxen, and the Guardian Spirit in a lozenge-shaped glory. 
 
 (d) The two Brothers passing the Night in the Wood. 
 
 Each holds his drawn sword, and is stationed between two trees ; betwixt 
 them stands the Guardian Spirit, under the aspect of a shepherd. The moon, 
 in her dragon-drawn car, is above. ■ Fine in simple ideal feeling. 
 
 (e) Comus, with the Lady spell-bound in the Chair. 
 
 The lady's enchanted motionlessness is well expressed. Several of the 
 monstrous revellers are at table — a cat, an elephant, a lion, a pig, a long-billed 
 bird. A serpent is flying about ; a grotesque attendant, halfway between a 
 Chinaman and an ape, stands near the lady. Quaint and sprightly in ex- 
 pression. 
 
 (/) The Brothers driving out Comus. 
 
 Comus decamps, with the smile still on his lips ; flames burst forth at his feet ; 
 phantom heads loom above. The action of the brothers is lithe and impulsive. 
 
 (g) Sabrina disenchanting the Lady. 
 
 A rainbow arches over the nymph ; the rayed light is rising through a gap 
 in the hills. 
 
 (Ji) The Lady restored to her Parents. 
 
 A very graceful figure of the lady. The Guardian Spirit resumes his angelic 
 shape, and hovers off ; the brothers gaze upon him. A sweet effect of the sun 
 rising over the hills, with trees close to the figures. 
 
LIST OF WOEKS IN COLOUE. 
 
 233 
 
 206. Twelve Illustrations to the 4 Allegro ' and ' Penseroso.' [Mr. Milnes, 
 from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 A very pretty and interesting series, of small dimensions, in which Blake's 
 turn for personifying and idealizing comes out as strong as in the ' Prophetic 
 Books,' but divested of terror, and, of course, following the main lines traced by 
 the poet. Each design is accompanied by a slip of Blake's handwriting, giving 
 the extract from the poem and his own analysis of the design : the latter will 
 be subjoined here in inverted commas. The colour generally is very Blakeian — 
 bright, light, and many -tinted : it may be called ' variegated ' colour, like that 
 of a pale tulip. 
 
 (a) FromtJie 'Allegro'; — Mirth and her Companions — 'Jest and Youth 
 ful Jollity,' &c. &c. 
 
 4 These personifications are all brought together in the first design, surround- 
 ing the principal figure, which is Mirth herself. ' She is much larger than the 
 other figures. Fair. This has been engraved by Blake. 
 
 (6) The Lark startling Night. 
 
 ' The lark is an angel on the wing. " Dull Night " starts from " his watch- 
 tower " on a cloud. The Dawn, with her dappled horses, arises above the Earth. 
 The Earth beneath awakes at the lark's voice. ' Very pleasing in the effect of 
 the retreating night-sky, with some big scattered stars. 
 
 (c) ' Sometimes walking, not unseen/ &c. &c. — The Ploughman, Milk- 
 maid, Mower, Shepherd under Hawthorn. 
 
 'The "great sun " is represented clothed in flames, surrounded by the clouds 
 in their "liveries," in their various offices at the eastern gate. Beneath, in 
 small figures, Milton " walking by elms on hillocks green ; " the ploughman, the 
 milkmaid, the mower whetting his scythe, and the shepherd and his lass ' ' under 
 a hawthorn in the dale." ' The crimson-tipped flames round Phoebus in the 
 sun-disc gather like heavy locks of hair. The lower section of the design forms 
 a very small and pretty landscape-composition. 
 
 (d) The Village Holiday— 
 
 1 Sometimes, with secure delight, 
 The upland hamlets will invite,' &c. 
 
 ' In this design is introduced — 
 
 " Mountains on whose barren breast 
 The labouring clouds do often rest." 
 
 Mountains, clouds, rivers, trees, appear humanized on the " sunshine holiday." 
 The church steeple, with its merry bells. The clouds arise from the bosoms of 
 mountains, while two angels sound their trumpets in the heavens, to announce 
 the "sunshine holiday. " ' The lower part of the design, with a dance round the 
 maypole and a background of trees, is very sweet in feeling. Throughout there 
 is much pretty Springlike colour. 
 
 (e) The Fireside Stories of Mab, Robin Goodfellow, &c. 
 
 ' The Goblin, " crop-full, flings out of doors " from his laborious task, dropping 
 his flail and creambowl, yawning and stretching ; vanishes into the sky, in which 
 is seen Queen Mab, eating "the junkets." The sports of the fairies are seen 
 through the cottage, where "she " lies in bed, pinched and pulled by fairies, as 
 they dance on the bed, the ceiling, and the floor ; and a ghost pulls the bed- 
 clothes at her feet. 11 He" is seen following the "friar's lantern" towards 
 the convent.' The Goblin is represented as a giant ; his diaphanous body 
 takes the dusky tinges of the dawn-twilight sky. 
 
234 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WORKS. 
 
 (/) 1 There let Hymen oft appear,' &c. Marriage-pomp and Drama. 
 
 ' The youthful poet, sleeping on a bank by the " hannted stream," by sunset, 
 sees in his dream the more bright sun of Imagination under the auspices of 
 Shakespeare andJonson, in which is Hymen at a marriage, and the "antique 
 pageantry" attending it.' Extremely charming in colour; youth-like and 
 mellow both. The ' haunted stream ' has an incident to itself, seen below on a 
 small scale : — two women huddling upright at the sight of three female ghosts 
 of pained aspect, hovering over the stream. 
 
 (g) Iromthe ' Penseroso' : — Melancholy, Peace, Contemplation, &c. 
 
 Headed ' Melancholy — Pensieroso. ' ' These personifications are all brought 
 together in this design, surrounding the principal figure, who is Melancholy 
 herself. ' A refined design, the colour delicately in sympathy with the pensive 
 tenderness of the poem. 
 
 (h) The Moon and the Curfew. 
 
 ' Milton, in his character of a student at Cambridge, sees the moon terrified as 
 one "led astray," in the midst of her path through heaven. The distant steeple 
 seen across a wide water indicates the sound of the curfew-bell. ' The moon is 
 personified as Diana ; the stars grow on stems, like flowers. 
 
 (i) Astronomy and Speculation — ' The Spirit of Plato.' 
 
 1 The spirit of Plato unfolds his worlds to Milton in contemplation. The 
 Three Destinies sit on the circles of Plato's heavens, weaving the thread of mortal 
 life : these heavens are Venus, Jupiter, and Mars. " Hermes" flies before, as 
 attending on the heaven of Jupiter. The Great Bear is seen in the sky beneath 
 Hermes, and the spirits of Fire, Air, Water, and Earth, surround Milton's chair. ' 
 In the heaven of Venus are portrayed the Fall of Man and the Expulsion 
 from Eden. 
 
 (j ) The retirement to 
 
 1 twilight groves, 
 And shadows brown that Sylvan loves.' 
 
 ' Milton led by Melancholy into the groves away from the sun's ' ' flaring 
 beams," who is seen in the heavens, throwing his darts and flames of fire. The 
 spirits of the trees, on each side, are seen under the domination of insects 
 raised by the Sun's heat. ' The ' insects ' are 4 spiritual forms ' of insects — 
 fairy -like creatures. The sun is very vivid; the colouring 'marbled,' as it 
 were, with pinks, blacks, and yellows. This is altogether one of the most 
 memorable designs of the series. 
 
 (k) The Midday Dream by the Brook-side. 
 
 'Milton sleeping on a bank ; Sleep descending, with a "strange, mysterious 
 dream," upon his wings, of scrolls, and nets, and webs, unfolded by spirits in 
 the air and in the brook. Around Milton are six spirits or fairies, hovering on 
 the air, with instruments of music. ' Fine. 
 
 (I) An old Age of Wisdom and Insight spent in a Hermitage. 
 
 ' Milton, in his old age, sitting in his "mossy cell," contemplating the con- 
 stellations, surrounded by the spirits of the herbs and flowers, bursts forth into 
 a rapturous prophetic strain. ' A very fine and spiritual design, possibly the 
 best of the series. The ' spirits of the herbs and flowers ' are charmingly per- 
 sonified. The aged Milton is a noble image of an inspired sage : it will be 
 observed that Blake, following the poet's aspiration for his old age, takes no 
 count of his actual blindness. 
 
 207. Six Illustrations to Milton's ' Hymn for the Nativity.' [Mrs. de Putron, 
 from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 In a high style, analogous to that of the Job series. The triumph of Christ- 
 ianity over idol-worship forms the subject of more than one of these illustrations. 
 Very beautiful and highly finished, according to the Sale-catalogue. 
 
LIST OF WOEKS IN COLOUE. 
 
 235 
 
 208. *The Characters in Spenser's f Faery Queen.' [Lord Leconfield.] 
 
 The figures are brought together as in procession. Done as a companion to the 
 ' Canterbury Pilgrimage, ' but not so elaborate, correct, or exhaustive ; fine 
 nevertheless, though archaic and singular. The Eed-cross Knight with the 
 dragon, Una with the lion, Talus, can be readily identified. In the sky are some 
 allegoric figures, and in the background a Gothic cathedral and other buildings. 
 Eighty guineas, a large sum in Blake's case, was given to Mrs. Blake by Lord 
 Egremont for this picture, now considerably clouded over by its varnish. See 
 p. 365. Vol. I. 
 
 209. Eobinson Crusoe. [Admiral Popham (?).] 
 
 A visionary effect of colour, like a transparency. Fine. 
 
 210. ' But Hope re-kindled, only to illume 
 
 The shades of death, and light her to the tomb.' 
 
 [Mrs. Alex. Gilchrist.] Tinted water-colour. 
 See pp. 223—4. Yol. I. 
 
 211. Twenty-eight Designs from the ' Pilgrim's Progress.' [Mr. Milnes.] 
 
 Water-colours, often unfinished; one or two little beyond pencil-sketches. 
 
 These are rather small designs, having quite a sufficient measure of Blake's 
 spirit in them, but much injured by the handiwork of Mrs. Blake, the colour 
 being untidy-looking and heavy for the most part, and crude where strength is 
 intended. Two of the designs, at any rate, may be considered untouched by 
 Mrs. Blake. 
 
 (a) Christian terrified in reading the Book. 
 
 He is bowed under his burden, and, as Bunyan represents him, in rags. 
 Angry skirts of flame lour through a heavy-clouded sky. Valuable in invention, 
 and one of the most finished of the series. 
 
 (b) Christian leaving the City of Destruction. 
 
 He runs, almost crushed under the burden. The subject is powerfully felt. 
 
 (c) Evangelist directing Christian on his Eoad. 
 
 One of the most finished of the series. 
 
 (d) The Slough of Despond. 
 
 Pliable is turning backward to the City of Destruction. Fair. 
 
 (e) Help lifting Christian out of the Slough. 
 
 One of the finest. The background, with a crimson setting sun, is grandly 
 conceived. 
 
 (/) Worldly Wiseman directing Christian to Sinai. 
 An able design, with fine points of effect. 
 
 (g) Christian at Sinai. 
 
 The flames crudely coloured. 
 
 (h) Evangelist raising up Christian, prostrate at Sinai. 
 
 Dignified in design. 
 
 (i) Christian knocking at the Wicket-gate. 
 
 The gate, of Gothic form, bears the inscription, 1 Knock, and it shall be opened. ' 
 The glimpse of landscape is impressive. 
 
 (/) Christian and the Interpreter, with the Man fallen from Grace, in 
 the Iron Cage. Half executed. 
 
LISTS OF BLAKE S WOEKS. 
 
 (k) Christian and the Interpreter, with the Man waking from a Dream 
 of the Last Judgment. 
 
 (I) Christian before the Crucifix, his Burden falling off. 
 
 One of the most finished and inventive in design. A trailing vine is pro- 
 minently introduced. 
 
 (m) The Three Shining Ones saluting Christian at the Cross. 
 
 (n) Christian sleeping in the Arbour. 
 
 This appears to be the subject. A couched lion is arbitrarily introduced, with 
 some separate incidents behind. 
 
 (o) Christian ascending the Hill Difficulty. * 
 
 Christian's ' filthy rags ' are now exchanged for the ' broidered coat. ' 
 
 (p) Christian passing the Lion-guarded Entrance to the Palace Beautiful. 
 Fine. 
 
 (q) Christian fighting with Apollyon. 
 Powerful. 
 
 (r) Christian beset by Demons in the Valley of the Shadow of 
 Death. 
 
 This appears to be the subject, though it looks as much like the First 
 Temptation of Christ in the Wilderness — ' Command that these stones shall be 
 made bread. ' Besides the chief fiend, there are other demon-heads appearing 
 along a sort of flight of steps. 
 
