CRITICAL THEORY
University of Manchester
AND CRITICISMS
BY
Literature in Cornell University
D. C. HEATH & CO., PUBLISHERS
All Rights Reserved
To
JAMES MORGAN HART
Teacher and Friend
The present volume is, I believe, the first entirely devoted to Gray's critical prose. Editions of his poetry are numerous; and it has been generally assumed that he was chiefly a poet. The slender collection of poems, however, was not the only product, possibly not the chief product, of Gray's intellectual life. It is idle, of course, to discuss the comparative worth of creative and critical effort; it is worth while, however, in this age, to emphasize the necessity of sound criticism and to insist on the high value of Gray's contribution, slight as it was in quantity, to the critical thought of his time.
I have endeavored to present an accurate text; but as the volume is intended for general as well as scholarly use, I have modernized the spelling and punctuation, indicating in the notes Gray's few peculiar spellings, when the peculiarity seemed worthy of attention. Little is gained by retaining, in a text like this, the outworn spellings of a by-gone age; while much may be said in favor of uniformity, even though that involves the use of some forms that we do not like. All the footnotes are Gray's own. My notes are gathered at the end of the text.
It remains to express my obligations to Professor Herford for his courtesies in connection with the preparation of the book. To Professor Martin W. Sampson I am indebted for his kindness in reading the introduction in manuscript. My debt to my predecessors, especially Professor Duncan C. Tovey, for the substance of many of the notes, will be obvious and is gratefully acknowledged.
C. S. N.
Thomas Gray,
one of the most eminent men of letters of his time, was born in Cornhill,
London, on December 26, 1716, the son of Philip and Dorothy
Antrobus Gray. He was the fifth of twelve children; all the others died in
infancy. His father, a well-to-do merchant, was extremely eccentric, not to
say brutal, and was probably insane. He refused to educate the lad, and the
expense of his education was borne by his mother, who with her sister Mary
"kept a kind of India warehouse." About 1727 Thomas Gray was sent to Eton
College, where his uncle Robert Antrobus was assistant to Dr. George, the
principal. At Eton Gray formed lasting friendships with
Horace
Walpole, son of the Prime Minister;
Richard West,
son of the Lord Chancellor of Ireland;
and Thomas
Ashton, nicknamed "Plato." The four formed what they called "the
Quadruple Alliance,"
After seven years of Eton, Gray was ready for the university. Robert
Antrobus was a fellow of Peterhouse, Cambridge, and his younger brother
Thomas was a fellow of King's College. It was natural, therefore, that their
nephew should proceed to Cambridge; thither
Gray left Cambridge in September, 1738,
and after staying for a time at his father's house, accepted Horace Walpole's
invitation
The year 1742 is memorable in Gray's
life for his prolific composition of
English verse. He began with a tragedy,
The next six years of Gray's life, however, were to be devoted not to
composition but to study. After his father's death, supposing his means to
be ample, Gray had begun to read law in London; but the condition of the
family finances after the death of his uncle Jonathan Rogers (in October,
1742) made it impossible to go on with
the study of law. So he returned in the winter of 1742 to Peterhouse, and
taking his degree of LL.B. in 1744,
The death of his aunt Mary Antrobus, on November 5, 1749, seems to have induced Gray to take
up his
While still in manuscript the
On March 15, 1753, Gray's mother died at Stoke, at the age of sixty-seven. In the inscription which he placed on her tomb, Gray speaks of her as "the careful tender mother of many children, one of whom alone had the misfortune to survive her." This tribute, beautiful in itself, well indicates the depth of Gray's devotion to his mother; and read in the light of other remarks of his, it may be regarded as more than a merely conventional expression of his deep-seated despondency.
At the death of his mother, Gray came into possession of the remainder of the small fortune left by his father, part of which had already fallen to him; and his income now sufficed to meet the needs of his simple habits of life. Though he was not rich, the poet never had to work for his living, and even scorned to receive pay for his writing.
To the following year, 1754, belongs
the incomplete
An important event of 1756
in Gray's quiet life was his removal to Pembroke College, to which he was
admitted as a resident on March 6. The cause of his leaving Peterhouse was
apparently some rudeness on the part of the younger inmates of the college;
there is no good authority, however, for the story that he was induced to
descend his rope-ladder into a tub of water.
The publication of the two Pindaric odes by Dodsley in the summer of 1757 gave Gray a wide reputation as the greatest living poet of England. On the death of Colley Cibber (December 12, 1757), he was offered the laureateship by the Duke of Devonshire, then Lord Chamberlain, but declined the honor. "The office itself," he wote to Mason, "has always humbled the professor hitherto (even in an age when kings were somebody), if he were a poor writer by making him more conspicuous, and if he were a good one by setting him at war with the little fry of his own profession."
In the early part of 1758 Gray made
an antiquarian and architectural tour in the Fen country, visiting Ely,
Peterborough, Croyland Abbey, Thorney, Fotheringay, etc. After this he staid
for a time with Lord and Lady Cobham, and spent the month of July with
Walpole at
Strawberry
Hill. Toward the end of the year his aunt, Mrs. Rogers, died, and after
settling her estate he closed the house at Stoke Pogis and went to
In June, 1760, he writes to
Wharton
that he is gone mad over Macpherson's
translations from the Erse. In the celebrated Ossianic controversy we find
Gray strongly inclined to believe in the genuineness of the fragments, but
frankly admitting the difficulties that opposed this belief. He corresponded
on the subject with Hume and Adam Smith. He began to take interest not only
in Celtic (at least Gaelic and Welsh) but also in Norse literature; and all
of his own later poetry reflects the romantic impulse to which he now
readily yielded. Evans's
Returning to Cambridge in November, 1761, Gray made his home at Pembroke
during the remainder of his uneventful life. He took a deep interest in
Norton Nicholls, then a student of Trinity Hall, later rector of Lound and
Bradwell, who became a warm friend and
Of great significance were Gray's visits to the Lakes. His
In July, 1768, the chair of Modern
History and Modern Languages at Cambridge, for which Gray had been an
unsuccessful applicant in 1762, was
offered to him by the Duke of Grafton and was accepted. Following the custom
of his predecessors, he delivered no lectures;
The chief thing yet to be chronicled of Gray's last years is his
friendship for Charles
Victor de Bonstetten, a young Swiss, son of the Treasurer of Berne, who
was sent to Gray by Nicholls from Bath in November,
1769. For nearly four months Bonstetten
sat daily at the feet of Gray, reading the English classics and talking of
his life and enthusiasms. When Bonstetten left England in March,
1770, he had secured Gray's promise to
visit him in Switzerland the next summer. But Gray's health proved unequal
to the effort. His strength and courage gradually declined until in May,
1771, he was attacked by gout of the
stomach. He died on July 30, 1771, profoundly mourned by a small circle of
friends who, in spite of his reserve and his isolation, had learned to love
his noble and attractive nature.
In
"Perhaps he was the most learned man in Europe. He was equally acquainted
with the elegant and profound parts of science, and not superficially but
thoroughly. He knew every branch of history, both natural and civil; had
read all the original historians of England, France, and Italy; and was a
great antiquarian. Criticism, metaphysicks, morals, politicks made a
principal part of his plan of study; voyages and travels of all sorts were
his favourite amusement; and he had a fine taste in painting, prints,
architecture, and gardening. With such a fund of knowledge, his conversation
must have been equally instructing and entertaining; but he was also a good
man, a well-bred man, a man of virtue and humanity. There is no character
without some speck, some imperfection; and I think the greatest defect in
his was an affectation in delicacy, or rather effeminacy, and a visible
fastidiousness, or contempt and disdain of his inferiors in science. He also
had in some degree that weakness which disgusted Voltaire so much in Mr.
Congreve: Though he seemed to value others, chiefly according to the
progress they had made in knowledge; yet he could not bear to be considered
himself merely as a man of letters, and though without birth or fortune, or
station, his desire was to be looked upon as a private independent gentleman,
who read for his amusement. Perhaps it may be said, what signifies so much
knowledge, when it produced so little? Is it worth taking so much pains to
leave no memorial but a few poems? But let it be considered that Mr. Gray
was to others, at least innocently
A good deal has been written on the subject of Gray's sterility. His
poetry, interspersed with many notes, in Mr. Gosse's edition fills little
more than two hundred small octavo pages; his letters, about eight hundred
pages; and his other prose, a little over five hundred pages. For a life of
fifty-five years almost exclusively devoted to scholarly and literary
pursuits, this is certainly not a large product. Several explanations of its
smallness have been offered. Matthew Arnold, writing especially of Gray's
poetical output, and echoing the Rev. James
Brown, Master of Pembroke, says,
"he never spoke out"; he "fell upon an age of prose." "As regards literary
production, the task of the eighteenth century in England was not the poetic
interpretation of the world, its task was to create a plain, clear,
straightforward, efficient prose. Poetry obeyed the bent of mind requisite
for the due fulfilment of this task of the century. It was intellectual,
argumentative, ingenious; not seeing things in their truth and beauty, not
interpretative. Gray, with the qualities of mind and soul of a genuine
Yet from one point of view there is doubtless truth in Arnold's highly
elaborated dogma. Gray's companions and friends were not of the kind adapted
to stimulate his activity in either verse or prose.
West,
the one stimulating comrade of his youth, died in
1742, when Gray was twenty-six.
