Perhaps by the man of the world, immersed in considerations of pecuniary interest, he, who pretends to be enamoured of the scenes of fancy, will be viewed as a cameleon, living on air. He will be envied rather for the cheapness, than the excellence of his food; rather because it can be obtained with ease, than because it affords real enjoyment. The pleasures of fancy, more refined than those of sense, are exalted in their nature, and boundless in their extent. Whatever has pleased the eye, or delighted the ear; whatever is grand or beautiful in nature or in art, appears with new charms in the garden of fancy. Sweet are the illusions of this delightful enchantress; who leads us at pleasure thro' the splendid apartments of royal grandeur, or the verdant fields of rural innocence; encircles our brows with the laurel of fame, or the angel-wrought garland of love. As the productions of her pencil pass in review before us, the emotions they excite are more vivid than if they were real, because refined from the grossness of sense. To possess a fancy vigorous and elastic, capable of soaring thro' the regions of thought, of enjoying beauty that "eye hath not seen," and harmony that "ear hath not heard," is to command happiness; it is to possess a heaven on earth. He who has not been irradiated by her divine effulgence, has not enjoyed existence; like the statue of Prometheus, he has not inhaled the vital air.

The influence of fancy cherishes and expands the germs of religion and patriotism. Hence the holy awe and sacred pleasure, experienced in the sanctuary of God. Reason ascribes to the Deity existence boundless as space, he

"Lives thro' all life; extends thro' all extent;
Spreads undivided; operates unspent."

Fancy by representing the temple, dedicated to his service, as his peculiar residence, concentrates the thoughts, exalts the affections, and gives fervour to devotion.*

In fancy originates that warlike enthusiasm, which incites to actions great and illustrious. The soldier, wandering over the plains on which his ancestors fought with success, or died with honour, feels that he walks on consecrated ground; the air he breathes is etherial, the spirits of his Hardly a correct account of Christian devotion.

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countrymen hover around him; "sacred terror and severe delight creep thro' his mortal frame;" his nerves are steeled with valour; his exertions bear the stamp of immortality. Yet in the cool and dispassionate opinion of reason, the straits of Thermopyla acquired no new excellence from the fall of Leonidas, and the plains of Marathon are not more worthy of praise because strewed with the relics of heroes. Their fertility has not increased; their surface does not display more variegated elegance.

Not the least beautiful of the offspring of fancy are fable and romance. These are employed either in description of characters and events that never existed, or in erecting a superstructure of fiction on the basis of truth. Altho' their principal design be to please, they are not entirely useless. When they describe scenes that can never be realized; when they attribute to man degrees of excellence that angels only can attain; feats of strength that giants only can achieve; they overleap the bounds of human exertion, and deserve contempt and ridicule. When, however, the actions they relate are such as human sagacity can conceive, and human power accomplish, they have a happy influence on life. The heroes and heroines of romance have furnished models for imitation at once safe and perfect. As the sun-flower, by constantly viewing the splendid orb of day, is assimilated to its parent, so man by contemplating fictitious excellence is insensibly meliorated. Altho' some may question their usefulness, few will deny their power of creating pleasure. Few have not admired the harmless ingenuity of ancient fable, and ludicrous descriptions of modern romance.

It has been observed, that the contrast between the fantastic visions of enthusiasm, and the gloomy realities of life is not productive of pleasure, and that he, "who lives to fancy, never can be rich." What, tho' the enthusiast may have imagined roses to be divested of thorns, and deserts to be covered with flowers; what, tho' pleased with the dreams of fancy, he may have "clasped the wind, and doated upon nothing,' disappointment here constitutes pleasure. Still will he rejoice that he can lessen deformity and heighten elegance; still will he rejoice that he can make barrenness fertile, and clothe the Alps with verdure.

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Representations of fancy are not always pleasant. They correspond and harmonize with individual character. Is a man virtuous, benevolent, and patriotic; does he revere the dictates of his God, does he consult the welfare of his fellowcreatures? fancy will pourtray to him scenes of peace and happiness; she will raise images of joy "ever varying and ever new," and he will "never be less alone than when alone." But has he violated the sacred laws of friendship; or derided the holy ordinances of religion? Has he filled the eye of innocence with tears; or torn the laurel from the soldier's brow? fancy will torture him, tho' on the pinnacle of power, he will behold images of horror and dismay, which conscience will acknowledge as just, and sophistry cannot evade.