 (s) Faithful narrating his Experiences to Christian. Only begun. 
 
 Besides the two pilgrims, two visionary discs representing the events nar- 
 rated by Faithful are given. 
 
 (t) Vanity Eair. Half-colour. 
 
 A harlequin is playing his antics, among other figures. 
 
 (u) The Soul of Faithful ascending in the Fiery Chariot. Half- 
 colour. 
 
 Fine in conception. 
 
 (v) Giant Despair locking Christian and Hopeful in Prison. 
 
 (iv) Christian and Hopeful escaping from Prison. Unfinished. 
 
 Other figures appear inside the prison — a point not expressed by Bunyan, 
 save in the Second Part of the ' Pilgrim's Progress.' 
 
 (x) Giant Despair baffled by their Escape. Unfinished. 
 
 (y) Christian and Hopeful, with the Shepherds of the Delectable 
 Mountains. Unfinished. 
 
 (z) The Shining Ones in Beulah. 
 
 But that the faces are mauled by Mrs. Blake, the tender rainbow hues of 
 this design would make it a charming one. 
 
 (a 1 ) Christian sinking in the River of Death. Pencil-sketch, almost 
 colourless. 
 
 (b 1 ) 1 Christian returning Home.' 
 
 So marked : interesting in invention. Christian, who here appears again 
 with the burden on his shoulders, is received by God, surrounded by a glory of 
 angels in the form of a pointed arch. 
 
LIST OF WOKKS IN COLOUR. 
 
 237 
 
 212. Oberon, Titania, and Puck, with Fairies dancing. [Mr. Cary, 
 Bloomsbury.] 
 
 Fine. Oberon is a kingly, crowned figure ; Titania sweet and graceful ; Puck 
 has a capital face, full of mischief, yet very unlike the ordinary conception. 
 The clasped arms and hands of the fairy ring present a highly dance-like action ; 
 the accepted idea of fairies is adhered to, and expressed in very true keeping ; 
 they are not, however, of diminutive size. 
 
 213. Oberon and Titania on a Lily. [Mr. William Eussell.] Tinted. 
 
 Exhibited in Manchester in 1857. See p. 3. Yol. I. 
 
 214. Seven Heads, or Groups of Heads, from Shakespeare : — Lear and 
 Cordelia ; the same (?) ; Lear (?) ; Juliet with the sleeping Draught ; 
 Macbeth and his Wife \ Othello and Desdemona ; Falstaff and 
 Prince Hal. [Mr. Strange, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Mounted around No. 70, List 2. These small heads are no doubt early 
 works, neat and vapid in manner, and far from satisfactory in character. The 
 Juliet is perhaps the best. 
 
 215. The Eiver of Life. [Capt. Butts.] 
 
 A fine and very captivating specimen, exquisitely composed, and moderately 
 complete in execution. A mother and two children, admirably in motion, are 
 launched upon the blue river, whose current flows smooth and rapid : at the 
 sides are two figures with flutes ; on the banks, houses and trees ; and in the 
 central heaven a golden sun and a male figure darting downward. A second 
 female figure on the river, coming forward against the current, seems to be 
 vainly endeavouring to stem it. 
 
 216. Letho Similis. [British Museum.] 
 
 A design for a monument : the female figure (lying upon a tomb inscribed as 
 in the title), pure and graceful, more like Flaxman's style of form than Blake's, 
 and tinted to represent marble. She appears to symbolize the hope of immor- 
 tality in the slumber of death, realizing the conception of the words, ' She is 
 not dead, but sleepeth.' The rest of the design, flowers and foliage treated 
 in a simple naturalistic manner, seems certainly not to be the handiwork of 
 Blake ; indeed, the authorship of the entire work may be questioned. 
 
 217. Tithonus and Aurora. [Sir John Simeon.] Body-colour. 
 
 The title suggested may be correct. 
 
 218. *' And Pity, like a naked, new-born babe 
 Striding the blast, or Heaven's Cherubim horsed 
 Upon the sightless couriers of the air.' — Macbeth. 
 
 [Mr. Fuller Maitland.] Colour-printed. 
 
 Blake does not seem to have had any particular idea to express in this 
 design, but to have taken the words of the quotation and let them carry him 
 as far as they could. "We have accordingly a naked child borne off by two 
 supernatural figures riding blind horses through the air : a woman, apparently 
 the newly-delivered mother of the child, lies in front, dead or tranced, her blue 
 eyes open, but with no ' speculation, ' her hands clasped below the uncovered 
 bosom ; a grand figure, at once beautiful and terrible. The unearthly strange- 
 ness and impetuosity of the upper group maintain the great quality of this 
 design, which is moreover a very fine piece of colour, the green of the grassy 
 earth and the slaty purple of the twilight sky telling for a good deal in its 
 general effect. Captain Butts possesses a splendid duplicate, deeper in colour. 
 
 219. Age teaching Youth. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 Youth is personified in a male and a female figure, seated on the grass ; the 
 former is in a dress of various bright colours. Pleasing. 
 
238 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WOKKS. 
 
 220. An Old Man and a "Woman in contemplative Adoration amid Trees. 
 
 [Mrs. Alex. Gilchrist.] 
 
 Unfinished ; dignified in character. A ray of colourless light comes towards 
 the figures. 
 
 221. Churchyard Spectres frightening a Schoolboy. [Mrs. Alex. Gilchrist. J 
 
 Only half executed, but exceedingly strong in conception of the subject 
 One of the spectres is a howling old woman, who bursts out upon the schoolboy, 
 hovering close to a tombstone. Another stands in the opening of the gabled 
 church-door ; an old Hebraic pedagogic man, who points to his fellow-spectre 
 and holds a naming birch-rod. A break in the clouds shows the blue of the 
 night-sky and two big stars. 
 
 222. ' The Lord hath broken the staff of the wicked.' [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 A smaller design, similar to the following. The background is black ; the 
 colouring bad — perhaps the handiwork of Mrs. Blake. 
 
 223. The same. [Mr. Strange.] Water-colour, with slight pen outline. 
 
 The subject is a pope, escorted through hell by a demon or avenging angel, 
 and witnessing the punishment of kings and barons sunk in a fiery swamp. 
 These figures are admirable. The pope, manacled, turns backward to stare at 
 a naked man tumbling through the air, entwined by a serpent. Yery horrid 
 in conception. 
 
 224. * Plague. [Mr. Mcholson, Waverley Abbey.] 
 
 A fine duplicate of No. 55, a good deal neater in handling, and with more 
 points of ' classic ' treatment. 
 
 225. Designs from English History — A Series. 
 
 An early work. 
 
 226. A Eecumbent Figure, hovered over by Angels. [Mr. Chance, London 
 Street, Fitzroy Square.] 
 
 Delicate in glow of colour ; the composition very characteristic and spiritual. 
 
 227. War. [Mr Fuller, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 228. Hecate. [Capt. Butts.] Colour-printed. 
 
 The triple Hecate is crouched to the right ; three separate figures, close 
 together, exceedingly grand. To the left appears a donkey browsing, with an 
 owl, and a crocodilean head : an elfin bat flits over the Hecate figures. 
 Executed with great depth and completeness of effect, and altogether not to 
 be surpassed in Blake's special range of power. The National Gallery in 
 Edinburgh possesses a duplicate. 
 
 229. Exodus, Ch. xxix. 20. [Mr. Strange.] 
 
 So marked, but the subject does not correspond with the quotation. It 
 represents a dead lord in the tomb, in perfect calm, with two praying angels 
 above, their wing-tips meeting ; they float upward from his head and feet. 
 Finely expressed in subject ; the execution, slight in colour, is not of Blake's 
 highest quality. 
 
 230. A Husband parting from his Wife and Child — Two Assassins lurking 
 in Ambush. [Mrs. Alex. Gilchrist.] 
 
 Beautiful in tone and sentiment ; the young wife especially tender and 
 gentle. The full moon shines over a lake. One of the assassins is a woman of 
 the lowest animal type, yet without any aspect of peculiar ferocity ; she holds 
 two daggers. 
 
LIST OF WOEKS IN COLOUR. 
 
 239 
 
 231. The Accusers of Theft, Adultery, and Murder. [British Museum. 
 
 Colour-printed. 
 
 A coloured version of the design partially engraved (from a steel plate) on 
 p. 256, Yol. I. : the middle figure in dark plate-armour. Very grand. 
 
 232. An Aged Man addressing a Multitude. [British Museum.] Colour- 
 printed. 
 
 He stands under a tree, speaking in command or exhortation : the listeners 
 seem to be despondent, as under some national calamity. Good, without 
 extravagance of form or colour. Accurately and fully executed in strong, 
 bright tints. 
 
 233. Misfortune and Happiness (1). [British Museum.] Colour-printed. 
 
 A mourning woman crouches under a drooping, blasted tree -trunk. In 
 front of her stands a beautiful naked young woman, tossing and kissing her 
 naked child ; a charmingly designed group. A little red bird flying to the 
 right, relieved upon a background of densest cloud, deserves notice for the 
 daringly simple way in which it is executed. Eichly coloured in masses, with 
 little or no subsequent re -touching. 
 
LIST No. 2. 
 
 OTCOLOUEED WOKKS, 
 
 Including Drawings in Indian Ink, or with merely slight Washes of Colour. 
 
 * Means considerable size. The Works not otherwise defined are known or assumed to be 
 
 Pencil-drawings. 
 
 SECTION A. — DATED WOKKS. 
 
 ARRANGED IN ORDER OF DATE. 
 
 1. 1778 (?).— Sketch for the 'Jane Shore.' [Mrs. Alex. Gilchrist.] 
 
 Neat and rather ordinary in style, not quite unlike Retzsch, but with fair 
 merit on inspection. The spectators of Jane's penance are good in expression. 
 See No. 1, List 1. 
 
 2. Circa 17 91 (?). — A Naked Man, touching a Kani as he recedes. [Mr. 
 
 Harvey.] 
 
 Daringly designed. At the back Blake has written, in title-page form, ' The 
 Bible of Hell, in Nocturnal Visions collected. Vol. I. Lambeth. ' This will be 
 understood by the readers of 4 The Marriage of Heaven and Hell. ' 
 
 3. 1793. — Ugolino. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 In outline ; a preparation for the design in the ' Gates of Paradise. ' 
 
 4. 1793. — A Visionary Head (?). [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 Apparently a man of Blake's own time. On the back of the preceding. 
 
 5. 1794. — The Death of Ezekiel's Wife. [Mr. Palgrave.] Indian ink. 
 
 The original design for the very finished plate referred to on pp. 136-7, 
 Vol. I. The prophet has a fine bearded head, different in type from that 
 assigned by Blake Job. There are three crouching friends, one of them a 
 woman. A good average specimen. 
 
 6. 1796 (?). — *Job and his Friends — ' What is man that Thou shouldst try 
 
 him every moment 1 1 [Mr. Palgrave.] Indian ink. 
 
 The plate from this design is described on p. 137, Vol. I. In outline ; rather 
 empty in manner. The friends are somewhat deficient in distinctive character. 
 
 7. 1797. — Designs in an unpublished Prophetic Book, named 'Vala, or 
 
 the Death and Judgment of the Ancient Man : a Dream of Nine 
 Nights ; by William Blake.' [Mr. Linnell] 
 
 There are a good number of designs, some thirty or forty, interspersed through 
 this MS. as in the printed 6 Prophetic Books,' and of the same general character ; 
 but, whether through the want of the vigorous effects obtained in the engraving 
 process, or through real inferiority, they fall short of the printed ones in im- 
 pressiveness. A design of a hooded snake with a woman's face is curious. 
 
 8. 1800.— The Head-piece of 'Little Tom the Sailor.' [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 Done in a neat unimpulsive style, not nearly so effective as in the engraving. 
 
LIST OF UNCOLOURED WORKS. 
 
 241 
 
 9. 1802(1). — Sketch for a Frontispiece to 'Young's Mght Thoughts ' (!). 
 
 [Mr. Harvey.] Pencil outline, partly gone over with ink. 
 
 A figure which seems to be that of a poet in contemplation, and which is not 
 unlike the type adopted for the figure of Young in the illustrated ' Night 
 Thoughts, ' appears at the foot of the composition ; the chariot of the sun at the 
 summit, and some night-like symbols next below. Curious. 
 
 10. 1802. — Design for Hayley's 'Ballad of the Eagle.' [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 On the back of the preceding ; this is unfortunately cut in half lengthways. 
 It is handled with considerable care, and differs throughout in the details 
 from the engraved design, though there is no mistaking the connexion of 
 the two. 
 