Walpole,
always a dilettante, was scarcely an inspired writer, except of letters,
and besides, he and Gray gradually drifted apart. Of the 186 letters
(1759-1771) printed by Mr. Gosse in his third
Professor Phelps has sought for other causes of Gray's meagreness of output: his scholarly and critical temperament, his lack of health, his abhorrence of publicity and popularity. Phelps's argument is answered by Professor Parrott, who, reasoning from analogy, doubts the adequacy of even this explanation, and who believes rather that Gray lacked the born poet's creative impulse as well as the capacity for profound reflection, for strong, lively, and passionate feeling, and for broad and deep sympathy. Professor Parrott argues forcibly and plausibly, and has well stated some points of the case. I am inclined to think, however, that he has not given us a wholly adequate explanation of the matter.
Professor Phelps would seem to be warranted in saying that Gray's
scholarly temperament had much to do with his writing so little. The
scholar's instinct in him was strong. He chose to continue living at
Cambridge
Another reason for his producing so little was his fastidious taste. He
polished and repolished his verses. He rigorously excised lines that many
another poet would have been proud to retain. "He has left nothing finished,"
wrote Walpole
Doubtless his reticence and shyness had something to do with his writing
so little, though it is easy to make too much of this circumstance.
That Gray's health was for long periods (except in his later years) so
bad as to prevent or discourage authorship, we find in his letters very
little evidence. He speaks frequently of low spirits, or melancholy; but
there are also occasional remarks
A stronger reason than ill health has not been too often dwelt on: namely,
his inertia, or indolence. Not being obliged to write, he could not bring
himself to do what required an effort. The consciousness of this defect
Finally, a lack of ambition doubtless combined with other circumstances
to render Gray indifferent to fame. After all, Phoebus' reply to the shepherd
friend of Lycidas was not exactly convincing. As he mused in the quiet
churchyard, Gray thought how
and then, as in the Mason MS., thus advised himself:
Gray's sense of humor prevented him from attaching too much importance to
personal memorials. He was a spectator of life; he did not care to be a too
active participant. He was content that the victors should have the spoils.
The early years of the eighteenth century contributed little that was new
or important to the science of literary criticism. In this field, at least,
the first half of the century was in general an era of orthodoxy. In his
interesting thesis
The Neo-Classic creed, which had been gradually evolved in the course of
the previous century,
But even before the eighteenth century began, the note of a revolt can be
clearly heard. To this revolt Professor Saintsbury has given the suggestive
name of "The Nemesis of Correctness." There is no apparent cessation of homage
at the shrine of antiquity; but in the writings of Steele and Addison this
worship of Aristotle and Quintilian is unconsciously tempered by good taste
and a desire for freer and more general discussion of literary art.
Non-classical works, such as the Bible and the early ballads, begin to be
discussed and are discovered to have elements of beauty. Addison
At the time when Thomas Gray began to read poetry and criticism, the points
of dispute between the two schools had become clearly formulated.
In estimating Gray as a critic it must be borne in mind that he made no
pretense to critical acumen. "You know I do not love, much less pique myself,
on criticism," he writes to Mason, in January, 1758, "and think even a bad
verse as good a thing or better than the best observation that ever was made
upon it." His own critical utterances were all published posthumously, and
much of the text in the present volume was doubtless written without thought
of publication. If
Professor Phelps, in his
Gray is not one of those who have left a large body of criticism. He set
down no elaborate theory of poetry or prose; he did not attempt to bring
Aristotle or Horace "up to date." What he did was, in his letters, to express
himself, often casually, and rarely at any length, about writers chiefly
contemporary; and in his other pieces, to estimate men and movements —
in literature, painting, architecture, theology, and so on — with the
illuminating common sense of a trained and unbiased scholar. Probably his
general cautiousness would have sufficed to prevent him from making many
generalizations about our early literature; but it must also be remembered
that much of this literature was not easily accessible, indeed, had not yet
been printed, and that to obtain any wide acquaintance with it from
manuscripts would at that time have been impossible. Now it happens that
Gray was especially interested in this literature — in Lydgate, Gawin
Douglas, Chaucer — and gave much time to these authors; with his own
hand he copied
We must not, then, look upon Gray as a protagonist in the conflicts of criticism. Yet his chance remarks have a permanent value as coming from an ardent scholar and a sympathetic reader. His whole attitude toward letters served to emphasize the importance to criticism of a sound basis in scholarship and of openness of mind and heart. In general, Arnold's definition of criticism would have suited him; would that he had had more of Arnold's militant ardor in making known what he considered the best that had been thought and written!
Gray holds a high place among the critics of his time partly because of
his scholarship. Coming midway between Bentley and Porson (he was twenty-five
when Bentley died and forty-three when Porson was born), he bridges the gap
between these great lights of Trinity College; and what is more important,
his deep interest in Greek studies may be said to herald the dawn of the
modern study of Greek literature; with language studies for their own sake
Gray was not especially concerned. The study of Greek was
Let us now see what were the qualities of Gray which fitted or unfitted
him for the tasks of criticism. We have long heard that the fundamental
quality of the true critic is that he is wholly disinterested, has no ax to
grind. Surely this was true of Gray. We never find him wedded to a theory;
he is never blinded by the brilliance of a particular meteor or comet; he
scans the heavens steadily; and the differing magnitudes of the stars are
evident to him. He knows all the stars of the first magnitude — Homer,
Dante, Chaucer, Shakespeare, Milton — though Homer and Milton, he
thinks, have some high-sounding words that mean little. Lydgate is ranked
far below his master Chaucer, but is not denied some important merits. If
Gray gave the reins to his admiration of any one, it was Dryden, whose
sanity and clearness of judgment appealed to Gray's kindred temperament; yet
he writes to Mason (December 19, 1757) that Dryden's character disgraced the
laureateship. Gray's dislike of Johnson is well known;
Next in the category of Gray's critical virtues may be mentioned his
broad and sound scholarship. If not the most learned man of his day, he was
easily in the front rank of eighteenth century savants. His reading included
virtually the whole range of Greek and Roman authors and all that was best
in French, Italian, and English literature. Of German belles-lettres, like
other Englishmen of his day, he knew little or nothing; but he knew something
of Scaliger,
Moreover, it may be said that Gray possessed a well developed sense of
humor. A person thus gifted is likely to see life in its true proportions.
Gray's own humor is usually, though not always, of the genial, kindly sort
which leaves no sting. Cambridge was for him at twenty, and we may suppose
continued to be, the place, formerly known by the name of Babylon, of which
"the prophet spoke when he said, 'The wild beasts of the desert shall dwell
there and their houses shall be full of doleful creatures,' " etc.;
Finally, among the qualities that made Gray a critic was his sympathy. He
saw another man's point of view and gave due weight to the inherited
tendencies and prejudices which determined it. This is evident not so much
from specific utterances as from the general tone of his writing and
conversation. It was sympathy which led him to devote so much attention to
the productions of Mason. It was this same quality which, in spite of his
reserve of manner, brought him the devoted friendship of his little circle
of intimates — Wharton, Chute, Stonehewer, Brown, and others.
As we have seen, for several years after taking his degree in civil law,
Gray read deeply and systematically in Greek literature. The notes which he
made on Aristophanes and Plato were printed by Mathias in 1814 from
manuscripts formerly in the possession of Richard Stonehewer, and by Gosse
in 1884 (Gray's
It is no disparagement of these notes to say that they contain little or no criticism of the two Greek authors. Criticism was not Gray's purpose. What he sought to do was to furnish such analyses of plots and stories, and such explanatory notes and comments, as would enable a student to read the original text with understanding. In the state of Greek scholarship in Gray's time, such work was vastly more useful than criticism would have been; for criticism read before the student has some independent knowledge of the original is, for the purpose of sound scholarship, of little worth.
As a specimen of Gray's remarks on Plato I have reprinted the section
dealing with the
In his letter to Wharton on the same date, Gray remarks: "The best Editions of ancient authors should be the first things, I reckon, in a library." With propriety, then, this short extract from Gray's commentaries on the ancients may head the list of selections in this volume.
The
Such, in substance, is Bolingbroke's thought. Gray, in reply, frankly
admits that only
This piece was first published by Mathias in 1814, under the too general
title of
In his biography (p. 116), Mr. Gosse has spoken of Gray as "the first
modern student of the history of architecture." As such, we must not expect
too much from him. Some of his views are no longer held. His theory that the
intersection of semicircular arches led to the building of pointed arches was
long accepted; but it is now known that the pointed arch was in use in the
East in the early Christian centuries; it was used in Egypt as early as 861;
it may have been borrowed then through Sicily (which the Normans occupied
from 1060 to 1194), or possibly have been reinvented independently. It begins
to appear in England as early as the time of Henry II.
With Gray's list of characteristics of the Norman style the general reader
may conveniently compare the lists given by T. Roger Smith in his
The remarks on metre and rhyme, to which Gray gave this general title, as
well as the remarks on the poetry of Lydgate which follow, were probably among
the fruits of Gray's sojourn at the British Museum in 1759-1761. Mr. Gosse
believes they were written in the winter of 1760 and the spring of 1761, but
there is apparently no more warrant for this year than for the preceding year,
1759-60. They were first printed by Mathias in 1814; the originals are
preserved among the manuscripts of Pembroke College, Cambridge.
"A few years ago, Mr. Mason, with that liberality which ever accompanies
true genius, gave me an authentic copy of Mr. Pope's scheme of a
Warton goes on to say that he found he could not use their plan,
In no other respect are Gray's views so much out of date as in respect to
metre. He is totally wrong in his understanding of "riding rhyme," and
Puttenham, whom he thinks mistaken, was probably right. Likewise, although
his remark about "doggerel verse" is
On the other hand, in some matters Gray showed remarkable insight. His view that the apparent inequalities of Chaucer's metre were due to the mistakes of scribes is borne out by our modern study of manuscripts. His remarks against Puttenham in regard to caesural freedom are sensible and are based on the right sort of reasoning. Finally, his general theory of the origin of rhyme among the common people, as far as it goes, may still pass as a fair statement of present-day views on the subject.