Some men of genius have been accused of forsaking the useful, to attain the brilliant; of departing from the road of science, to gather flowers of fancy. It is common to mark the errors of genius. Most men may doze away their lives in apathy and indolence without notice or inquiry. But does Argus close one of his hundred eyes it excites speculation and wonder. We are eager to inquire why perfection has not been attained, where it was never intended; we are apt to attribute the defects of nature to habit or education. A union of qualities entirely dissimilar, and each in its greatest perfection, is much to be desired but can never be accomplished; it would indeed be excellent, but it would not be human. To determine the precise degree in which each of the mental powers should exist, to constitute genius, is the province of the philosopher, and cannot be expected from the superficial inquirer. Their mutual dependence, however, is obvious. It is easy to perceive that fancy, boundless and uncontrouled, like excess of animal heat, produces destruction. It is easy to distinguish the flights of genius from the reveries of lunacy. The combinations of fancy, unsanctioned by judgment, like chaos, teem with confusion and deformity; and if suffered to influence the conduct, are fatal to peace and happiness. Of this class are the vagaries of superstition; superstition, ever employed in arraying nature in shades of darkness, and of horror. Such are the systems of human perfectability, which suppose in those, who believe them, perfection

only in ignorance; absence of every principle of religion, virtue, and experience. Hence too the Utopian schemes of liberty and equality; liberty without law, and equality without justice. To expect in works like these, any thing not absolutely absurd; any thing tinged with reason, is to search for roses among the Glaciers of Switzerland. These heresies against common sense, that would reduce man from civilization to barbarism, have not wanted friends to circulate them ; they have produced misery, bloodshed and devastation, and their authors are destined to prove among other painful experiments,

"Facilis descensus Averni."

Such is the influence of fancy on life; but she appears with greater lustre in the circle of the fine arts. In the former, she is Venus, enveloped in clouds, her charms are not fully displayed, her influence is scarcely perceived. In the latter, she is Cypria's queen, full of elegance and love, dispensing life, and health, and happiness. Those who would exclude her from the common affairs of life, confess that, without her general aid, the works of art were destitute of fire. Fancy is the principle that decorates and enlivens them, and as art is more noble, the operation of fancy is more extensive. Her most captivating forms are visible in the works of the poet. Poetry is indeed and ever has been first in the affections of mankind. Preserved in the poet's verse, more potent than the spices of Arabia, the charms of beauty glow thro' ages with undiminished lustre, and captivate the hearts of posterity. Hence Mars and Venus have ever kneeled at the shrine of Minerva, who gives her Myrtle to the one, and his laurel to the other. To roam the fields of fiction, and cull flowers to decorate beauty and consecrate valour, is the office of the poet. He looks thro' the innumerable relations of things, and the various forms of being, selects the beauties visible in each, and combines them in one delightful picture. He illustrates truth by metaphors apt, lucid, and original; and arrays it in the garb of allegory. Where'er he rolls his daring eye,”

"Ten thousand shapes,

"Like spectres, trooping to the wizard's call,
"Flit swift before him. From the womb of earth,
"From ocean's bed they come, th' eternal heavens

"Disclose their splendours, and the dark abyss
"Pours out her births unknown."

Prior to the exercise of fancy, there must be taste to select beauties, and abstraction to separate them. As the latter approach nearer to perfection, the combinations of the former will be more various and delightful. Hence the poet, who lives in daily contemplation of rural scenes, has more vivid conceptions, and allusions more original, than he, who enjoys nature by description only.

"Happy the man, who strings his tuneful lyre

"Where woods, and brooks, and breathing fields inspire."

The cabinet of fancy is not solely devoted to the poet's use. From her splendid wardrobe the orator often clothes his arguments, as Jupiter arrayed himself in the plumage of the swan, to allure and captivate.

Wherever fancy appears, she commands esteem, as the mistress of the passions, the parent of knowledge, and the favourite of virtue. She renders man more susceptible of bliss; and dissipates the clouds of care, raises us above ourselves, to what we most desire; and tells us that we are, what most we wish to be. If her influence be delusive, yet is it pleasing even to ecstasy. If her irradiations be momentary, and the intervals of life consequently assume a deeper and more pallid hue; who would not endure the gloom of the one, that he might bask in the splendour of the other? Who would not linger on the banks of Acheron, that he might enjoy the delights of Elysium?