 11. 1 805 (?). — A Soul at the Door of Paradise (?). [Mr. Palgrave.] Indian ink. 
 
 Slight in execution and ordinary in design ; probably intended for Blair's 
 ' Grave. ' The soul is a female figure, and two female angels stand within the 
 door. 
 
 12. 1805. — The Old Man at Death's Door. [Mr. Palgrave.] 
 
 Sketched on the back of the preceding. A preparatory design for the subject 
 in Blair's ' Grave. ' 
 
 13. 1805. — The Death of a Voluptuary. [Mr. Palgrave.] Indian ink. 
 
 Interesting as being a close parallel in design, but not in character, to 
 that of ' The Soul hovering over the Body, ' engraved in the ' Grave ; ' not at all 
 like the engraved ' Death of the Strong Wicked Man.' The dead voluptuary 
 is crowned with vine-leaves ; his soul, a female figure expressive of coarse 
 passions, contemplates him with repulsion. Scratchy and rather ugly in 
 execution. 
 
 14. 1805. — A young Man entering Death's Door. [Mr. Harvey.] Indian 
 
 ink. 
 
 Probably a preparatory version of ' The Soul exploring the Kecesses of the 
 Grave. ' 
 
 15. 1805. — A Design originally intended for Blair's 'Grave' — 'The Soul 
 
 exploring the Becesses of the Grave (?).' [Mr. Harvey.] Slightly 
 washed with Indian ink. 
 
 A figure in an ascending action at the summit of a monument, with another 
 below precipitated into the dark void. Somewhat outre, and not the same 
 composition as in the engraving. 
 
 16. 1805.— The Death of the Strong Wicked Man— Blair's ' Grave/ [Mr. 
 
 Harvey.] 
 
 A very slovenly sketch of the principal figure in the engraved design, along 
 with the Soul, which is here more in the attitude adopted in the engraving for 
 ' The Soul hovering over the Body' See No. 13, and pp. 221-2. Vol. I. 
 
 17. 1805. — The Ascension of the beatified Soul(v). [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 On the back of the preceding. The figure assumed to represent the soul 
 is rising into the air from amid several other figures, and about to ascend 
 through a pointed- arched window. Very slight. 
 
 18. 1805. — Plague. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 An expressive and reasonably careful sketch for the grand water-colour 
 No. 55, List 1, engraved facing p. 54, Vol. I. 
 
 19. Circa 1805 (?).—' Let loose the Dogs of War.' TMr. Buskin.] See 
 
 pp. 54-5. Vol. I. 
 
 A savage cheering on hounds, who seize a man by the throat. "Very fine. 
 Evidently connected with a design engraved in Young's ' Mght Thoughts, 
 though by no means identical with it. (The statement in the Life, p. 55, that 
 Mr. Linnell possesses a water-colour of this drawing, is a mistake). 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 R 
 
LISTS OF BLAKE'S WORKS. 
 
 1806. — *Sketch for the Design of the Dedication to Blair's 'Grave. 
 [Mrs. Alex. Gilchrist.] 
 
 Kather slight, but the intention fully expressed. A sketch for No. 70, List 1. 
 1806 (?).—*' For the Grave.' [Mr. Palser, Strand.] 
 
 So marked (not in Blake's handwriting). A sketchy beginning of a very 
 elaborate composition. It may be conjectured to represent the Human Spirit 
 and Life in various conditions. The central point is a number of figures float- 
 ing round a tree (the Tree of Life, or of the Knowledge of Good and Evil ?) ; 
 other figures are dragging their fellows along, or being dragged, falling, 
 praying, and so on. Like the following two, interesting and full of matter. 
 
 1807. — *The Last Judgment. [Mr. Palser.] 
 
 A most elaborately planned treatment of the subject, crowded with figures, 
 neatly and distinctly drawn : corresponding (at all events, in various points) with 
 the composition described in the i Vision of the Last Judgment,' p. 358, Vol. I.; 
 not like the one in Blair's ' Grave. ' Christ appears at the summit ; before Him, 
 Adam and Eve, standing ; at the bottom, the Devil, triple-headed ; to Christ's 
 right, the Just ascending ; to His left, the Condemned cast downwards. Marked 
 ' The Original Drawing of Blake's Last Judgment.' Very interesting. 
 
 1807. — *The same. [Mr. Palser.] 
 
 A tracing from a completer version of the preceding design ; the whole 
 scheme of the subject being more fully shown, the number of figures still 
 greater. Inscribed by Mr. Tatham : ' A tracing of an elaborate drawing of his 
 Last Judgment. The original picture was six feet long and about five wide, and 
 was very much spoiled and darkened by over- work ; and is one of those alluded 
 to in his Catalogue as being spoiled by the spirits of departed artists, or 
 ' ' blotting and blurring demons. " This tracing is from some elaborate drawing 
 which has never been engraved. ' 
 
 1809 or earlier. — The Spirit of Nelson guiding Leviathan, in whose 
 Folds are entangled the Nations of the Earth. [Mr. Evans.] 
 
 So marked at the back by Blake. Nelson, a naked figure, stands in the 
 middle, with the convolutions of the serpentine Leviathan, and heads and 
 limbs of other human figures therein, rising on each side of him. A hasty 
 and rather slovenly sketch, preparatory, no doubt, to the picture, List 1, 
 No. 79, referred to in the Descriptive Catalogue, p. 119, Vol. II. 
 
 Erom 1789 to 181 1, at least. — The Book of Sketches and MS. 
 belonging to Mr. Rossetti (see p. 89 ,Vol. I.) contains a number of 
 sketches more or less slight, first thoughts of designs, &c. ; among 
 them the following. 
 
 (a) A tiger-like animal frightening a man, who escapes out of window : 
 below, another head of the tiger. Pen and ink. 
 
 The lower head especially, which has a very actual character, and yet looks 
 as if it might have been a ' vision, ' is capital. 
 
 (6) Various sketches of a frightful gigantic old man devouring a human 
 being. 
 
 Perhaps Lucifer with Judas, from Dante's 'Hell '; but not corresponding with 
 the design in the Dante series. 
 
 (c) i8io(?).— The Portrait of Blake engraved at p. 172, Vol. I. 
 
 On the same page is this curious entry : ' 23 May, 1810, found the Word 
 golden. ' — Does ' the Word ' mean ' the Bible ' ? 
 
 (d) A Vision of Eear, and a Vision of Hope. 
 
 The Fear is two men precipitated through space, in the folds of a serpent : 
 the Hope is most peculiar — merely a view of long human hair from the back of 
 the head, gently waving. 
 
LIST OF UNCOLOURED WORKS. 
 
 243 
 
 (e) 1789, &c, 1793-5. — Several sketches for designs in 'Thel' and 
 other Prophetic Books, and for the ' Gates of Paradise/ and ' Elohim 
 creating Adam.' Pencil, or Indian ink occasionally. 
 
 (/) Sketches bearing the following titles or mottoes, or of the subjects 
 specified, corresponding in size, shape, &c. to the sketches for the 
 ' Gates of Paradise,' and probably intended at first to belong to that 
 series : — 
 
 (Z 1 ) ' Are glad when they can find the grave.' 
 
 Engraved on p. 60, Vol. I. 
 
 (g) 'Everything that grows 
 
 Holds in perfection but a little moment.' — Shakespeare. 
 
 An expanded flower, with two elfish habitants, one mounting, the other 
 sinking. 
 
 (h) A Cupid, or Infant, in a cage. 
 
 (i) 'A fairy vision 
 
 Of some gay creatures of the element 
 That in the colours of the rainbow live.' 
 Elves sporting in a rainbow. 
 (J) 'As Daphne was root-bound.' — Milton. 
 
 Daphne changing into a laurel-tree. 
 (h) 'Murder.' 
 
 An assassin approaching a sleeping man in bed. 
 
 (I) A man about to throw himself off a cliff, held back by the hand of 
 another man. 
 
 (m) * Yet cannot I persuade me thou art dead.' — Milton. 
 
 A mother gazing mournfully, yet tranquilly, upon a dead infant in her arms. 
 
 (n) 1 Whose changeless brow ne'er smiles nor frowns.' — Thomson. 
 
 A man chained against a rock ; appears to personify Fate, as the design 
 corresponds with No. 147, so entitled. 
 
 26. 1 8 19 and 1820. — Visionary Heads. [Mr. Linnell.] 
 
 For some account of these most curious and often most characteristic and 
 excellent heads, see pp. 251, &c. Vol. I. The 'King Saul,' mentioned on 
 p. 254, is not to be found among them. 
 
 26a. William Wallace. 
 
 Engraved on p. 253, Vol. I. 
 
 27. Edward I. 
 
 Engraved on p. 253, Vol. I. 
 
 28. Edward III. (1). 
 
 A fine bearded head. 
 
 29. A Welsh Bard. 
 
 30. Socrates. 
 
 Vivid eye, talking mouth. 
 
 31. An Anglo-Norman King. 
 
 32. 18 1 9, 1 8th Oct. — The Builder of the Pyramids, and the Place where 
 
 Blake saw this Personage. 
 
 The head is engraved on p. 252, Vol. I. 
 
 R 2 
 
244 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WORKS. 
 
 33. Edward III. as lie exists in the Spiritual World. 
 
 Engraved on p. 254, Yol. I. 
 
 34. David. 
 
 Young, as he went up against Goliath. Radiant eyes, and a face capable of 
 much, for good or evil. Fine. 
 
 35. i 8 i9, 30th Oct.— Wat Tyler. 
 
 Marked ' By "William Blake, from his spectre, as in the act of striking the 
 Tax-gatherer on the head : 1 hour a.m.' A capital head with stubbly beard, 
 such as would make a good study for an artist's cartoon of the subject. 
 
 36. Wat Tyler's Daughter. 
 
 A laughing plebeian, with great eyes. 
 
 37. Saladin. 
 
 The kind of head that might do for John the Evangelist. 
 
 38. The Assassin lying dead at the Feet of Edward I. in the Holy Land. 
 
 A leonine face ; almost literally so. 
 
 39. ' Portrait of a Man who instructed Mr. Blake in Painting, in his 
 
 Dreams/ 
 
 An outre oval face, with something of a Mongolian cast, and a very prim 
 clean-cut mouth. 
 
 40. Uriah, the Husband of Bathsheba. 
 
 A heavy, stupid man, with a huge cerebellum and enormous bull-neck. 
 
 41. Bathsheba. 
 
 Sweet, soft, yielding, witty. 
 
 42. King John. 
 
 A little like the accepted head of King John, wonderfully subtle and daring. 
 Seems too noble for this bete noire of English history. As a work of art, one 
 of the very finest of the series. 
 
 43. Solomon. 
 
 Age about forty ; a piercing, reflective, sensuous Jewish head, the eye 
 exceedingly far back from the line of the nose, the chin blunt and very large. 
 Admirable. 
 
 44. Falconbridge, the Bastard. 
 
 A thorough fighter, with a bull-head a little like his lion-heart father. 
 
 45. Cassibelane, the British Chief. 
 
 Quite a civilized personage ; as Mr. Linnell says, fit for the head man at 
 Howell and James's. 
 
 46. Queen Eleanor. 
 
 Handsome : not very interesting. 
 
 47. The Empress Maud, Mother to Henry II. 
 
 The remains of a fine woman, but disagreeable ; the nose peaked, the mouth 
 disdainful and supercilious. 
 
 48. Mahomet. 
 
 Something like Mrs. Blake, according to Mr. Linnell : there is a kind of hint, 
 too, of the semi-nude Dr. Johnson in St. Paul's. The mouth has a grim smiling- 
 ness in it ; the forehead is very retreating, but powerful. Fine. 
 
 49. Boadicea. 
 
 A less exaggerated instance of the contour of face seen in the Builder of the 
 Pyramids, p. 252, Vol. I. Strong character. 
 
LIST OF UNCOLOURED WORKS. 
 
 245 
 
 50. ' Joseph, and Mary, and the Eoom they were seen in.' 
 
 They are both very young — Mary with a good deal of our contemporary 
 ' prse-Raffaelite ' character. The ' room they were seen in ' is a bedroom, wherein 
 are an elderly man and two children. 
 
 51. 1819, 13th Oct. — Kichard Coeur de Lion. 
 
 Marked ' Drawn from his spectre, quarter past twelve, midnight. ' Bluntish 
 features, steady, daring gaze : the kind of man to look everything, from the 
 devil upwards, in the face. (A second very slight profile of Cceur de Lion is 
 also in the series. ) 
 
 52. Canute. 
 
 Marked ' Dark hair and eyes ' — the latter extremely open, and gazing upward ; 
 the jaw heavily rounded, like that of an obese Frenchman. Not one of the 
 best. 
 