Two things at once strike the reader of Gray's remarks on Lydgate: first,
that he ranks Lydgate rather high, placing him in the class just below
Chaucer, and above Gower and Hoccleve; and second, that his opinions of
Lydgate as here expressed are based wholly on
In
Finally, ten Brink (
The brief character sketch of the poet Daniel, like the observations on
metre and on Lydgate, was intended to form a part of the projected
Gray was a fairly industrious though by no means a voluminous
letter-writer. Of his letters some 375 have been published, which were
written between 1736 and 1771. His chief correspondents were his mother
(until her death in 1753 ), West (1736-42), Walpole (1736-68), Thomas
Wharton (1740-71), John Chute (1741-62), Mason (1753-70), James Brown
This is not the place for a characterization of Gray's letters as a collection. All the qualities of the best letters are exhibited — ease, familiar playfulness, sympathy with the point of view of the correspondent, the charm of good breeding, perfect truthfulness, — and to do justice to them would require more space than can here be given. The reader may be referred to Mr. Tovey's excellent introductions.
In this volume I have included from the letters a number of extracts
pertaining mainly to literary criticism. Many of them, perhaps, are not to be
taken too seriously, being merely off-hand first impressions. One of the most
important letters, as Professor Saintsbury has pointed out, is the one
We may, then, recapitulate thus the points emphasized in this introduction:
Gray lived the life of a recluse and a scholar, caring little for society and
less for domestic life; absorbed in his books; deeply interested in antiquity,
yet not indifferent to the spectacle of contemporary activity; viewing this
spectacle, however, without a desire to engage actively in its struggles;
caring little for fame and much for virtue. The smallness of his literary
product was due not to the frigid atmosphere of the time which some have
thought prevented him from "speaking out," but to other causes, — lack
of stimulus from his friends, the growing predominance of the scholarly
temperament and inclination, his highly
All of Gray's prose, we have seen, was published posthumously. The letters
first appeared in the "Memoirs of His Life and Writings" prefixed by Mason to
his edition of Gray's
and
Criticisms
Η, ΠΕΡΙ ΨϒΧΗΣ
(Plat. Op. Serrani. Vol. 1, p. 57.)
This famous dialogue was supposed by
The historical part of it is admirable, and, though written and disposed
with all the art and management of the best tragick writer, (for the slightest
circumstance in it wants not its force and meaning) it exhibits nothing to the
eye but
The reasoning part is far inferior, sometimes weak, sometimes false, too obscure, too abstracted, to convince us of any thing; yet with a mixture of good sense and with many fine observations. The fabulous account of a future state is too particular and too fantastick an invention for Socrates to dwell upon at such a time, and has less decorum and propriety in it than the other parts of the dialogue.
Socrates attempts in this dialogue to prove, that true philosophy is but a
continual preparation for death; its daily study and practice being to wean
and separate the body from the soul, whose pursuit of truth is perpetually
stopped and impeded by the numerous avocations, the little pleasures, pains,
and necessities of its companion.
I will allow
It is therefore no impiety, but the direct contrary, to say that human
justice and the other virtues, which are indeed only various applications of
human benevolence, bear some resemblance to the moral attributes of the
supreme Being. It is only by means of that resemblance, we conceive them in
him, or their effects in his works. It is by the same means only, that we
comprehend those physical attributes which his Lordship allows to be
demonstrable. How can we form any notion of his unity, but from that unity of
which we ourselves are conscious? How of his existence, but from our own
consciousness of existing? How of his power, but of that power which we
experience in ourselves?
In vain, then, does my Lord attempt to ridicule the warm but melancholy
imagination of
The
The particulars which distinguish
The same arching is frequently used to cover the long vacancy of a dead
wall, and forms an arcade adhering to it with tall clumsy
On the outside, as they have no buttresses, which were the invention of later ages, the walls are commonly adorned either with half-columns or with flat stripes of stone-work, resembling a plain pilaster, at regular distances.
Such are the most obvious distinctions of this early style of building. An
accurate inspection of those remains, which have their dates well ascertained,
might possibly discover many other particulars, and also shew us the gradual
advances of the art within the period which I have assigned; for it is not to
be imagined that all the forms which I have described made their appearance
at one and the same time, or that the buildings,
Upon the whole, these huge structures claim not only the veneration due to
their great antiquity, but (though far
Though I would not with
Yet
And so says Lydgate of himself:
And,
In both which verses there is a syllable too much, on which
Crescimbeni observes, "Costumavano gli antichi rimatori, ogni volta
che in fin d' una voce s' incontrava la vocale
"Tu sei quel arma
where
in reading they probably sunk the last syllable of
Puttenham, in his
Alexandrines,
And after toilsome days | a soft repose at night.
He both her warlike Lords | outshined in Helen's
eyes.
And this uniformity in the cesura is just the reason why
we no longer use them but just to finish a lyric stanza: they are also
sometimes interspersed arbitrarily among verses of ten syllables. This is an
odd custom, but it is confirmed by the sanction which Dryden and Pope have
given to it, for they soon tire the ear with this sameness of sound; and the
French seem to have judged ill in making them their heroic
Verses of
"True wisdom join'd | with simpleness, The night | discharged of all care, On the 2nd. Where wine the wit | may not oppresse The faithful wife | without debate, Such slepes | as may beguile the night, Content thyself | with thine estate, Ne wish for death, | ne feare his might."
From these hye hilles | as when a spring doth falle, It trilleth down | with still and subtle course, Of this and that | it gathers aye, and shall Till it have just | downe flowed to stream and force: So fareth Love, | when he hath ta'en a course; Rage is his raine; | resistance 'vaileth none; The first eschue | is remedy alone. Wyatt.
Dante judges it the best adapted of any metre to noble subjects. "Quorum omnium Endecasyllabum videtur esse superbius, tam temporis occupatione quam capacitate sententiae, constructionis, et vocabulorum, &c. — et omnes hoc Doctores perpendisse videntur, Cantiones illustres principiantes ab illo." (De Vulgari Eloquentiâ, l. ii, c. 5.)"Fazes auzir vostras castas preguieras Tant doussament, qu'a pietat sia moguda De s' inclinar a ma justa demanda," &c. Crescimbeni, Istor. della Volg. Poesia, l. i, p. 6.
In active games | of nimbleness and strength Where we did strain, | trained with swarms of youth, Our tender limbs, | which yet shot up in length: The secret groves, | which oft we made resound Of plesaunt plaint, | and of our Lady's praise, Recording oft, | what grace each one had found, What hope of speed, | what dread of long delays; The wild forèst, | the clothed holts with green, With reines availed, | and swift-ybreathed horse, With cry of hound, | and merry blasts between, Where we did chase | the fearful hart of force, &c.
But our poets have long since got loose from these fetters.
These reflections may serve to shew us, that Puttenham, though he lived
within about one hundred and fifty years of Chaucer's time, must have been
mistaken with regard to what the old writers called their
I conclude, that he was misled by the change which words had undergone in
their accents since the days of Chaucer, and by the seeming defects of measure
which frequently occur in the printed copies. I cannot pretend to say what it
was they called
But nothing can be more regular than this sort of stanza, the pause always
falling just in the middle of those verses which are of eight syllables, and
at the end of those of six. I imagine
e 8th's reign.
Hence too we see that Puttenham is mistaken in the sense of
These verses
are in the Tournoyement d'Antichrist, by Huon de Mari, a monk of St.
Germain. (Fauchet, l. i. ch. 8.)
And Huon de Villeneuve, a writer
of the same age, addresses himself to the company whom he is going
to entertain in these words:
*
This English Romance is in free octosyllabic rhyme, written,
[p. 35] as Mr. Thomas Warton observes (in his Observations on the
Fairy Queen, Lond. 1754, 8vo) in that short measure which was
frequently sung to the harp in Queen Elizabeth's days, a custom which
descended from the ancient bards (p. 36). Bevis is supposed to have
been Earl of Southampton about the time of the Norman Invasion; his
residence was at Duncton in Wiltshire; his sword, called
But the
Būrnt āftĕr thĕm tŏ thĕ bōttŏmlĕss pīt,where there is a Spondee in the first place, a Pyrrhic in the third, and a Trochee in the fourth, and that line,
Wĭth ĭmpĕtŭoūs recoil and jarring sound,with an Anapaest in the first place, &c.
Spenser has also given an instance
I make no mention of the Hexameter, Sapphic, and other measures which Sir
Philip Sidney and his friends
The Measures which I find principally in use among our writers are as
follow, being in all
"Altissimo Signore Vostre sono le lodi, La gloria, e gli onori," &c. (See Crescimbeni, Comentarj, l. i. c. 10.)
Sir Thomas Wyatt has a stanza of eight, where the 4th and 8th are of six syllables; it has three rhymes, the 1st, 2d, and 3d answering each other; the 4th and 8th; the 5th, 6th, and 7th.