 53. Caractacus. 
 
 A most powerful head, with high features, great dark eyes, and compressed 
 forehead, singularly true to the conception of a lordly and vigorous-minded 
 barbarian. There is a curious resemblance, too, to the Caractacus in the fresco 
 which Mr. "Watts sent to Westminster Hall, though that is considerably toned 
 down in comparison. 
 
 54. Owen Glendower. 
 
 A surly, supercilious, unpleasant head, well realized. 
 
 55. Hotspur. 
 
 A wonderfully vivid image of an audacious fighting man, born to fight, who 
 will gain by dash what he has discovered to be gainable by instantaneous 
 coup d'ceil. 
 
 56. The Ghost of a Flea : — the Flea's mouth open below. 
 
 Engraved at p. 255, Yol. I. 
 
 57. Cancer. 
 
 Presumably a man born under the influence of the sign Cancer. A can- 
 tankerous, yet large-minded man, not wholly unlike Benjamin Franklin or 
 Blake himself, but of a highly outre type. 
 
 58. Nebuchadnezzar. 
 
 Yivid, and not wanting in truth to the Assyrian cast of countenance. Below 
 the head is a 'coin' of Nebuchadnezzar, engraved in Yarley's 'Zodiacal 
 Physiognomy. ' 
 
 59. 1820, Aug. — Old Parr at the Age of Forty. 
 
 A perfectly naked figure, aiming probably to represent a man admirably 
 constituted for vital strength and endurance. Carefully drawn, with the short 
 thorax characteristic of Blake's figures. 
 
 60. Friar Bacon and the Poet Gray. 
 
 So inscribed, but not by Blake. Yery slight ; on the same piece of paper. 
 
 61. Five Visionary Heads of Women. [Mrs. Alex. Gilchrist.] 
 
 Sketch engraved at p. 249, Yol. I. 
 
 62. 1820. — The Series of Twenty Designs to Phillips's Pastoral. [Mr. 
 
 Linnell.] Indian ink. 
 
 Delicately executed, with different degrees of finish ; a trifle larger than the 
 woodcuts (see p. 271, Yol. I.), and occasionally varying slightly from them. 
 The only one which was not engraved represents the two shepherds standing 
 together, with sheep, &c. behind. The engraved frontispiece is not included in 
 this set. 
 
246 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WOEKS. 
 
 63. 1825. — Job and his Three Daughters. [Mrs. Alex. Gilchrist.] 
 
 Slight in execution ; the design pretty nearly as in the engraved plate, but 
 without the visionary subjects in the background. 
 
 64. 1825-6. — The Six-footed Serpent attacking Agnolo Brunelleschi — 
 
 Dante. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 An interesting sketch for the Dante water-colour, List 1, No. 101, x 1 : the 
 central group fine. 
 
 65. 1825-6. — Brunelleschi half-transformed by the Serpent — Dante. [Mr. 
 
 Harvey.] 
 
 Sketch for No. 101 y\ List 1. 
 
 66. 1827. — Six Designs from the Opening of the Book of Genesis. [Mr. 
 
 Linnell.] Pencil, with tints of colour here and there, 
 
 These were drawn in the year of Blake's death. They show some uncertainty 
 of hand, but not much further change. They are, however, extremely slight. 
 The subjects are — 1. a Title-page, with God the Father and Son, the four living 
 creatures used as the Evangelical Symbols, and Adam ; 2. Similar subject ; 
 3. The Creator ; 4. The Trinity creating Adam ; 5. The creation of Eve ; 
 6. God setting the mark upon Cain. 
 
 SECTION B. — UNDATED WORKS. 
 
 ARRANGED ACCORDING TO SUBJECT. 
 
 C. — BIBLICAL AND SACRED. 
 
 67. Eve and the Serpent. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 A good design, in slight outline. The serpent is wound round Eve, who 
 appears (as in No. 75 g, List 1) to be eating the forbidden fruit out of the 
 tempter's very jaws. 
 
 68. God convicting Adam and Eve. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 Fine in feeling, spite of extreme slightness. 
 
 69. The Death of Abel. [Rev. Charles Forster.] Indian ink. 
 
 Abel lies dead on the ground ; Cain, a grand figure, stares upon the corpse, 
 with his hands up to his head. Adam and Eve look on from a distance, clasping 
 each other : they appear scarcely so old as their sons. Perhaps this design is 
 less intended as a direct illustration of the Death of Abel than as an ideal sub- 
 ject of the same class, in affinity with the headpiece to the ' America.' 
 
 70. Abraham preparing to sacrifice Isaac, [Mr. Strange, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 Indian ink, with slight traces of colour, and very highly varnished all 
 over into tone. 
 
 They both kneel, Isaac appearing quite reconciled to his doom. A small 
 design, probably early, and much closer to the ordinary artistic type of such 
 works than Blake's wont. As such, agreeably treated. 
 
 71. Jacob wrestling with the Angel. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 A delicate, able outline. 
 
LIST OF UNCOLOURED WORKS. 
 
 247 
 
 72. * Moses receiving the Law. [Mr. Palser.] Indian ink. 
 
 An interesting treatment of the subject, though not noticeable in point of 
 design. Moses, standing erect, extends both arms upwards at full length, in 
 the act of receiving the tablets. Flames are behind him ; and a densely dark 
 cloud conceals all, from the lower part of the tablets upwards. 
 
 73. * From Job : ' Every one also gave him a piece of money' (?). [Mrs. 
 
 Alex. Gilchrist.] Pencil, slightly touched with Indian ink. 
 
 Quite a different design from the one in the engraved Job series. The 
 supposed Job and his young wife sit in the middle, with tall female figures 
 approaching from the two sides. God and some cherubs are above. Interesting. 
 
 74. The Death of Ezekiel's Wife. [Mr. Palgrave.] Indian ink. 
 
 A different design from No. 5, less good. Ezekiel has an aspect of more 
 entire resignation ; the friends here are four in number. 
 
 75. The Prodigal Son. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 Extremely slight, but there seems scarcely a doubt of the subject intended. 
 The son rushes up a flight of stairs into the arms of the father, a Christ-like 
 figure, who kneels at the head of the steps ; a young girl kneels beside him, and 
 joins in embracing her brother. To the right, two figures stand aside, one 
 holding a very prominent pair of keys. Interesting in conception, and impulsive 
 in action, spite of its slightness. 
 
 76. The Parable of the Sower. [Mrs. Alex. Gilchrist.] Indian ink. 
 
 Christ (not a satisfactory figure) is represented addressing a number of persons 
 of all conditions. Behind, an angel in the sky is seen sowing the seed. The 
 merit of this design is greater on examination than its interest at first sight. 
 According to another interpretation, it represents ' Christ as the Good Farmer, ' 
 distributing His produce to the poor ; and a group in the background is a hard- 
 hearted farmer whose goods are being destroyed by lightning. 
 
 77. Christ as the Good Shepherd. 
 
 Different from the preceding, but in some degree analogous to it. 
 
 78. The Resurrection. [Mr. Simpson.] 
 
 A sketch for a design afterwards executed. 
 
 79. The Magdalene at the Sepulchre. ' She turned herself back, and saw 
 
 Jesus standing.' [Mr. Palgrave, from Mr. Butts.] Indian ink, with 
 slight touches of colour. 
 
 Mary kneels at the bottom of the steps leading into the sepulchre, wherein 
 are the two kneeling angels. She is just within the entrance-arch ; a graceful, 
 beautiful woman, with what might be termed a modern air (noticeable also, for 
 instance, in the engraved designs of Job's daughters). Behind her stands 
 Christ, whom Blake (as nearly always) aims to make noticeably 'handsome.' 
 Of course, the success in this figure is very qualified. The angels have a 
 tranquil, conscious air, conducive to dignity of presentment. An important 
 though not fully completed specimen. 
 
 80. Christ, after the Resurrection, appearing to the Apostles in the ' Upper 
 
 Chamber.' [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 On the back of No. 68. The Saviour stands right in the midst of the com- 
 position. Very slight, yet not destitute of impressiveness. 
 
 81. Christ showing the Print of the Nails to the Apostles. [Rev. 
 
 Charles Forster.] Indian ink. 
 
 82. Eve and Satan (?). [Mrs. Alex. Gilchrist.] 
 
 The supposed Satan is a vehemently flying figure, but wingless. A moderate 
 specimen. 
 
 83. Sketch of the Virgin, Baptist, and sleeping Jesus — List 1, No. 184. 
 
 [Mr. Linnell] 
 
248 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WORKS. 
 
 84. Christ trampling down Satan. [Mr. Chance.] 
 
 The supposed Satan is an aged figure ; his conqueror may possibly be Michael. 
 Or the whole subject might equally well stand for the New Dispensation super- 
 seding the Old Law. Noteworthy for grand, powerful, and correct drawing. 
 
 85. A "Woman amid Clouds, with Demons crouching below. [Mr. Chance.] 
 
 Religious and spiritual. Remarkable for the careful finish and almost pret- 
 tiness of the female figure ; at first sight hardly like Blake in this respect. 
 
 86. The Last Trumpet. [Mr. Palgrave.] Indian ink. 
 
 An angel in the upper mid-plane of the design is blowing the trumpet, the 
 tube of which comes forward in a conspicuous way. Souls, chiefly of women 
 and children, are rising from the earth, and received by angels. A moderately 
 good design, having no salient qualities of execution. 
 
 87. * The Last Judgment— also named The Tall of Man. [Mr. Stirling, 
 
 from Mr. Butts.] Red and white chalks, slightly coloured. 
 
 A composition of many figures, with Adam and Eve kneeling before the 
 throne of the Judge. Carefully finished. Resembling in general character the 
 Judgment in Blair's ' Grave,' but not identical with it — perhaps finer ; seems to 
 be a later and still more elaborate study for the same subject. 
 
 88. The Last Judgment. [Mr. Stirling.] Red and white chalks, slightly 
 
 coloured. 
 
 The Saviour stands between Adam and Eve, near the centre of the composi- 
 tion, holding a hand of each. In other respects, the same remarks apply as to 
 the preceding. 
 
 89. * The same. [From Mr. Butts.] Indian ink. 
 
 May be classed with the two preceding Nos., being in like manner related to 
 the Last Judgment in Blair's 'Grave.' (See also Nos. 22, 23.) Contains an 
 amazing number of figures, singularly refined. Few works of Blake could 
 contend, with this for elaboration and evenness of excellence. 
 
 90. * Angels conducting the Souls of the Just to Paradise. [Mr. Palser.] 
 
 Indian ink. 
 
 Fine, especially in its solemn freedom of motion and of dispersed arrange- 
 ment in the figures. Much injured, however, by a very prominent, ill-drawn, 
 outstretched arm. 
 
 91. Angels — the chief one holding an open book. [Mr, Palser.] In- 
 
 dian ink. 
 
 At the back of No. 95. 
 
 92. * The Soul entering Eternity. [Mr. Palser.] Indian ink. 
 
 The composition exhibits a maiden entering a door, guarded by two spiritual 
 women. Fine in its solemn, mystic air. 
 
 D. — POETIC AND MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 93. * Hector and Andromache (?). [Mr. Harvey.] Pen and ink. 
 
 This is a classic or heroic attempt, evidently an early one, and poor : the title, 
 'Hector and Andromache,' may serve to suggest the kind of subject, but is 
 not probably the correct one. 
 
LIST OF UNCOLOUKED WOKKS. 
 
 249 
 
 94. * An ideal Composition, illustrative of Spenser (?). [Mr. Palser.] In- 
 dian ink. 
 
 A figure, bearing some resemblance to Spenser and holding a book, appears 
 at the summit of some steps, along with two old men. A youth ascends the 
 steps to receive another book from the old man to the left. Below are two 
 women, with harp and book. Not a good design. 
 
 95. * An Illustration to Spenser (1). [Mr. Palser.] Indian ink. 
 
 Looks like a companion design to the preceding. The subject is a naked 
 man holding a sapling, and approaching five women with musical instruments, 
 amid trees. Tolerable. 
 
 9 6. Hamlet administering the Oath to his Friends (?). — An Incantation (?). 
 [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 Two on the same bit of paper. Slight sketches of an Ossianic, or Fuseli- 
 like, tendency. Poor as far as they go. 
 
 97. Lady Macbeth approaching the sleeping Duncan. [Mr. Palser.] In- 
 dian ink. 
 
 Not carried far beyond the outline. Ordinary. 
 
 98. Christian in the Valley of the Shadow of Death — Pilgrim's Progress (?). 
 
 [Mr. Palser.] Indian ink. 
 
 Erinnys-like demons beset him : an angel ushers him onward. Moderate. 
 