The Canzone is of very ancient date: the invention of it being ascribed to Girard de Borneil, of the School of Provence, who died in 1178. He was of Limoges, and was called
See Fauchet, de la Langue et Poesie Françoise, l. ii. (A.D. 1581). The Latin, whence they translated, was (I imagine) the Alexandréis of Gualterus, (or Gautier de Châtillon, a native of Lisle in Flanders), a poet who lived about the same time, that is, in the middle of the twelfth century. It is observable, that none of these four Jongleurs was a Provençal, nor do they write in that dialect, yet they are contemporary with the most ancient Provençal poets, mentioned by Nôtredame."La verté de l'histoir, si com li Roy la fit, Un Clers de Chateaudun, Lambert li Cors, l'escrit, Qui de Latin la et en Roman la mit."1trest,
1
There was also the regular verse of fourteen used in Queen Elizabeth's time, and in this measure is written Dr. Phaer's Translation of the Æneid; (see Lambarde's Kent and Weever's Funeral Monuments) Arthur Goldynge's Ovid's Metamorphoses, Chevy Chase,
The Provençal poets either invented or made use of all these
measures, from verses of three syllables to those of eleven and thirteen;
but of these last we find no example till about the year 1321,
The most ancient instance of rhyming verse, as Sir W. Temple
And in a treatise written by Theodulus (who lived in 480 under the
Emperor Zeno), De Contemptu Mundi, are these lines:
What serves to confirm me in the opinion, that, beside their other species
of verse, they might also use rhyme occasionally, is this: we have still
extant in the language of the Franks a
There are
The earliest of
As to the Provençal writers, Crescimbeni observes, "Avvi certezza, che incominiciassero (i rimatori Provenzali) circa il 1100 sotto il Guglielmo VIII. duca d'Aquitania, e l' istesso duca fosse il primo verseggiatore, avendo composto in rima il viaggio di Gerusalemme, e qualche cosa amorosa.— Non si truovano però rime più antiche di quelle di Giusfredo Rudello, che molto scrisse in lode della Contessa di Tripoli, che amò, e appresso cui morì l' anno 1162." (Crescimb. Istor. della Volg. Poesia, l. i. p. 6.)— Dante, who was born in 1265, ascribes the origin of the old romances in prose to the French nation, and that of the
(N. B. It is remarkable that Walafrid Strabo, who died in 840, and other
writers of that age, call themselves
However, we have not now among us any rhymes more ancient than that period,
which extends from the Conquest in 1066 to the reign of Henry the Second,
which begun in 1154; our tongue being then much mixed with the Norman-Gallic,
and degenerating into what Hickes calls the Semi-Saxon, as in the Life of St.
Margaret.
And in those verses preserved in some MSS. in the Bodleian Library, and in
Trinity College, Cambridge.
This is inscribed Parabolae Regis Ælfredi. See J. Spelman's Life of Alfred, p. 98.
Other examples of ancient rhyme, within the period assigned, may be seen
in Dr. Hickes, ch. xxiv. from whom I have transcribed the former. Yet though
this kind of versification
It is not written
in distinct verses, as here, upon the marble, but like prose, all
confused together. (Crescimb. Coment. vol. i. l. 1, c. 4,
p. 100.)— Dante observes, "Videtur
The President Fauchet takes pains to
prove that the people of [p. 65] Normandy, of Provence, of Sicily,
of Italy, of Spain, &c. all borrowed their rhyme from the Franks;
and, I own, it wears a face of probability: but then it may be equally
probable that the Franks borrowed it from the Latin church. He cites
also the Life of Sancta Fides, in the Catalan dialect of the Spanish
tongue (it is, he says, as old as the year 1100, and in rhyme), which
calls the rhyming verses
and thus through the whole poem, which is a long one, with very few
exceptions, the triple consonance is observed in every distich.
dus in princip.
Robert Crowley, who printed the first edition of Peirce Plowman's Vision
in 1550 (dated by mistake 1505) says, that Robert Langland, the author of it,
"wrote
In the same measure is the poem called "
It cannot be supposed possible to fix exactly the time when rhyme was first introduced and practised in a country; but if we trace it back to the remotest monuments of the kind now extant, we shall find the aeras nearly as follows:
See also Fauchet (l. i. c. 7.) and Maffei (Journal Italien, t. i.) "On ne peut nier que la rime ne tire son origine des vers rimés et Leonins de la basse Latinité, connus uniquement dans des siècles barbares.""Coena brevis, | vel coena levis | fit raro molesta, Magna nocet, | medicina docet, | res est manifesta," &c.
This is the opinion of Crescimbeni (Istor. della Poesia, l. i. p. 13), and
it will appear very natural, if we consider the near affinity of the Latin and
Provençal tongues; and that they were accustomed to Latin rhymes in
their books of religion, epitaphs, inscriptions, and other compositions of
the learned in those days. Besides that in many old Provencal poems the rhyme
not only appears at the end, but in the
And,
and upon such verses as these
(it seems) he built his reputation; [p. 70] so that they have ever
since borne the name of Leonine verses; and the
So that the rhyme-female was
not looked upon as a rhyme of two syllables. An old book, printed in
1493, intitled, "L'Art et Science de Rhetorique pour faire Rhymes et
Ballades," says, "Ryme Leonisme est, quand deux dictions sont
semblables et de pareille consonance en syllabes, comme au chapitre
de jalousie, de Jean de Meung:
But the
word
(See Fauchet,
l. i. c. 8, and Pasquier, l. vii. c. 2. Menage Dictionnaire Etymol. v.
Leonins. Jul. Scaliger Poetice. Naude Mascurat, p. 332.)
and the poem
Observe, that, if the date of this poem be true, the general opinion, that
the
and the great work, or La Divina Comedia, of the same poet.
The oldest instance which we have of RHYME IN OUR TONGUE (if it be genuine)
is that
That King began his reign in 1043, and this grant must have been made before
1051, when Earl Godwyn rebelled; for Swein, the eldest son of Godwyn, and
brother to Edward's wife, is named as a witness to it. From that time he was
in arms against the king till he went to the Holy Land, whence he never
returned. It is to be observed, that he is here called
There is another of the same sort preserved by Stow in his Chronicle, and
transcribed more perfectly by Blount (in his
To the heyrs male of the Hopton lawfully begotten, &c.
There is also a poetical History of Great Britain extant,
And another in like measure, as old as Henry the Second or Richard the
First, on King Alfred, as follows:
There is a large fragment of this poem printed in J. Spelman's Life of Alfred, fol. Oxon., 1678, p. 96.
In
In one
(
(
An hule and one nightingale
(
That
(
Sum wile soft and lud among
(
And
(
And let that
(
And either seide of otheres
(
That alere worste that hi wuste
(
And
(
Hi holde plaidung suthe stronge
(
See also Pope Adrian the Fourth's Paraphrase of the Pater-noster, sent to Henry the Second, King of England (in Camden's Remains), and the Poetical Version of the Psalms (of Edward the Second's time) cited by Selden in his Titles of Honour, p. i. c. 3. The same may be seen in Weever's Funeral Monuments, p. 152; see also Scotch rhyme on Edward the First, and the answer (ibid. p. 458); Robert of Gloucester's Chronicle.
Note. — It appears from a story
at alter versificator inquit,
this prelate died in the year 919.
As to those rhyming epitaphs of
(
In the most ancient of the British poets and others, it appears that the
The Druidical compositions, which served as a model to Taliessin, Llywark,
and others of the most ancient and best of the British poets, whose works are
preserved, and have since served for the foundation of that excellent prosodia
which they have in the Welsh grammar, and which is perhaps the finest that
any language affords, were admirably contrived for assisting the memory.
They were all adapted to music, every word being harmonious, the strongest
and most expressive
These are the words of a very judicious antiquary, Mr.
This "
That the Saxons, who had
John Lydgate was born at a place of that name in Suffolk, about the year
1370.
This work, he tells us, was begun while Henry the Sixth was in France,
where that King never was but when he went to be crowned at Paris in 1432,
so that if Lydgate were then upwards of threescore, he must have been born
at the time I have assigned; and Tanner says that he was ordained a deacon
After enumerating the principal English poets who lived before him, whose
merit he does not pretend to equal, he says,
There are a few other things in this work of Lydgate's which have no
connection with his merit as a poet, but are curious as they relate to the
history and manners of the times in which he lived. Thus in book viii. c. 24,
we see that wine was still made in England in Henry the Sixth's reign, and
that Hampshire was famous for it; so that the reason assigned for neglecting
the culture of vines, I mean, that we could have so much better wines from
our French dominions, is not true; and indeed a few years after this we lost
all our conquests and territories in that country.
We may remark too the notion then current in Britain, that
And we may remark also the opinion, then prevailing, that a decisive victory
was a certain proof of the justice of the conqueror's cause, which was but
natural among a people which for ages had been taught to refer even civil
causes to a decision by combat.
It seems that Lydgate was little acquainted with the Latin tongue, whatever
he might be with the Italian and French, in which Bishop Tanner says he was
well skilled, having travelled in both those countries; for he says himself,
But this perhaps
These
Whether these apprehensions are well or ill grounded, it is sufficient
for me that Homer,
We may every day see instances of this: the better sort of people
affect to introduce many words from that language, some of which
retain their original accent for many years, such as
"Which among all that
Or,"Of right
Here undoubtedly
""Ĭn pērfĭt līvĭng,
whīch păssīth poĕsīe"—
Or,"Nor with Ŏvīde ĭn
"Shall foll
The syllables I have
marked were melted into one, as well in "foll"Caūse ŏf mў
sōr
here "sorWho but must laugh, the master when he sees,
&c.
in the Epistle on Taste to Lord Burlington) in the
compass of forty lines only seven words at the end of a verse which are not
monosyllables: there is indeed one which is properly a dissyllable,
To return to Lydgate. I do not pretend to set him on a level with his
master, Chaucer, but he certainly comes
Of the same kind is the prayer of Theodosius before he engaged in battle
with Arbogastes (in the same book, fol. 188). A second instance of the
pathetic, but in a different way, I shall transcribe from the first book,
fol. 39, to shew how far he could enter into the distresses of love and of
maternal fondness. Canace, condemned to death by Æolus her father,
sends to her guilty brother Macareus the last testimony of her unhappy
passion:
I stop here, not because there are not great beauties in the remainder
of this epistle, but because Lydgate, in the three last stanzas of this
extract, has touched the very heart-springs of compassion with so masterly a
hand, as to merit a place among the greatest poets. The learned reader will
see the resemblance they bear to one of the most admirable remnants of all
antiquity, I mean
A third kind of pathos arises from magnanimity in distress, which, managed
by a skilful hand, will touch us even where we detest the character which
suffers. Of this too I shall produce an example in Olympias, the mother of
Alexander, betrayed into the hands of the perfidious Cassander. It begins:
His faith was laidè that time for hostàge —
And for five stanzas following.