 99. Death shaking the dart. — Milton. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 100. Satan, Sin, and Death. [Mr. Harvey.] Slightly touched with colour 
 in the Satan. 
 
 A fine example, though only half executed ; the drawing rigid, but very terse 
 and energetic. 
 
 101. Adam and Eve recumbent, hovered over by Angels. [Mrs. Alex. 
 Gilchrist.] 
 
 A sketch which may have been preparatory to No. 75 e, List 1. The style, 
 comparatively florid and wanting in repose, gives the design some general 
 resemblance to the manner of David Scott. 
 
 102. Young burying Narcissa (?). 
 
 ' With pious sacrilege, a grave I stole, 
 
 . . . and muffled deep 
 In midnight darkness, whispered my last sigh.' 
 
 Night Thoughts, Night 3. 
 
 [Mrs. Alex. Gilchrist.] Indian ink. 
 
 Powerful in broad effect, and still more so in feeling. A lantern gives bright 
 partial light amid the darkness. Young holds the prayer-book, from which he 
 is repeating the burial-service on his knees. His head is less made out than 
 those of a boy and girl who gaze into the grave with wondrous intensity of 
 expression. If the subject is the one surmised from Young, the introduction of 
 these two children seems to be Blake's own addition to the narrative. 
 
 103. Capaneus, from Dante (I). [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 The group presents three men in energetic protest or enforced subjection. 
 Probably three of the sufferers in Dante's ' Hell of the Blasphemers. ' Quite 
 different from No. 101 y and z, List 1. 
 
 104. The same (?). [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 Another different design ; the actions grand. Four figures, slightly executed. 
 The writhing hair of the figure who appears to be Capaneus presents a crown- 
 like aspect. 
 
250 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WORKS. 
 
 105. Portrait of Mrs. Blake. [Mrs. Alex. Gilchrist.] 
 
 Engraved at p. 318, Yol. I. 
 
 106. Three bowed Figures worshipping the Sun. [Mr. Chance.] 
 
 A sketch. 
 
 107. ' For Children : the Gates of Hell.' 
 
 A slight sketch so inscribed, forming a frontispiece. It is dark midnight, with 
 a figure entering a door. 
 
 108. The Death of an Infant. 
 
 A small drawing, found among Stothard's prints. The mother is kneeling 
 by the cradle : the infantine soul is being carried by an angel to cherubs above. 
 
 109. Beauty. [Mr. Simpson.] 
 
 A sketch for a work afterwards executed. 
 
 110. Sketch for a Funeral Card. [Mr. Simpson.] Chalk. 
 
 111. Apis (?). [Mrs. Alex. Gilchrist.] 
 
 A kneeling figure of a man with a bull's head ; looks rather as if done from a 
 1 vision ' — possibly a man born under the sign Taurus ? Excellent. 
 
 112. Archimedes. 
 
 113. * 'And Pity, like a naked, new-born babe,' &c. [Mrs. Alex. Gilchrist.] 
 
 A sketch for No. 218, List 1, though differing considerably from it in 
 the details. Moderately good. 
 
 114. An Aged Man, with two crouching Women, exorcising three De- 
 moniac Figures. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 The 'three demoniac figures' recall strongly the trio engraved by Blake as 
 ' The Accusers of Theft, Adultery, and Murder ' (see p. 256, Vol. I., and No. 230, 
 List 1). The other main group is nearly the same as in the ' Europe,' p. 7. Fine. 
 
 115. A Naked Man, seated on the ground. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 Seems to be an Academy study. 
 
 116. A Dying Man crouching, with floating figures. [Mr. Evans.] 
 
 Characteristic. 
 
 117. * An Angel taking a huge stride in the air. [Mr. Evans.] 
 
 Has the energetic movement which Blake was wont to impart to such figures, 
 but is not a particularly good example. 
 
 118. Newton. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 A grand figure, quietly but carefully designed. See List 1, No. 22, which 
 this design corresponds to. 
 
 119. Wren. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 Evidently intended for Wren, the Dome of St. Paul's being sketched in the 
 distance. Eesembles the Newton (118) in general arrangement. His hands 
 trail along the ground. 
 
 120. The same. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 On the back of the preceding. Here the hands are up to the chin, expressing 
 great tension of mind in a forcible manner. 
 
 121. A Man tormented by a huge Serpent. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 The general conception recalls Prometheus. A woman is looking on. Fair. 
 
LIST OF UNCOLOUEED WOEKS. 
 
 251 
 
 122. Water Deities and lymphs. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 Sketched in a rather florid style. 
 
 123. A Squatted Devil, with young horns. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 The face is somewhat of the Satyr type. Ordinarily good. 
 
 124. Queen Mab (?). [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 A dreamer visited by a fairy. Slight. 
 
 125. Clouds personified. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 The intention appears unmistakeable, though the drawing is not carried far 
 enough to express it completely. Curious and good. 
 
 126. *Laocoon. [Mr. Harvey.] Slightly touched with colour. 
 
 Laocoon (a robed figure), and his two sons, are all standing, agonized under 
 the attack of the serpents. There is no direct resemblance to the celebrated 
 sculptural Laocoon, yet some analogy to it may be traced. Scribbly in 
 execution, and only second-rate. 
 
 127. A Human-limbed Elephant, dandling a similar Infant Elephant on his 
 foot. [Mrs. W. B. Scott, Newcastle.] 
 
 A most quaint and amusing sketch, probably a vision. 
 
 128. A Space of Sea, with a Rainbow. [Mrs. W. B. Scott.] Indian ink. 
 
 Very noble, full of unstrained power, and conveying, in the slightest form, a 
 great sense of space and movement on a majestic scale. Drawn on the back 
 of the preceding. 
 
 129. *Eive Designs to 'the Book of Enoch.' [Mr. Linnell.] 
 
 Slight in execution, and as intangible for description as the average of the 
 designs for the Prophetic Books. A miscellany of naked figures in conditions 
 that one does not accurately apprehend. 
 
 130. *A Pastoral Wooing. [Mr. Palser.] Indian ink. 
 
 The young shepherd, kneeling, pleads his suit to the father and mother 
 of his shepherdess, who stands coyly aside : the parents are seated under a tree. 
 An agreeable bit of old-fashioned Corydonism. 
 
 131. A Pastoral. [Mr. Palser.] Indian ink. 
 
 Two aged shepherds, one of them holding a Pan's pipe : milking, spinning, 
 and other rural and household occupations, are going on. A well-conceived 
 pastoral subject. 
 
 132. A King Praying. [Mr. Linnell.] 
 
 He has a hideous face, with shark-like teeth, and other repulsive details. 
 Might possibly be a ' vision ' of the King in ' Hamlet, ' in the praying scene ? 
 
 133. Yisiting the Sick. [Mrs. Alex. Gilchrist.] Indian ink. 
 
 A woman, holding a purse and a vase, is crossing the threshold of a cottage, 
 in which an old man has just expired. Another woman by the bedside, and a 
 girl, form the family. Not carried far. 
 
 134. The Mourners. [Mrs. Alex. Gilchrist.] Indian ink. 
 
 Four women, seated at the foot of a flight of steps, two of them having 
 their faces hidden. Fine in grouping and expression, and graceful as well. 
 
 135. *An Allegory of Human Life. [From Mr. Butts.] Indian ink. 
 
 A different composition, and to a considerable extent a different idea, from 
 Ho. 21, though there is probably some relation between the two. Here also a 
 tree, which may be the Tree of Life, is introduced. There are a great number 
 of figures, highly finished, representing various aspects of the soul and of life. 
 The whole may be compared to a glorified Masonic broadsheet. 
 
252 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WORKS. 
 
 136. A Drawing of nine Grotesque or Demoniac Heads. [Mr. LinnelL] 
 
 An early, finished drawing. The heads are of different types, showing sin- 
 gular or monstrous physiognomies, some having a quasi-demoniac aspect. 
 Inscribed by Blake — ' All genius varies thus : devils are various, angels are 
 all alike.' 
 
 137. Two Figures, with the Sun (or full Moon) to the left. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 A sketch of fair merit, not easy to describe ; the sort of design that one 
 finds in Blake's Prophetic Books. 
 
 138. Egypt. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 A naked, standing male figure, so inscribed. There is a quantity of acces- 
 sory matter, very slight and scratchy, and practically undecipherable. 
 
 139. A Naked Male Figure, seated on a Cloud. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 Noticeable for the outre turning-out of the right leg, extended in a position 
 which ought to be one of rest. Fair. 
 
 140. The Human Soul. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 A male figure bursting out of a sphere, a good deal like the figure named 
 ' Earth ' in the ' Gates of Paradise. ' Below is sketched in very slightly what 
 looks like a curtained entrance guarded by an angel. Curious. 
 
 141. A Female Torso. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 Looks not unlike an Academy study. Besides the female torso, there is 
 another something, which is either a male torso of the most rugged and rocky 
 contours, or an actual mass of rock. 
 
 142. A Titanic Deity, with some smaller figures. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 A small narrow drawing, of good quality in the character of the Prophetic 
 Book designs. 
 
 143. An Allegorical Design, with a Dome like that of St. Paul's. [Mr. 
 Harvey.] 
 
 Neatly sketched. The title of this design is subscribed, and looks more 
 like ' Theotormon Worm ' than anything else. 
 
 144. A Girl standing before two bowed seated figures. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 Looks like a design for a Prophetic Book. Slight. 
 
 145. A Man supporting a Swooning Woman. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 A sketch of smallish size, good in action. 
 
 146. A Crowd, with a Boy beating a Drum. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 Very imperfectly made out. 
 
 147. Fate. [Mr. Harvey.] See ."No. 25 n. 
 
 148. Nude Studies : Two Men throwing Somersaults, &c. [Mr. W. M. 
 Eossetti.] 
 
 The two figures specified are drawn with great care and completeness ; both 
 of them in difficult positions, and one — arched right over, at the moment 
 that his toes touch the ground again, — in a most daring action, quite a 
 curiosity. The other studies are a carefully-drawn leg ; a less satisfactory 
 prostrate figure ; and, on the back of the page (among others), a vigorously- 
 designed male figure, kneeling and bending forward, with the hands up to the 
 back of the head. 
 
LIST OF UNCOLOURED WORKS. 
 
 253 
 
 149. Pity, and other Personifications (one sheet of paper, front and back). 
 [Mr. W. M. Kossetti] 
 
 Also drawn in an accurate, firm, terse style. ' Pity ' is on a tolerably large 
 scale, a woman bending down to succour a man stretched out at length, as if 
 given over to death. On a much smaller scale are embodied Doubt, Dissipa- 
 tion, "Weariness, Luxury, Idleness, Gratitude, Indolence, Rage, Despair, 
 Deceit, Discontent, Joy, Avarice, Listlessness, Study, Cruelty, Distress, 
 Severity, Oppression, Misery, Mischief, and Protection ; each (except, perhaps, 
 Distress), in a single figure, mostly nude. 
 
 150. A Deathbed. [Mr. W. M. Kossetti.] 
 
 On the back of the ' Pity ' : fine, and characteristic of Blake's style. A naked 
 woman, her head bowed on the pillow and hidden by her outstretched arm, 
 kneels passionately weeping over her youthful husband, whose face has just 
 set into the rigidity of death. 
 
 151. Searching among the Dead on a Battlefield. [Mr. W. M. Kossetti.] 
 
 Two entirely distinct designs, one on the back of the other. There is great 
 expression of the subject in one where a dead horse's head appears in the fore- 
 ground, and a conflagration in the background ; though, of the two very rough 
 sketches, this is the rougher. 
 
 152. A Man approaching a recumbent "Woman. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 Slovenly, with no point of merit save the freedom of action. 
 
 153. Tyranny Enthroned (?). [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 In some respects, this suggests the Mil tonic subject of Satan giving birth to 
 Sin, though that does not seem to be the exact idea. There are several 
 figures, with plenty of action ; expressive, though quite slight. 
 
 154. ' In ?naiden meditation, fancy-free.' [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 A slight pencil-drawing, with figures in the air round a girl, who is reading 
 as she walks. Slight, and of a conventional tendency. The general feeling of 
 the subject seems to be such as would be conveyed by the motto above sug- 
 gested. 
 
 155. A Death-chamber. [Mr. Harvey.] 
 
 A vigorous pencil-sketch, large in style. A naked man in the foreground 
 appears to have died a violent death, to judge from his wrenched position. A 
 woman, sideways behind him, crouches in an agonized heap : three figures are 
 beside her, floating apparently, just above the ground. One might suppose it 
 to be Patroclus, Achilles, and Thetis with her nymphs, but that the Achilles is 
 a woman. 
 
 156. A Set of Twelve Drawings, of uncertain subject. Indian ink. [In 
 Mr. BicknelTs Sale, 1st May, 1863.] 
 
 This is a puzzling series — evidently a series; often very fine in invention and 
 composition. There is a sort of rational, consecutive look about the subjects, 
 which disposes one to believe that they illustrate some known story, rather 
 than any invention of Blake's own : some of them, however, might do for his 
 unpublished poem, "Tiriel," a piece of erratic Ossianism. Others suggest 
 Ruth, Lot, CEdipus, Lear, Priam ; but one fails in attempting to carry any of 
 these histories on through the whole series. I follow the order of subjects as 
 in the sale -catalogue, modifying some of the titles there given, with the view of 
 bringing out the subjects more distinctly. 
 
 (a) An Ancient Man blessing or advising a Damsel, an elderly Woman 
 by his side : all three kneeling on a bed. 
 
 A fine, careful drawing, very individual. The damsel, whose back is turned, 
 is robed in a richly-patterned dress, unusual with Blake. 
 
LISTS OF BLAKE'S WOEKS. 
 
 (b) The Ancient Man blessing a Blind Man ; the two Women behind. 
 
 Also fine and careful ; the glimpse of thin tree-stems through a door very 
 elegant. 
 
 (c) The Ancient Man asleep ; a young Woman beside him ; another 
 looking on. 
 
 Fine. Here the patterned dress disappears, but a patterned quilt comes as a 
 substitute. 
 
 (d) Figures kneeling near some richly-sculptured columns, seemingly 
 in awe at some impending catastrophe. 
 
 Not quite finished, nor so remarkable as the preceding three ; yet Blake-like 
 and mysterious. 
 
 (e) The Ancient Man bathing with a Woman in a streamlet ; another 
 Woman reclining on the bank behind. 
 
 A wonderful design, excellent in the tone and depth obtained with simple 
 execution. 
 
 (/) The Ancient Man, with a Woman watching the Blind Man. 
 
 The blind man is not one of Blake's finer figures, but more in the manner of 
 Westall. Less good than others, yet meritorious. 
 
 (g) The Ancient Man, and an aged Woman, playing Harps. 
 
 Good. 
 
 (h) The Blind Man walking with a Woman who has snaky hair. 
 
 Poor in touch, the handling being certainly not wholly that of Blake. 
 
 (i) The Blind Man cursing or denouncing a King and his Companions ; 
 Women kneeling to intercede. 
 
 Excellently designed and composed. 
 (j) The Blind Man, upheld on the shoulders of an athletic Herdsman, 
 addressing a kneeling Queen and others. 
 
 A very grand, inventive design ; the work of an artist having some affinity 
 to Flaxman, but more imaginative. 
 
 (k) The Blind Man, supporting a swooning Woman, and addressing the 
 King and others. 
 
 Good, though inferior to the preceding. A pyramid is introduced in this 
 design. 
 
 (I) A Woman contemplating the Blind Man, outstretched on a Vineyard 
 ground, apparently dead. 
 
 Fine. The vines, in lithe, tall ranks, are managed with a true sense of the 
 clear, tempered shadow among thick leafage. 
 
LIST No. 3. 
 
 WORKS OF UNASCERTAINED METHOD, 
 
 {Whether Coloured or Uncoloured,) 
 
 AKRANGED ACCORDING TO SUBJECT. 
 
 * Indicates that the Work is more probably coloured. 
 A. — BIBLICAL AND SACKED. 
 
 1. *He rode upon the Cherubim. [Mr. Money, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 2. The Departure of Lot. [Mr. Harrison.] 
 
 3. * Jacob and his Twelve Sons. [Mr. Slocock, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 4. Samuel. [Mr, Thomas, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 5. *The Waters of Babylon. [From Mr. Butts.] 
 
 6. *The Nativity. [Mr. Thomas, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 7. The Circumcision. [Mr. Martin, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 8. Christ and His Disciples. [Mr. Thomas, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 9. *The Beheading of John the Baptist. [Mr. Thomas, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 10. *The Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes. [Mr. Martin, from Mr. 
 
 Butts.] 
 
 11. Christ before Pilate. [Mr. Thomas, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 12. *Death on the Pale Horse. [Mr. Thomas, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 13. *Satan in his former Glory. [Mr. Thomas, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 14. Christ and the Church. [Mr. Golding, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 15. *Christ and a Heavenly Choir. [Mr. Thomas, from Mr. Butts. 
 
 B. — POETIC AND MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 16. *' So judged He man.' — (Paradise Lost). [Mr. Fuller, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 17. *' Awake, arise, or be for ever fallen.' [Mr. Fuller, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 18. *' 0 Father, what extends thy hand, she cried, 
 
 Against thy only son 1 ' 
 (Satan, Sin, and Death, from ' Paradise Lost '). [Mr. Fuller, from 
 Mr. Butts.] 
 
 19. *Subject from 'Hervey's Meditations/ [Mr. Money, from Mr. Butts.] 
 
 20. *One hundred and fourteen Designs to Gray's Poems. [The Duke 
 
 of Hamilton.] 
 
 Reputed to be among the very finest works executed by Blake. 
 
256 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WORKS. 
 
 21. 'I have sat down with the worm.' 
 
 Probably the same design as hi the 'Gates of Paradise,' and reported 
 to be fine. 1 
 
 22. A Dream of Death. 
 
 23. The Genius of Morning. 
 
 24. Portraits of the Actors Cooke and Kemble. [From Mr. Butts.] 
 
 The subjoined is a Debtor and Creditor Account between Blake and Mr. 
 Butts, which, as an authentic record of the scale of prices received by the 
 artist, and also as fixing the date of production of some of his most remark- 
 able works, deserves insertion here : — 
 
 Dr. Mr. Butts. 
 
 May 12, 1805. £ s. d. 
 
 Due on Account 0 4 0 
 
 12 Drawings, viz. — 
 
 1. Famine. 2. War. 3. Moses striking 
 the Rock. 4. Ezekiel's Wheels. 
 5. Christ girding Himself with 
 Strength. 6. Four-and-twenty El- 
 ders. 7. Christ baptizing. 8. Sam- 
 son breaking his Bonds. 9. Samson 
 subdued. 10. Noah and Rainbow. 
 
 11. Wise and Foolish Virgins. 
 
 12. "Hell beneath is moved for 
 thee," &c. from Isaiah 
 
 5 July. 4 Prints, viz.— 
 1. Good and Evil Angel. 2. House 
 
 of Death. 3. God judging Adam. 
 
 4. Lamech 440 
 
 4 Nos. of Hayley's Ballads .... 0 10 0 
 7 Sept. 4 Prints, viz. — 
 1. Nebuchadnezzar. 2. Newton. 3. God 
 
 creating Adam. 4. Christ appearing 4 4 0 
 Dec. 12— 
 
 Touching up Christ baptizing ... 110 
 
 Drawings, &c. sent from Felpham . . 14 14 0 
 Urizen, Heaven, &c. and Songs of 
 
 Experience, for Balance .... 0 10 6 
 
 3 Hayley's Ballads, per Brother . . 0 7 6 
 
 3 Ditto, Mr. Birch 0 7 6 
 
 4 Ditto 0 10 0 
 
 History of Master Malkin .... 0106 
 
 Dec. 25, 1805. 
 On account of teaching your son, at 
 25 Guineas per annum, to commence 
 on this day 26 5 0 
 
 Cr. 
 
 By Cash 12 12 0 
 
 5 7 0 
 
 7 Sept. 
 
 By ditto 440 
 
 Balance due from me [i.e. Mr. Butts] 
 
 previous to my going to Felpham . 14 10 8 
 
 By Coals, to 5 Oct. 1805 12 19 0 
 
 Balance paid to Mr. Blake .... 16 7 4 
 
 12 12 0 | 
 
 5 July. 
 By ditto 
 
 £66 0 0 
 
 £66 0 0 
 
ENGRAVINGS. 
 
 [The following Lists, especially the Second, do not, of course, pretend to completeness. 
 Size is given when it could be ascertained, except in cases where it has been already 
 specified, according to reference.] 
 
 WOEKS DESIGNED AS WELL AS ENGRAVED BY BLAKE. 
 
 IN VOL. r. 
 PAGE 
 
 King Edward and Queen Eleanor. 1779. See p. 201, Vol. II. . . 30 
 
 Morning, or Glad Day. 10 x 7 J in. 1780 32 
 
 Mary Wollstonecraft's Tales for Children. 8vo. Six Plates. 1791 . 90—91 
 
 Nine Plates to Gay's Fables. 8vo. Published by Stockdale. 1739 . 
 
 Ezekiel : 'Take away from thee the desire of thine eyes.' 19 x 14 in. 
 1794 136 
 
 Job: 'What is man, that Thou shouldst try him every moment'?' 
 See p. 263, Yol. II. 1794 137 
 
 Illustrations to Young's Night Thoughts. Folio. 1797 . . . 139—144 
 
 Little Tom the Sailor. Hayley's Broadsheet. 1800. 18$ x 7} in. 152—154 
 
 (An instance of the process Blake calls ' wood-cutting on pewter.') 
 
 The Weather House and Cowper's Tame Hares. Vignettes for 
 
 • Hayley's Life of Cowper. 1803 165 
 
 Nine Plates to Hayley's Ballads. 4to. 1805 160,168—170 
 
 Ditto, reduced, for the 12mo. edition 199 
 
 The Canterbury Pilgrims. 1817 . . , , 228—232 
 
 Small Plate altered from the same for Frontispiece. 8vo. . . 242 — 243 
 
 The Accusers of Theft, Adultery, Murder. A Scene in the Last 
 Judgment. Satan's Holy Trinity. The Accuser, the Judge, and 
 the Executioner. The first title inscribed on the background, over 
 the heads of the figures. Very powerful and terrible. 9 x 5 in. . 256 
 
 Moses 'laid in the flags by the river's brink.' Small Engraving, of 
 exquisite delicacy and finish. The figure of the mother, fainting 
 and fallen back from the little ark, is very beautiful. In the 
 background are pyramids, a sphinx, and river winding down the 
 land — a grand yet sweet ideal of Ancient Egypt. 4 x 3 in. 
 
 VOL. II. S 
 
258 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WOEKS. 
 
 JN VOL. 
 
 PAGli 
 
 Drowned figures, man and woman, lying on rocks by the sea. 
 Enormous eagle soaring above. Engraved after the fashion of 
 ' wood-cutting on metal.' Very fine. 5 \ x 4J in. 
 
 Adam and Eve. Subject looking at first like the Finding the Body 
 of Abel. Adam and Eve stand in impassioned sorrow over a 
 youthful figure — not dead, however, but manacled by the wrists and 
 ankles to the rocky ground — who turns his eyes upon them. A 
 sort of St. Peter's Dome appears in the distance. The design is 
 probably intended for a prophetic symbol of the Atonement. The 
 heads of Adam and Eve are each encircled by a nimbus. On the 
 background is inscribed, 'Type by W. Blake, 1817.' Very similar 
 to the headpiece of the America. 4 J x 3 in. 
 
 Group of Figures on the edge of a rock by the sea, gazing, as it appears, 
 on some awful or supernatural spectacle in the clouds and waters ; 
 roughly etched, in the same method as the preceding. A most 
 impressive, indeed appallingly suggestive, composition. 11 J x 8 J in. 58 
 
 Figure, with a glory, standing before a rising or setting sun or globe. 
 
 Mirth and her attendant Spirits. Milton's Allegro. Engraved from 
 the first Design of the series for the Allegro and Penseroso. Eather 
 small. P. 233, Vol. II. 
 
 Death's Door. For the Grave 240 
 
 Sacred to Simplicity. Female figure placing a scroll on a monument. 
 
 Four male figures. 
 
 A Man kneeling. Angels and Demons behind. 
 
 Etchings. Subjects from Shakespeare. (Sold at T. H. Burke's Sale, 
 Christie's, June 21st, 1852.) 
 
 Seventeen Woodcuts to Thornton's Virgil. 1820 273—275 
 
 Sweeping the Interpreter's House, from the Pilgrim's Progress. The 
 man who sweeps the parlour is here a demon-like figure, with 
 strong spiny wings, and the dust he raises is filled with numerous 
 insect-like spirits. A graceful angelic figure brings the water in a 
 bowl. Example of Blake's ' wood-cutting on copper,' very pamter- 
 lihe in treatment and effect, of signal richness and beauty. 
 
 Inventions to the Book of Job. Folio. 1826 282—291 
 
 Mr. Cumberland's Card-plate. 1827 35G 
 
 Dante. Seven Plates. Small folio. 1824—1827 .... 333—334 
 
LIST OF ENGRAVINGS. 
 