And his reflections, after this, upon the fortitude of so cruel and
imperious a woman shew
Of the same kind are his description of Mithridates surrounded by the troops of Pompey in Armenia, (B. vi. fol. 153) the Speech of Regulus to the Senate, (B. v.) and that of Lucrece to her husband and father determining on death, (B. ii. fol. 48) and the same story repeated, for he has told it twice in a different manner (B. iii. fol. 74).
It is observable that in images of horrour, and in a certain terrible
greatness, our author comes far behind Chaucer. Whether they were not suited
to the genius or to the temper of Lydgate, I do not determine; but it is
certain that, though they naturally seemed to present themselves, he has
almost generally chosen to avoid them: yet is
There is also a particular elegance in his grave and sententious
reflections, which makes a distinguishing part of his character: of this I
shall give some examples out of a multitude. B. i. f. 6, &c. on pride;
on literature, in the prologue to the fourth book; and on contented poverty
(B. i. f. 34); and on the vices of persons meanly born, when raised to power
(B. iv. f. 118); but examples of this kind are too many and too prolix for
me to transcribe. I shall refer, however, also to those verses which
recommend gentleness and mercy to women (f. 115); on the mischiefs of
flattery (f. 44); on ingratitude (f. 139); on patience (f. 211); on avarice
(f. 93); on the duties of a king (f. 190); and the allegorical,
Lydgate seems to have been by nature of a more serious and melancholy turn
of mind than Chaucer; yet one here and there meets with a stroke of satire
and irony which does not want humour, and it usually falls (as was the custom
of those times) either
But Bochas here, &c.
for three stanzas.
In the dispute between Brunichilde, Queen of France, and Boccaccio, he is
more direct and explicit:
(B. ix. f. 198), and so for three stanzas: and surely his reflections on
Orpheus, when he had lost Euridice, are neither deficient in spirit nor in
expression (B. i. f. 32):
and for five stanzas.
This kind of satire will, I know, appear to modern men to taste a little stale and unfashionable; but our reflections should go deeper, and lead us to consider the fading and transitory nature of wit in general. I have above attempted to shew the source whence the two prevailing subjects of our ancestors' severity were derived: let us also observe their different success and duration from those times to our own.
The first, I mean the frailties of women, are now become the favourite
theme of conversation among country-gentlemen,
Go but into some county at a distance from the capital; observe their table,
their furniture, their habits; and be sure that there was a time (which a
person of curiosity in the original and antiquity of national customs may
frequently discover) when those meats with which they serve you, and those
moveables which they use, were delicacies and conveniences of life, only
seen in the houses of people of high distinction; and when those forms of
dress, at which you now laugh, were newly imported or invented by some
"ruffling gallant," or by some lofty dame of honour in the court of Elizabeth,
perhaps, or, at latest, of Charles the Second. In the same manner, in their
expressions of civility and compliment, and in their turn of reflection,
their stories and their jokes all savour of a former age, and once belonged
to the most polished and gayest people of our nation. Sometimes they were
originally ridiculous and absurd, sometimes far more proper and more sensible
than what has been since introduced
That general satire upon the female sex, of which I am speaking, is now
banished from good company; for which there may be several reasons given.
Celibacy is no more enjoined to our clergy, and as knowledge and writing
diffused themselves among the body of the people, the clergy grew no longer
to be the leaders of their taste and humour; and lastly, we have (as in most
things) adopted in some measure that extreme politeness and respect which the
French
But raillery on the priesthood has continued through every age, and
remains almost as fashionable as ever. It was in its full force about the
time of the Reformation, and a little before, upon the revival of learning
and the invention of printing: afterwards it turned upon our established
church, and the variety of sects produced the same effect that the variety
of the religious orders had done formerly; not to mention the struggles for
power between the Church and the Commonwealth in Charles the First's and in
Charles the Second's reign, and at the Revolution, and in the last years of
Queen Anne, and in the beginning of George the First, which have produced a
lasting bitterness and rancour, which keeps this kind of satire alive and in
countenance
The examples of this second kind of wit are much
And in B. ix. f. 217:
The Pope, indeed, out of respect to his dignity, and the Chartreux and
the Hermit, (who were entirely abstracted from worldly affairs, and exposed
therefore to no one's malignity,) shew less repugnance to death, and the
latter even welcomes him with great
Lydgate, however, makes his apology to the ladies very handsomely for the
hard things he has said of them:
The epilogue addressed to the Duke of Gloucester, and the three envoyes
which follow it, have much poetical expression in them, which was
Lydgate's
[1.]
Let no man boaste of cunnyng, ne virtù,
Of tresour, richesse,
nor of sapience,
Of worldly sùpport, alle cummith of
Jesù,
Counsel, comfòrt, discretion, and
prudènce,
Promotĭon, foresighte, and providence;
Like as the lord of grace lyst to dispose,
Som man hath wisdom,
som hath eloquence.
All stand on chaunge, like a midsòmer
rose.
[p. 113]
[2.]
Holsome in smellyng
be the sotè flowers,
Full delectàble outwarde to the
syght;
The thorn is sharpe, endued with freshe colòurs;
All is not gold, that outwarde sheweth bryght.
A stockfysch bone
in darkeness giveth light,
Twene faire and fowle, as God list to
dispose,
A difference atwyx the day and nyght.
All stand on
chaunge, like a midsòmer rose.
[3.]
Flowerrès open upon every greene
Whannè the
larkè, mesangere of day,
Saleweth the' upryst of the sunnis
shene
Most amorosely in April and in May;
And Aurora, agayne
the morrow gray,
Causith the daysy his crowne to unclose.
Worldly gladnèsse is medlyd with affray:
All stand on
chaunge, like a midsòmer rose.
[4.]
Atwene the cukkow and the nightyngale
There is amayde a
straungè difference.
On freschè branchys singyth the
wood-wayle;1
Jays in musìcke have small
experĭence;
Chattering pyes, whan they cum in
presènce,
Most malapert theire verdyte to propose.
All
thyng hath favour brevely in sentènce
Of soft or sharp,
like a midsòmer rose.
[5.]
The royal
lion let call a parlament,
All beastis soone aboute him
ènviron;1 Wood-pigeon. Some say it is the
witwall or golden thrush.
[p. 114]
The wolf of malice being
ther presènt
Upon the lambe complayns again resòn
Saidè, he made his water ùnholsumme,
Hys tendyr
stomak to' hinder and undispose;
Ravenors ravyne, the' innocent is
bore downe.
All stand on chaunge, like a midsòmer rose.
[6.]
All worldly thyngè braidyth upon
time;
The sunnè chaungith, so does the pale moone;
The
aureat noumbre in kalenders for prime:
Fortune is double, doth
favour for no boone;
And who that hath with that qwene1
to done,
Contrariosely she will his chaunge dispose;
Who sitteth
hyghest, most like to fall sone.
All stands on chaunge, like a
midsòmer rose.
[7.]
The golden carr of
Phebus in the aire
Causith mists blake that they dare not
appere,
At whose upryst mountains be made so faire
As they were
new gylt with his bemys clere,
The nyght doth follow, appallith
all his chere,
When westerne waves his stremys over close;
Recken all beawty, all fresheness, that is here:
All stand on
chaunge, like a midsòmer rose.
[8.]
Constreynt of cold makith the fowlis 2
With
wynter frost, that they dare not appere;
All cladde in russett soil
of greene is bare,
Tellus and Juno dullyd of their chere
1 Harlot.2
[p. 115]
By
revolution turnyng of the yere;
As grayè March his
stoundys1 doth disclose,
Now rayne, now storme, now
Phebus bright and clere.
All stand on chaunge, like a
midsòmer rose.
[9.]
Of Juda and Israel famous and
notàble?
And where is Solomon, soveraine of
cunnìng,
Richest of buylding, of tresour
incomparàble?
Face of Absalom most faire most amiable?
Recken up echone, of truth make no close;
Recken up Jonathas of
friendship ìmmutable.
All stand on chaunge, like a
midsòmer rose.
[10.]
Where Julius,
proudest in his empìre,
With his triumphis most
imperial?
And where is Porus, that was lord and sire
Of
Indè in hys hygh estate royàl?
And where is Alisaund,
that conquer'd all?
Fayld laisour his testament to dispose,
Nabucodnosor, or Sardanapal?
All stand on chaunge like a
midsòmer rose.
[11.]
And where is
Tullius wyth hys sugyrd tungue,
Or Chrìsostomus with his
golden mouthe?
The aureat ditties that were redde or sunge
Of
Hòmerus in Grece both north and south?
The tragedïes
divers and unkouth
Of moral Seneck the misteries to unclose?
By
many' examplys this 2 is full kowth:
All stand
on chaunge as a midsòmer rose.1 Times,
weathers. Saxon.2 i. e. This motto is well known.
[p. 116]
[12.]
Where ben of Frauncè
all the dousĕperes1
Which over allè had
the governance?
(Wowis of the pecok with her prowdè
chères!)
The worthy2 nine with allè their
beaunce
The Trojan knightes, greatest of àllyaunce?
The
flece of gold conquered in Colchòse?
Rome and
Carthàge most soverein of puissaùnce?
All stand on
chaunge, like a midsòmer rose.
[13.]
Putt in a summe
all martial policye,
Compleat in Afrik, and bowndis of
Cartàge,
The Theban legion, example' of chivalry,
At
Jordain's river was expert their coràge,
There thousand
knightis born of hygh paràge,
There martyrd, redde in metre
and in prose;
The golden crownes made in the heavenly stage,
Fresher than lily', or the midsòmer rose.
[14.]
The rémembraunce of every famose knyght,
Grownd considerd, is buylt on ryghtwysnesse.
Rose out eche
quarrell that' is not buylt on right.
Withouten trouthe what
vaylith high noblèsse?
Lawrer of martyrs foundyd on
holynesse,
White was made rede their triumphs to disclose;
The
whitè lilie was theire chast cleannèsse,
Theire
bloody sufferaunce no midsòmer rose:1 Douze
Pairs; the twelve peers of Charlemagne.2 The nine
Worthies: they are Joshua, David, Judas Machabeus, Hector, Alexander,
Julius Caesar, Arthur, Charlemagne, and Godfrey of Boulogne.
[p. 117]
[15.]
It was the rosè of the
bloodye field,
The rose of Jericho, that grew in Bethlèmm,
The fine posìes, purtreyed on the sheelde
Splayd in the
banner at Jerusalem.
The sunne was clypsd and darke in every
reame,1
When Jesu Crist five wellis list unclose
Toward Paradyse, and callid the rede streme,
Of whose five woundes
print in your heart a rose.
From a MS. in the
Public Library in the University of Cambridge [Hh. iv. 12].
1 Realm.
His genius and style rarely if ever rise to that elevation, that the
stronger and more terrific emotions of mind require. His figures and allusions
are neither many nor bold; he had little invention in the design, or art in
the arrangement of his ideas. His ear was good, his versification like his
style flowing and unaffected. As
SOME FRENCH PLAYS
[
. . . At night we went to the Pandore; a spectácle literally, for it
is nothing but a beautiful piece of machinery of three scenes. The first
represents the chaos, and by degrees the separation of the elements. The
second, the temple of Jupiter, the giving of the box to Pandora. The third,
the opening of the box, and all the mischiefs that ensued. An absurd design,
but executed in the highest perfection, and that in one of the finest theatres
in the world; it is the grande sale des machines in the Palais des Tuileries.
Next day dined at
THEATRICAL NOTES
[
. . . We have seen here your
I saw her the other Night do the Phaedra of Racine, in a manner which affected me so strongly, that as you see, I can't help prattling about her even to you, that do not care two Pence. . . .
VERSAILLES
[
After the little particulars aforesaid I should have proceeded to a journal
of our transactions for this week past, should have carried you post from
hence to Versailles, hurried you through the gardens to Trianon, back again
to Paris, so away to Chantilly. But the fatigue is perhaps more than you can
bear, and moreover I think I have reason to stomach your last piece of
gravity. Supposing you were in your soberest mood, I am sorry you should think
me capable of ever being so dissipé, so evaporé, as not to be
in a condition of relishing anything you could say to me. And now, if you have
a mind to make your peace with me, arouse ye from your megrims
THE ALPS
[
. . . I own I have not, as yet, anywhere met with those grand and simple
works of Art, that are to amaze one, and whose sight one is to be the better
for: but those of Nature have astonished me beyond expression. In our little
journey up to
TACITUS; THE DUNCIAD
[
. . . Pray do not imagine that Tacitus, of all authors in the world,
As to
JOSEPH ANDREWS; THE LANGUAGE OF POETRY
[
. . . I talked of the Dunciad as concluding you had seen it; if you have
not, do you choose I should get and send it you? I have myself, upon your
recommendation, been reading Joseph Andrews. The incidents are ill laid and
without invention; but the characters have a great deal of nature, which
always pleases even in her lowest
You are very good in giving yourself the trouble to read and find fault
with my long harangues. Your freedom (as you call it) has so little need of
apologies, that I should scarce excuse your treating me any otherwise; which,
whatever compliment it might be to my vanity, would be making a very ill one
to my understanding. As to matter of style, I have this to say: the language
of the age is never the language of poetry; except among the French, whose
verse, where the thought or image does not support it, differs in
And what follows. To me they appear untranslatable; and if this be the case,
our language is greatly degenerated. However, the affectation of imitating
Shakespear may doubtless be carried too far; and is no sort of excuse for
sentiments ill-suited, or speeches ill-timed, which I believe is a little the
case with me. I guess the most faulty expressions may be these —
TACITUS
[
. . . I think you have translated Tacitus very justly, that is, freely;
and accommodated his thoughts to the turn and genius of our language; which,
though I commend your judgment, is no commendation of the English tongue,
which is too diffuse, and daily grows more and more enervate. One shall never
be more sensible of this, than in turning an Author like Tacitus. I have been
trying it in some parts of Thucydides (who has a little resemblance of him
in his conciseness) and endeavoured to do it closely, but found it produced
mere nonsense. If you have any inclination to see what figure Tacitus makes
in Italian, I have a Tuscan translation of
WEST'S ODE ON MAY
[
I rejoice to see you putting up your
[Three Greek lines (omitted)]
Guess, too, where this is about a dimple.
GARRICK, THE DUCHESS OF QUEENSBURY, ETC.
[
. . . 'Tis true indeed
THE STORY OF MASSINISSA
[
I send you an inscription for a wood joining to a park of mine (it is on
the confines of Mount
Here follows also the beginning of
AKENSIDE'S PLEASURES OF THE IMAGINATION, ETC.
[
. . . You desire to know, it seems, what Character the Poem of your
You are much in the Right to have a taste for Socrates, he was a divine
Man. I must tell you, by way of the News of the Place, that the other day,
[
I take it very ill you should have been in
[
. . . Have you seen the Works of two young Authors,
COLLEY CIBBER'S CICERO
[
I had been absent from this place a few days, and at my return found
Literature, to take it in its most comprehensive sense, and include
everything that requires invention or judgment, or barely application and
industry, seems indeed drawing apace to its dissolution, and remarkably since
the beginning of the war. I remember to have read
SPENCE'S POLYMETIS
[
I have abundance of thanks to return you for the entertainment Mr. Spence's book has given me, which I have almost run over already; and I much fear (see what it is to make a figure) the breadth of the margin, and the neatness of the prints, which are better done than one could expect, have prevailed upon me to like it far better than I did in manuscript; for I think it is not the very genteel deportment of Polymetis, nor the lively wit of Mysagetes, that have at all corrupted me.
There is one fundamental fault, from whence most of the little faults
throughout the whole arise. He professes to neglect the Greek writers, who
could have given him more instruction on
There are several little neglects, that one might have told him of, which
I noted in reading it hastily; as page 311, a discourse about orange-trees,
occasioned by Virgil's "inter odoratum lauri nemus," where he fancies the
Roman Laurus to be
LYTTELTON'S ELEGY, ETC.
[
. . . I am not totally of your mind as to
[
. . . Have you seen Lyttelton's Monody on his Wife's Death? There are
Parts of it too stiff and poetical; but others truly tender and elegiac, as
one would wish. Dodsley is publishing three Miscellaneous Volumes; some new,
many that have been already printed. Lyttelton,
LE MÉCHANT, LE SIDNEY, ETC.
[
. . . Your opinion of Diodorus is doubtless right; but there are Things in
him very curious, got out of better Authors, now lost. Do you remember the
Egyptian History, and particularly
DODSLEY'S MISCELLANY
[
I am obliged to you for
All there is of
I like Mr. Aston Hervey's Fable; and
GRESSET, ETC.
[
. . . I am glad you have had any Pleasure in Gresset: he seems to me a
truly elegant and charming Writer. The Méchant is the best comedy I
ever read.
Le jour d'un nouveau règne est le jour des ingrats.
But good Lines will make anything rather than a good Play. However you are
to consider, this is a Collection made by the Dutch Booksellers. Many Things
unfinish'd or wrote in his Youth,
which is very true, and should have been a Hint to himself not to write Odes
to the King at all. . . .
MONTESQUIEU'S L'ESPRIT DES LOIX
[
You ask for some Account of Books. The principal I can tell you of is a
work of
CRÉBILLON'S CATILINA, ETC.
[
. . . Rosse's "Epistles of Tully ad Familiares" will come out in about a
Week. It is in two handsome 8vo Volumes, with an Introduction and Notes in
English, but no Translation, dedicated to Lord Gower. Now I am come to Books,
there is a new edition of Montesquieu's Work (which I mentioned to you before)
publishing in 2 vols. 8vo. Have you seen old Crébillon's "
[
. . .