 259 
 
 WORKS ENGRAVED BUT NOT DESIGNED BY BLAKE. 
 
 IN VOL. 1 
 PAGE 
 
 Joseph of Arimatliea among the Bocks of Albion. 10 x 5 J in. 
 1773. Broad, effective Engraving ; trembling sunlight on the sea 
 
 well rendered 19 
 
 Sundry Plates, in the Memoirs of Hollis, of Gough's Monuments, &c. 19, 20 
 
 Asia and Africa. After Stothard. Allegorical frontispiece to a 
 
 System of Geography. 1779 32 
 
 Novelist's Magazine, 1779 — 1782. Eight Plates after Stothard . . 32 
 
 Don Quixote, PI. 7. The Decision of the Doubts concerning 
 Mambrino's Helmet. 
 
 Ditto, PI. 16. The Peaceful Death of Don Quixote. 
 Sentimental Journey. PI. 2. The Dance of the Peasants. 
 David Simple. PI. 2. David pays the Landlady, and relieves the 
 
 Distresses of Valentine and Camilla. 
 Launcelot Greaves. PL 2. Sir Launcelot enjoying the Humours 
 
 of a General Election. 
 Sir Charles Grandison. PI. 8. Miss Byron visiting Miss Emily 
 
 Jervoise. 
 
 PI. 9. Duel in Parlour. 
 PL 12. Grandison's Interview with 
 Clementina and her Mother. 
 
 Clarence's Dream. Eor Enfield's Speaker. Pub. by Johnson. After 
 
 Stothard. 1780 32 
 
 Scott of Amwell's Poems. Pour Plates. After Stothard. Pub. by 
 Bucldand. 1782 51 
 
 Lady's Pocket-Book. Two Plates. After Stothard. 1782 or 1783 51 
 
 Eitson's English Songs. Nineteen Plates, about half of them engraved 
 by Blake. Stothard. Pub. by Johnson. 1783 51 
 
 The Pall of Eosamond. Stothard. Circular. 12 in. Pub. by Macklin. 
 1783 5i 
 
 Zephyrus and Elora : Calisto. Stothard. Two Oval Plates. 8 x 7 in. 
 
 Pub. by Parker and Blake. 1784 55 
 
 The Wits Magazine. Pub. by Harrison. 1784. Eive Plates . . 53 54 
 
 Small Plate for Bonny castle's Mensuration. Stothard. 
 Battle of Ain, for Maynard's Josephus. Stothard. 
 
260 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WOEKS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Frontispiece to Lavater's Aphorisms. 8vo. Fuseli. 1788 . . . . 61 
 Scene from the Beggar's Opera. Hogarth. Pub. by Boydell. 1788. 
 Large, finely-executed Plate. 
 
 Democritus. Eubens. For Lavater's Physiognomy. Also for the 
 same a Vignette of a Hand and Arm holding a Taper. 4to. 1789. 
 
 Satan. Stothard. Small circular Plate, apparently for Bell's Poets, 
 but not used to illustrate Milton. 
 
 Stothard and Friends Prisoners during a Boating Excursion. Stothard 
 and Blake. 
 
 Elements of Morality. Fifty Plates. After Chodowiecki. 8vo. 1791 92 
 
 Hoole's Ariosto. The second of two Plates. Stothard. Pub. by 
 Dodsley. 1791 
 
 The Fertilization of Egypt. Fuseli. For Darwin's Botanic Garden. 
 4to. Johnson. 1791. A good Engraving, softer in style and effect 
 than usual 92 
 
 Flaxman's Outlines to the Odyssey. 1793 114 
 
 Steadman's Surinam. Fourteen Plates. Pub. by Johnson. 1796 . 136 
 
 Alfred in the Neatherd's Cottage. "> 
 
 Wat Tyler and the Tax-gatherer. _ _ . _ . 
 
 ■w-r- . T , y Engraved tor Johnson, 1797. 
 
 King John absolved. 
 
 Queen Elizabeth and Essex. 
 Death of Lucretia. 
 Death of Cleopatra. 
 Caius Marius. 
 Mars and Ehea Sylvia. 
 Frontispiece to Flaxman's Letter, representing the colossal statue pro- 
 posed to be erected on Greenwich Hill. 4to. 1799 144 
 
 Portrait of Lavater, published by Johnson. 1800. 'From a Drawing 
 in the possession of the Publisher, taken in 1787.' A superb and 
 masterly example. As an Engraver merely, Blake ranks high, on 
 the strength of this Plate alone. The lines of the face are especially 
 noteworthy for their skilful play, firmness, and delicacy. 
 
 Figure of Michael Angelo, for Fuseli's Lectures. 8vo. 1801 . . . 160 
 
 Six Plates, from designs for the Triumphs of Temper, by Maria 
 Flaxman. 8vo. 1803 171 
 
 Portait of Cowper, after Eomney . . \ _ TT . , r .„ 
 
 Ditto after Lawrence . . I VovHzyUysfye of Cowper. 
 
 Portrait of Cowper's Mother. After Heins. ) 
 
 j 
 
 Ditto, 1797. 
 
LIST OF ENGRAVINGS. 261 
 
 IN VOL. I. 
 PAGE 
 
 Cowper's Monument in East Dereham Church. Two Plates. F. Stone. 
 For the same. 1802 .167-8 
 
 ( Part of a Series to illustrate 
 Dream of Queen Katherine. Fuseli. I Sliakespeare< Pub> by Eiving . 
 Eomeo and the Apothecary. Ditto j t 
 
 The Shipwreck. Eomney. For Hayley's Life of Romney. 1809. . 178 
 
 Head of a Man in Fire. Fuseli. Life size. Vigorously and grandly 
 engraved. 
 
 The Idle Laundress. ) ._ , n ~ ^ , , T 0 ... 
 
 __ T ., , . ~ c Morland. Square. Pud. by J . K. Smith. 
 
 The Industrious Cottager. J . 
 
 Subject apparently from the Scandinavian Mythology (Thor battering 
 
 the Serpent [?]). Fuseli. Forcibly executed Plate. 9 x 7| in. 
 Plates for Eees' Encyclopaedia, illustrative of the Articles i Armour' 
 
 and ' Sculpture.' 1815-16 248 
 
 Cumberland's Thoughts on Outline. Eight Plates. 
 
 Fkxman's Hesiod. Thirty-seven Plates. 1817 . . . . . . 247-8 
 
 Portrait of "Wilson Lowry. Drawn by Linnell. Engraved by Linnell 
 and Blake 332 
 
 WORKS DESIGNED BY BLAKE, BUT ENGRAVED BY OTHERS. 
 
 Burger's Leiwre. Translated by J. T. Stanley. 4to. 1796 . . . 138 
 Blair's Grave. 4to. 1808 200-207, 217-23 
 
 WRITINGS BY BLAKE. 
 [Of these all are engraved, not type-printed, and embellished with designs 
 
 as described in the Life, except those marked with an asterisk, which are 
 printed in the ordinary manner, and unillustrated.] 
 
 *Poetical Sketches. 8vo. 1783 23-26, also Part II. 
 
 Songs of Innocence. 8vo. 1789 68-75, also Part II. 
 
 Book of Thel. 4to. 1789 76-78, also Part II. 
 
 Marriage of Heaven and Hell. 4to. 1790 78-89 
 
 *The French Eevolution. 8vo. Book the First. 1791 .... 90 
 
 The Gates of Paradise. 12mo. 1793 101-104. 
 
 Visions of the Daughters of Albion. Folio. 1793 105-108 
 
262 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WORKS. 
 
 IN VOL. I, 
 PAGE 
 
 America : a Prophecy. Folio. 1793 . 109-113 
 
 Songs of Experience. 8vo. 1794 . . 119-126 
 
 Europe: a Prophecy. Folio. 1794 127-130 
 
 The Book of Urizen. 4to. 1794 130-132 
 
 The Song of Los. 4to. 1795 132-134 
 
 The Book of Ahania. 4to. 1795 135-136 
 
 Jerusalem. 4to. 1804 184-194 
 
 Milton. 4to. 1804 195-198 
 
 ^Descriptive Catalogue. 8vo. 1809 226-228 Part II. 
 
 The Laocobn. \ 
 
 The Ghost of Abel. >• Sibylline Leaves . 245 
 
 On Homer's Poetry. J 
 
 There is no Natural Eeligion. Eight (?) small Leaves, each containing 
 a thesis on this favourite dogma of Blake's, accompanied by a slight 
 coloured design. 
 
 In a List of Works by Blake, offered for sale by his widow, to Mr. 
 Ferguson (vol. I. p. 366), occurs the following item : — 
 
 A work called Outhoun. 12 Plates, 6 inches more or less. Price, £2 2s. Od. 
 
 I have never seen a copy of this, nor been able to find any one who has. 
 Even Mr. Linnell had never heard of it. But the above must be taken, I think, 
 as indisputable evidence that such a book does or did exist. An ingenious 
 friend suggested that ' Outhoun ; might be another title for the Visions of the 
 Daughters of Albion, in which one Oothoon plays a prominent part. But the 
 number of plates in the two not corresponding decisively negatives such a 
 supposition. 
 
 It should be mentioned, also, that there is in existence a complete MS. 
 Poem by Blake, called Tiriel, which somewhat resembles the 'Prophetic 
 Books ' in style, but is less obscure. 
 
PROSPECTUS, 
 
 263 
 
 [The following is a copy of a characteristic Prospectus issued by Blake, 
 in 1793. The original is in engraved writing printed in blue on a single 
 leaf about 11 X 7 J inches. Of course it has become excessively rare, 
 the specimen here described having been obtained only at the last moment, 
 through perseveringly kind efforts on the part of Mr. Frost.] 
 
 October 10, 1793. 
 
 To the Public. 
 
 The Labours of the Artist, the Poet, the Musician, have been pro- 
 verbially attended by poverty and obscurity ; this was never the fault of the 
 Public, but was owing to a neglect of means to propagate such works as 
 have wholly absorbed the Man of Genius. Even Milton and Shakespeare 
 could not publish their own works. 
 
 This difficulty has been obviated by the Author of the following- 
 productions now presented to the Public ; who has invented a method of 
 Printing both Letter-press and Engraving in a style more ornamental, 
 uniform, and grand, than any before discovered, while it produces works at 
 less than one fourth of the expense. 
 
 If a method of Printing which combines the Painter and the Poet is a 
 phenomenon worthy of public attention, provided that it exceeds in elegance 
 all former methods, the Author is sure of his reward. 
 
 Mr. Blake's powers of invention very early engaged the attention of 
 many persons of eminence and fortune ; by whose means he has been 
 regularly enabled to bring before the Public works (he is not afraid to say) 
 of equal magnitude and consequence with the productions of any age or 
 country : among which are two large highly finished engravings (and two 
 more are nearly ready) which will commence a Series of subjects from the 
 Bible, and another from the History of England. 
 
 The following are the Subjects of the several Works now published and 
 on Sale at Mr. Blake's, IsTo. .13, Hercules Buildings, Lambeth. 
 
 1. Job, a Historical Engraving. Size 1 ft. 7 J in. by 1 ft. 2 in. : price 12s. 
 
 2. Edward and Elinor, a Historical Engraving. Size 1 ft. 6| in. by 1 ft. 
 price 10s. Qd. 
 
 3. America, a Prophecy, in Illuminated Printing. Folio, with 18 designs, 
 price 10s. 6d, 
 
264 
 
 LISTS OF BLAKE'S WORKS. 
 
 4. Visions of the Daughters of Albion, in Illuminated Printing. Folio, 
 with 8 designs, price 7 s. 6d. 
 
 5. The Book of Thel, a Poem in Illuminated Printing. Quarto, with 
 6 designs, price 3s. 
 
 6. The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, in Illuminated Printing. Quarto, 
 with 14 designs, price 7s. 6d. 
 
 7. Songs of Innocence, in Illuminated Printing. Octavo, with 25 designs, 
 price 5s. 
 
 8. Songs of Experience, in Illuminated Printing. Octavo, with 25 designs, 
 price 5s. 
 
 9. The History of England, a small book of Engravings. Price 3s. 
 10. The Gates of Paradise, a small book of Engravings. Price 3s. 
 
 The Illuminated Books are Printed in Colours, and on the most beautiful 
 wove paper that could be procured. 
 
 ]STo Subscriptions for the numerous great works now in hand are asked, 
 for none are wanted ; but the Author will produce his works, and offer them 
 to sale at a fair price. 
 
ENGRAVED DESIGNS BY BLAKE. 
 
 THE BOOK OF JOB. 
 
 TWENTY-ONE PHOTO-LITHOGRAPHS FROM THE ORIGINALS. 
 