ASHTON'S DISSERTATION
[
. . . Now I have talked of writings, I have seen
BUFFON AND D'AUBENTON'S HISTOIRE DU CABINET DU ROI
[
My dear Wharton — Aristotle says (one may write Greek to you without
scandal) that
[Greek line (omitted)]
But Aristotle may say whatever he pleases. I do not find myself at all the
worse for it. I could indeed wish to refresh my [Greek word (omitted)] a
little at Durham by a Sight of you, but when is there a Probability of my
being so happy? It concerned me greatly when I heard the other Day, that
your Asthma continued at Times to afflict you, and that you were often
obliged to go into the Country to breathe. You cannot oblige me more than
[
. . . You will take me for a mere poet, and a fetcher and carrier of
sing-song, if I tell you that I intend to send you the beginning of a drama,
not mine, thank God, as you will believe, when you hear it is finished, but
wrote by a person whom I have a very good opinion of. It is (unfortunately)
in the manner of the ancient drama, with choruses, which I am to my shame the
occasion of; for, as great part of it was at first written in that form, I
would not suffer him to change it to a play fit for the stage, and as he
intended, because the lyric parts are the best of it, they must have been
lost. The story is Saxon, and the language has a tang of Shakespeare, that
suits an old-fashioned fable very well. In short I don't do it merely to
amuse you, but for the sake of the author, who wants a judge, and so I would
lend him
[
. . .
[
I
"
The ancients were perpetually crossed and harassed by the necessity of
using the Chorus, and, if they have done wonders notwithstanding this clog,
sure I am they would have performed still greater wonders without it. For
the same reason we may be allowed to admit of
I forgot to mention that
II
I do not admit that the excellences of the French writers are measured by
III
There is nothing ungracious or improper in
IV
If modern music cannot, as you say,
MIDDLETON'S WORKS, ETC.
[
I send you this (as you desire) merely to make up half a dozen; though it
will hardly answer your end in furnishing out either a head or a tailpiece.
But your own fable may much better supply the place. You have altered it to
its advantage; but there is still something a little embarrassed here and
there in the expression. I rejoice to find you apply (pardon the use of so
odious a word) to the history of your own times. Speak, and spare not. Be as
impartial as you can; and after
MEMOIRS BY FREDERICK II., ETC.
[
MADAME DE MAINTENON'S LETTERS, ETC.
[
. . .
GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE
[
Dear Sir — I rejoice to find you at last settled to your heart's
content, and delight to hear you talk of giving your house
STROPHE AND ANTISTROPHE
[
. . . I am not quite of your opinion with regard to
BAIARDI AND VOLTAIRE
[
I thank you for your intelligence about Herculaneum, which was the first
news I received of it. I have since turned over
I am much obliged to you also for
CHANGES IN THE BARD
[
. . . Though I allow abundance for your kindness and partiality to me, I
am yet much pleased with the good opinion you seem to have of the
Though
T. G.
She-Wolf of France with unrelenting fangs, That tear'st the bowels of thy mangled Mate; From thee be born, who o'er thy country hangs The Scourge of Heaven. What Terrors round him wait! Amazement in his Van with Flight combined, And Sorrow's faded form and Solitude behind. Ant. 2. Mighty Conqu'ror [Victor], mighty Lord, Low on the [his] funeral couch he lies; What [No] pitying heart, what [no] eye afford A tear to grace his obsequies? Is the sable Warrior fled? Thy son is gone. He rests among the dead. The swarm that hover'd in thy noontide ray? [in thy noontide beam were born] Gone to salute the rising day [morn]Mirrors of Saxon truth and loyalty, Your helpless old expiring master view, They hear not. Scarce Religion dares supply
Her mutter'd Requiems and her holy Dew. Yet thou, proud Boy, from Pomfret's walls shalt send A sigh, and envy oft thy happy Grand sire's end. Epode 2. Fill high the sparkling bowl, The rich repast prepare, Reft of a crown he yet may share the feast. Close by the regal chair Fell Thirst and Famine scowl A smile of horror on their baffled guest. Heard ye the din of battle bray, Lance to lance and horse to horse! Long years of havock urge their destined course, And thro' the kindred squadrons mow their way. Grim [Ye] towers of Julius, London's lasting shame,With many a foul and midnight murther fed, Revere his consort's faith, his Father's fame, And spare the meek Usurper's hallow'd head. Above, below, the Rose of snow, Twined with her blushing foe we spread: The bristled boar in infant gore, Wallows beneath the thorny shade. Now, Brothers, bending o'er the accursed loom, Stamp we our vengeance deep, and ratify his doom. Strophe 3. Edward, lo! to sudden fate, (Weave we the woof. The thread is spun), Half of thy heart we consecrate (The web is wove. The work is done). Stay, oh stay, nor here [thus] forlorn Leave your despairing Caradoc to mourn! me unbless'd. Unpitied here In yon bright clouds [track] that fires the western skies,
They sink [melt], they vanish from my eyes. But ah! what solemn scenes of Heaven on Snowdon's height,Descending slow their golden [glitt'ring] skirts unroll! Visions of glory, spare my aching sight, Ye unborn ages, crowd not on my soul. From Cambria's thousand hills a thousand strains Triumphant tell aloud, another Arthur reigns. Antist. 3 Youthful Knights and [Girt with many a] Barons boldSublime their starry fronts they rear With dazzling helm, and horrent spear And gorgeous Dames, and Statesmen old, In bearded majesty appear. In the midst a Form divine, Her eye proclaims her of the Briton-Line; A [Her] Lyon-port,an [her] awe-commanding face,Attemper'd sweet to virgin-grace. What strings symphonious tremble in the air! What strains of vocal transport round her play! Hear from the grave, great Taliessin, hear, They breath a soul to animate thy clay. Bright Rapture calls, and soaring, as she sings, Waves in the eye of Heaven her many-coloured wings. Epode 3. The verse adorn again, Fierce War, and Faithful Love, And Truth severe by fairy-Fiction drest. In buskin'd measures move Pale Grief and pleasing Pain, With Horrour, tyrant of the throbbing breast.
A voice as of the Cherub-Quire, Gales from blooming Eden bear; And distant Warblings lessen on my ear, That lost in long futurity expire. Fond impious man, think'st thou yon sanguine cloud Rais'd by thy breath has quench'd the Orb of day? To-morrow he repairs the golden flood, And warms the Nations with redoubled ray. Enough for me. With joy I see The different doom our fates assign, Be thine Despair, and scepter'd Care. To triumph and to die are mine. He spoke, and headlong from the mountain's height Deep in the roaring tide he sunk to endless night.
HENRY IV. OF FRANCE AND SULLY
[
. . . The similitude between the Italian republics and those of ancient
Greece has often struck me, as it does you. I do not wonder, that
TWO VOLUMES OF MEMOIRS
[
. . . I recommend two little French books to you, one called
[
. . .
CHILD MAURICE, ETC.
[
Dear Mason — I send you inclosed the breast and merry-thought and
guts and garbage of
"Lo! to be free to die, are mine."
If you like it better so, so let it be. It is more abrupt, and perhaps may
mark the action better; or it may be —
"Lo! liberty and death are mine."
whichever you please. But as to breaking the measure, it is not to be thought
of; it is an inviolable law of the Medes and Persians. Pray think a little
about this conclusion, for all depends upon it; the rest is of little
consequence. "In bearded majesty," was altered to "of" only because the next
line begins with "In the midst," &c. I understand what you mean about "The
verse adorn again." You may read —
But I do not think it signifies much, for there is
"With Horror, tyrant of the throbbing breast."
Why you would alter "lost in long futurity" I do not see, unless because
you think "lost" and "expire" are tautologies, or because it looks as if the
end of the prophecy were disappointed by it, and that people may think that
poetry in Britain was some time or other really to expire, whereas the meaning
is only that it was lost to his ear from the immense distance. I cannot give
up "lost," for it begins with an
I wish you were here, for I am tired of writing such stuff; and besides, I
have got
You will observe in the beginning of
I have seen your friend the Dean of S[alisbur]y here to-day in the theatre, and thought I should have sp[e]w[e]d. I am very glad you are to be a court chaplain nevertheless; for I do not think you need be such a one,— I defy you ever to be.
I have now seen
[
Dear Mason — I have, as I desired Stonehewer to tell you, read over
I always admired that interruption of the Druids to Evelina, "Peace,
Virgin, peace," &c.; and chiefly
You will laugh at my "these's" and "those's," but they strike my ear better. What Mador sings must be the finest thing that ever was wrote; and the next chorus, where they all go to sleep, must be finer still.
In the beginning of the succeeding act I admire the chorus again, "Is it
not now the hour, the holy hour," &c.: and their evasion of a lie, "Say'st
thou, proud boy," &c.: and "Sleep with the unsunn'd silver," which is an
example of a dramatic simile. The sudden appearance of
When we treat a subject where the manners are almost lost in antiquity our stock of ideas must needs be small, and nothing betrays our poverty more than the returning to and harping frequently on one image; it was therefore I thought you should omit some lines before, though good in themselves, about the scythed car, that the passage now before us might appear with greater lustre when it came; and in this, I see, you have complied with me. But there are other ideas here and there still that occur too often, particularly about the oaks, some of which I would discard to make way for the rest.
But the subjects I speak of, to compensate (and more than compensate) that
unavoidable poverty, have one great advantage when they fall into good hands:
they leave an unbounded liberty to pure imagination and fiction (our favourite
provinces), where no critic can molest or antiquary gainsay us. And yet (to
please me) these fictions must have some affinity, some seeming connection
with that little we really know of the character and customs of the people.