 SONGS OF INNOCENCE AND EXPEEIENCE. 
 
 SIXTEEN OF THE ORIGINAL PLATES. 
 
 . II. 
 
 T 
 
267 
 
 ENGRAVED DESIGNS BY BLAKE. 
 
 [The Plates here appended were not contemplated in the original scheme of this work, 
 or certain of the Job designs would not have been reproduced in fac- simile in the first 
 volume. By an afterthought, however, the aid of photo-lithography was called in to give 
 the whole Job series as a thorough and important example of Blake's style. These photo- 
 lithographs are, of course, line for line, and minutest touch for touch, the counterparts 
 of their originals. They are smaller, however ; and the effect of light and shade has a 
 certain want of the decision and clearness which is one of the characteristics of the copper 
 plates. But on the whole they may be safely put forward as giving a very sufficient 
 idea of these, quite complete, indeed, in many of the most essential respects ; and consi- 
 dering that the original publication is a rare and high-priced book, its reproduction here 
 is a very valuable addition to our table of contents. 
 
 Quite as valuable, though still in another way not quite perfect, are the original plates 
 of the Songs also given. These were recovered by Mr. Gilchrist, being the only remnant 
 of the series still in existence on copper ; the rest having, it is believed, been stolen 
 after Blake's death, and sold for old metal. They are, therefore, as absolutely the 
 originals as those appearing in the copies printed by Blake ; and the reason why they 
 must still be pronounced imperfect is that they were intended as a mere preparation for 
 colouring by hand, as has been explained in the Life ; while, being here necessarily given 
 without the colour, they cannot be said to embody Blake's intention in producing them. 
 Much which may here seem unaccountably rugged and incomplete is softened by the 
 sweet liquid rainbow tints of the coloured copies into a mysterious brilliancy which 
 could never have been obtained over a first printing of a neater or more exact kind ; 
 body colour as well as transparent colour being used in the finishing. However, there 
 will be no doubt among those who love Blake's works as to the advisability of including 
 them here even in the rough; and indeed, to any observer of poetic feeling, it is but the 
 first glance at them which can prove really disappointing. Abundant beauty remains, 
 even without the colour, in the wealth of lovely ever-varying lines, and plentiful over- 
 growth from the very heart of the painter, springing and clinging all round the beautiful 
 verses. No littleness here because the scale of work is a small one. Almost any one 
 of these pages might be painted, writing and all, on a space twenty feet high, and leave 
 nothing to be desired as grand decorative work. 
 
 On comparing these Plates with the fac-similes of designs belonging to the same class 
 of Blake's works which are contained in the first volume, it will be at once apparent that 
 the latter are generally extremely successful as reproductions of his style. His work of 
 other kinds, more dependent on engraving in lines, was far more difficult to deal with 
 by the process adopted ; but everywhere the aim has been towards the utmost fidelity 
 whether the fac-simile was on the exact scale of the original or not. 
 
268 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 In concluding the last of the brief prefatory notes to the various sections of this 
 second volume, the writer of them believes he may trust not only to have expressed his 
 own views on the matters to which they relate, but that these are also in harmony with 
 the intentions and fully-matured plans of his friend the author of the Life. He had 
 had many conversations with Mr. Gilchrist regarding the completion of this cherished 
 work ; and must have undertaken this slight supplementary task with a still heavier 
 heart, had he not been sure that he agreed with the author of the work in all points 
 concerning its subject, and that there was no danger of any opinion being expressed in 
 the few closing passages, which he would unwillingly have endorsed. It may be said 
 on this last page of the book, that at least neither love of Blake in its author, nor love 
 of its author in those on whom the'issuing of his work devolved, has been wanting to 
 make it a true memorial of both. 
 
 D. G. R.] 
 
WKatlsKafl we recieve Good 
 at the hand of God <fe shall we not also 
 recieve Evil 
 
 And when they Jifted u.p their eyes afar off & knew him. not 
 they lifted, tip their voice <5c wept.&tkev rent every Mart kiS 
 mantle &sprmkled dust upon their keads towards keaven 
 
 Ye have keard o\ \ht Patience otJot and Have seen the end of the Lord 
 
 ' — - ______ ~Wt2lake tnven & 
 
 Lendpn . Publuhal cls the Act directs M*rdl 8: )SZ5~ 6v V/dUamB 'lake Ml fountain 
 
Butke knowetktkeway that I take 
 /kenke katk tried me 1 .skall come {ortMike gold 
 
 Have pity upon mo Have (pity upon me ! Oj e friends 
 for the Wand of God katktouchf d me 
 
 ^Tkougk Re slay mejet will I trust l)\Kim 
 
 \; The JuSt UpngktManis laughed to scorn 
 
 Man. tkat is bora of aWoman is of few days &l fultof trouble 
 Ke cometkuf, like afW<*i- £15 Cat dow^kefjeetk also a? askatli 
 & cortimiethnot AnMosl tkoaopei, tkme «yes tt|»oa Suck a on* 
 &brmjest me into judgment witk tkce 
 
 London. r"bUxh**^rhsAct ct.**zt? JVorch.ti.-lii3i5.hy WUUcm Bloh^WJTo 
 
 Court Strand 
 
r _ weet ? dreamt iorm a shade \i 
 O'er my lovely infeurts heacl 
 Sweet '-reams of plcaussutt^tT' 
 "flabby client moony Learns 
 
 veecjt" sleep with^att down.. 
 Weave tW brcrvys an nxfant crown ' 
 
 Hoyjir oet^tt^Ttabbry- chile 
 
 eet ^mile^ in the m 
 Lover over my 'Wight 
 '.Sweet ^miW Mother^ 
 &A11 the livelong night Leguil 
 
 reet-m oansT3ovelike ^ig^S^ 
 QWe not skimher from^rv eyeg 
 jSwe et inoantf ./sweeter ^ftruTes * 
 '.All Ae clovelike moans bedtnleg 
 
 II creation slejjt'ancl #rrui 
 .Sleep sleep, jiafcb^IeejjT _ 
 V^Vhile o'er the evny me ther" weep 
 
 ; hate m thy foe e 
 oiju image I can traceTT 
 
 2^ iW'waWr W"an<l wept for 
 
 SBl, 
 
I e anotker^ wo e 
 And not "be in fiomwico 
 
 !And not Seek for -kin d relief* 
 
 CSeiI js'ee'a Jkllirttf tear 
 And 
 
 And not feel j^ST ^orrowsr #kare, 
 C&ri a father ^Tee nJ^ ckild . 
 eejj.nor be-with ^oitow 
 
 Can a mother JSJrt and keatv +jjt 
 An infant groan an irrf'aitt fear— . 
 No no never c an jt b e 
 Never never can it be . 
 And canltevvrno^sjnileg on ail 
 ri ear tke wren wrtk borrows Wail . 
 Hear the ;Small bWds^nefj!^ care \ 
 Hear tke wo<^ tlxat iniWrts bear -J 
 
 Atia not sJt beside the 
 Pouring futjr in tkerr breast _ 
 And not art tKe cradle near 
 Wee ping -tear on infants "tear.y. 
 
 And not sxt kotk ni^tt ^day. i) 
 "Wiping all our tear* away. 
 
 0!nx> never can ft l>e . . 
 
 Never never can it be . J 
 
 He doth give luS joy to al 
 He becomes,' at* urtant Small . 
 He tecomeS awaa cf woe* 
 He doth feel ^\e^ojrjro-v^ too 
 HunU not tkou canst ^i^K'a. s»^k ; ft 1 
 AM try maker is notjrp\ • f , 
 Think nfit.tkou caastweeji a. bear 
 AndjJjy tnaker is not .near - 
 
 Ojke^jVesr-te urfnlsjoy- 
 Ihat our ^net he tn^r Ue^trjj 
 11 'our/grief ig fled<Sr£one 
 
 & 1 
 
 id riG - 
 
 e doth sit 
 
 Mtrjgv-,; 
 _ ^one;> 
 and moan. 
 
 7. 
 
■J 
 
 I'.jjroMietic: ^ee. .j^^ , 
 Ifcat-tUe eaAtMrom.,sW]j 
 Grave the , .sentence deep 
 
 /}!udl anse and g^k 
 Tor -kef maker iiieekr; 
 And- live desert vvL/d, . 
 Become a. garden mild . 
 
 In t3ur£pu'tnem clime 
 V/her<; Hie ,suminer,s ppme. 
 Kifvtr fades' ajvay; 
 Lovely lyca. lay. 
 Seven. glimmer,? old. 
 T,nvi^Lyca.told , ■ 
 fi'ne, lad -waiid&d IonJ . 
 Hearing wild bir4^rf50ji^ 
 TtViFt" coinefb . 
 
 Jridernealkiius tree; 
 l)Q:fet!<< j r Jitoilvcr'weejT . __ 
 "WW e c cin Lyra *kep". - 
 LoStin depart wild .. 
 J*_your little child 
 How crtii I-vca^leepV 
 ^) If Iver motH^r wr^p 
 Tf' W keart c!ce^ alre* f 
 lJu'i\ let JLvca w axe ^ 
 
 J Jsy.c a A-'n al! not we e p . . 
 
 •*> Frowning fr<nviutv| tujpltfc 
 Q'eirmvS d''f*art Wi^ht . 
 Let"%y moon arifie , 
 Ydulel cJoSe my eye^. 
 Alrspni'iT^Talay,- 
 while US beasts cf prey, 
 Come it-om cavelnsr deep 
 yi'ewcl die maid asleep 
 
 The lankly ^O 11 '^ rt6 ,d ' > 
 And -tit ii vis-'/"*. -v! ew'd ' 
 nVv^i K^WooIti round ,.\^ 
 O'er {]■>'« i'.allowd^rowvd ; ► 
 
 5 
 
 10, 
 
11. 
 
n y Pretty K^^)jREE 
 
 v Slower was? otterd, to me. - 
 3aci% a. Mower as -May silver bore. 
 \^j3ut f&atd I've a, Fretty Jfojse-tree. . 
 | ^-njicl J au&ecC the, sSM&et? flcwer o'er - 
 
 "jfcett I 'wertb to tny Preffy Rose-tre?^T> 1 
 Jd tend her & day andjby ncgkt?. & 
 
 nel hkr^ thorns were mv\oi 
 
 n, teau 
 
 AH ISUJSL FLOWER- 
 
 Ah. S^un-Hower I v/ear^ of time, 
 Who coiucbest the -steps' of ike /Suit , 
 See&uhti after~-3iafc Sweet golcL^n. chme 
 Wltere the ttecvellecs' jotusuey is" done. , 
 
 ^jywise vrast tneir graces ana, aspire . 
 P Y/here my jSftuv-Bower wishes' to £>o . f . 
 
 ^ Rosre puts -forth a. -thorn. : 
 CDie AiunbU JZJwepSa, ihreatninfe horjp;t , 
 lYlu/e 'JisJjtUy white* sAalL 1% Love dellhht. 
 '"TVor a. tkcrji. naj'cc threat +g£mn, jun- Leauh/ 
 
13, 
 
15. 
 
'Hove to nare in asummer qiorn7 
 "When tkc Birds tfing on every tree ; m 
 mTRe distant iiuntgmanwirxls kis horn , 
 vVnd fcke jljgr-larkysir^s with, me . 
 O } what ^wect company ^-^n, ^ 
 
 Buttock) tojscliool in a .summer mom , 
 
 away , 
 
 Under a cruel eye ouworn . 
 •The little ones jspendtlie day. 
 • ^ anxi cUtftrcay. «v/"jTyi 
 
 _Mi!-men attmiesldroobiri^sit, 
 ^And spend mamr an anxious kour , 
 Ilor in my JbooR canltake deligrct j 
 ?&>r,sit m. learning bower . <^sx 
 iWomtkrd wdtri me dreary jghower. 
 
 [ow can ike turd 4vat is born fori ay, |; 
 sit in a cage and " ' 
 [ow can a ckiid when fears aruvry 
 lut droop Kis tender >viiuf r ^ 
 uad forget iusyoutkful jstonng. i 
 O.'JSdkei^n^olruer^'Lud^ are mp^ , 
 JW bloikomS blown away. m» , 
 LA'nd if tte tender blanla: are yStnpil 
 CH'tnnirjay intke spriu^r^day, 
 I J&y>Sorrow and careS c&moy. • 
 
 Sow ^lall -tke summer arise in joy / . 
 Or me Sutnnier fruits appear, (?_. 
 Or Kow sliall we father wlart^rjelk d<s 
 Or hWSfl t)\e meUowir^year. v \ . 
 "Wlutu tke blafts of winter afbear. \ ^\ 
 
m 
 
 83H