For example, I never heard in my days that midnight and the moon were sisters,
that they carried rods of ebony and gold, or met to whisper on the top
Now I proceed. The preparation to the Chorus, though so much akin to that
in the former act, is excellent. The remarks of Evelina, and her suspicions
of the brothers, mixed with a secret inclination to the younger of them
(though, I think, her part throughout wants re-touching), yet please me much;
and the contrivance of the following scene much more. "Masters of wisdom, no,"
&c., I always admired, as I do the rocking-stone and the distress of
Elidurus. Evelina's examination of him is a well-invented scene, and will be,
with a little pains, a very touching one; but the introduction of Arviragus
is superlative. I am not sure whether those few lines of his short narrative,
"My strength repaired,
Now for the last Act. I do not know what you would have, but to me the
design and contrivance of it is at least equal to any part of the whole. The
short-lived triumph of the Britons — the address of Caractacus to the
Roman victims
[
. . . I am greatly pleased with M[aso]n's
[
Dear Mason — Why you make no more of
I am extremely pleased with your fashionable Ode, and have nothing to find
fault there, only you must say "portray'st" in the first stanza; and "it looks
at best but skin," in the fourth, is not right. I have observed your orders,
but I want to shew it everybody. Pray tell me when I may have the credit of
doing so. I have never
ELEGIES BY MASON
[
Dear Mason — I am almost blind with a great cold, and should not
have written to you to-day if you did not hurry me to send back
Now I desire you would neither think me severe, nor at all regard what I
say any further than it coincides with your own judgment; for the child
deserves your partiality; it is a healthy well-made boy, with an ingenuous
countenance,
I never saw more than two volumes of
You won't find me a place like Mr. Wood's.
"Favour'd steps," useless epithet! Write
"Laurel-circled"; "laurel-woven" sounds better. "Neglect the strings" is
somehow naked: perhaps
"That rules my lyre, neglect her wonted strings."
Read "re-echo to my strain." "His earliest blooms" should be "blossoms."
"Then to thy sight," "to the sight." Read "he pierced." "Modestly retire," I
do not like. "Tufts" sounds ill.
"To moral excellence": a remnant of bad books you read at St. John's; so
is the "dignity of man."
"Of genuine man glowing,"
a bad line. "Dupe" I do not approve. "Taste" too often repeated.
"From that great Guide of Truth,"
hard and prosaic.
"Attend the strain," "quick surprise," better than "sweet." "Luxuriant
Fancy, pause," "exulting leap." — Read
"The wint'ry blast that sweeps ye to the tomb."
From hence to "peasant's life," the thought seems not just, because the
questions are fully as applicable to a prince who does believe the
immortality of the soul as to one who does not; and it looks as if an
orthodox king had a right to sacrifice his myriads for his own ambition,
because they stand a chance of going to heaven, and he of going to hell.
Indeed these four stanzas may be spared, without hurting the sense at all. After "brave the torrent's roar," it goes on very well. "Go, wiser ye," &c.; and the whole was before rather spun out and weakly.
AGIS, DODSLEY'S MISCELLANY, ETC.
[
It is indeed for want of spirits, as you suspect, that my studies lie
among the Cathedrals, and the Tombs, and the Ruins. To think, though to little
To make a transition from myself to as poor a subject, the Tragedy of
I have read
THE RELIGION OF THE GAULS
[
. . . You do not seem to discover that Mons. Mallet is but a very small
scholar, except in the erudition of the Goths. There are,
Pray, when did I pretend to finish, or even insert passages into other
people's works? As if it
MATERIALISM AND SHAFTESBURY
[
I am as sorry as you seem to be, that our acquaintance harped so much on
the subject of materialism, when I saw him with you in town, because it was
plain to which side of the long-debated question he inclined. That we are
indeed
You say you cannot conceive how Lord Shaftesbury came to be a Philosopher
in vogue; I will tell you: First, he was a Lord; 2dly, he was as vain as any
of his readers; 3dly, men are very prone to believe what they do not
understand; 4thly, they will believe anything at all, provided they are under
no obligation to believe it; 5thly, they love to take a new road, even when
that road leads nowhere; 6thly, he was reckoned a fine writer, and seemed
always to mean more than he said. Would you have any more reasons? An
interval of about forty years has pretty well destroyed the charm. A dead
Lord ranks but with Commoners: Vanity is no longer interested in the matter,
for the new road has become an old one. The mode of free-thinking is like
that of Ruffs and Farthingales, and has given place to the mode of not
thinking at all; once it was reckoned graceful, half to discover and half
conceal the mind, but now we have been long accustomed to see it
OBSERVATION AND MEMORY
[
I do not know how to make you amends, having neither rock, ruin, or precipice near me to send you; they do not grow in the South: but only say the word, if you would have a compact neat box of red brick with sash windows, or a grotto made of flints and shell-work, or a walnut-tree with three mole-hills under it, stuck with honey-suckles round a basin of gold-fishes, and you shall be satisfied; they shall come by the Edinburgh coach.
In the meantime I congratulate you on your new acquaintance with the
MASON'S CARACTACUS
[
. . . While I am writing,
[
Ode, p. 32. — "Whom Camber bore." I suppose you say "whom" because the harp is treated as a person; but there is an ambiguity in it; and I should read "that Camber bore." There is a specimen of nice criticism for you!
I much approve
I. 2. — A rill has no tide of waters to "tumble down amain." I am sorry to observe this just in a place where I see the difficulty of rhyming. I object nothing to the "Symphony of ringdoves and poplars," but that it is an idea borrowed from yourself; and I would not have you seem to repeat your own inventions.
I conceive
I. 3. — I read
Yet, if I were foolish, I could find fault with this verse, as others will
do. But what I do not conceive is, how such wings as those of Inspiration
should be mistaken for the wings of Sleep, who (as you yourself tell me
presently) "sinks softly down the skies"; besides, is not "her" false
English? The nominative case is "she."
II. 3. — This belongs to the second epode. Does the swart-star (that
is, Sirius) shine from the north? I believe not. But
[
. . . I send you in short my opinion of Caractacus, so far, I mean, as I
have seen of it; I shall only tell you further, that I am charmed with the
idea you give me of your fourth Ode; it is excellently introduced, and the
specimen you send me even sublime. I am wrapped in it; but the last line of
the stanza falls off, and must be changed, "Courage was in his van," etc.,
for it is ordinary when compared with the rest; to be sure, the immortality
of the soul and the happiness of dying in battle are Druid doctrines; you
I have little to say from hence but that
II. 2. — "Rise at her art's command"
is harsh, and says no more than
"Arise at her command,"
or
"Are born at her command."
II. 3. — I told you of the swart-star before. At the end I read,
"Till Destiny prepare a shrine of purer clay."
Afterwards read, "Resume no more thy strain."
P. 2. — I liked the opening as it was originally better than I do
now, though I never thoroughly understood "how
Yet I have no objection at all to the reflection Didius makes on the power
objects of the sight have over the soul; it is in its place, and might even
be longer, but then it should be more choicely and more feelingly expressed.
He must not talk of dells and streams only, but of something more striking,
and more corresponding to the scene before him. Intellect is a word of
science, and therefore is inferior to any more common word.
P. 4. — What is your quarrel to "shallops"? I like "Go bid thine eagles soar," perhaps from obstinacy, for I know you have met with some wise gentleman who says it is a false thought, and informs you that these were not real eagles, but made of metal or wood, painted. The word "seers," comes over too often: here, besides, it sounds ill. Elidurus need not be so fierce. "Dost thou insult us, Roman?" was better before. Sure "plan'd" is a nasty stiff word.
P. 6. — It must be
P. 7. — "Brother, I spurn it,"—better than "I scorn it." "Misjudging Boy!" is weakly. He calls him coward because such a reproach was most likely to sting him. "I'll do the deed myself," is bolder, more resolute, more hearty, than the alteration. "Lead forth the saintly," etc., better, shorter, and more lively at first. What have I to do with "purple robes" and "arraignments"?—like a trial at York assizes.
P. 8. — "Try, if 'twill bring her deluging," etc., better so, only
I do not like "strait justice":
P. 10. — I do not dislike the idea of
P. 13. — "Befit such station." The verse
wants a syllable. "Even in the breast of Mona," read "the heart of Mona."
"Catches fresh grace"; the simile is good, but not this expression. The Tower
is more majestic, more venerable, not more graceful. I read,
P. 13. — I do not desire he should return the Druid's
salute so politely. Let him enter with that reflection, "This holy place,"
etc., and not stand upon ceremony. It required no alteration, only I hate the
word "vegetate," and would read,
I read, too, "Nor show a Praetor's edict," etc., and
P. 16. — I had rather some of these
personages, "Resignation, Peace, Revenge, Slaughter, Ambition," were stript
of their allegorical garb. A little simplicity here in the expression would
better prepare the high and fantastic strain, and all the unimaginable
harpings that follow. I admire all from "Eager to snatch thee," etc., down to
the first epode of the chorus. You give these Miltonic stanzas up so easily
that I begin to waver about Mador's song. If you have written it, and it turn
out the finest thing in the world, I rejoice, and say no more. Let it come
though it were in the middle of a sermon; but if not, I do confess, at last,
that the chorus may break off, and do very well without a word more. Do not be
angry at the trouble I have given you; and now I have found the reason why I
could not be pleased with Mador's philosophic song. The true lyric style, with
all its flights of fancy, ornaments, and heightening of expression, and
harmony of sound, is in its nature superior to every other style; which is
just the cause why it could not be borne in a work of great length, no more
than the eye could bear to see all this scene that we constantly gaze
P. 24. — "Boldly dare" is tautology.
P. 27. — "Brigantum": there was no such place.
P. 28. — "The sacred
P. 29. — There is an affectation in so often using the old phrase of "or ere" for "before."
P. 30. — "Rack" is the course of the clouds,
P. 31. — "Pensive Pilgrim." Why not? There is an impropriety in
"wakeful wanderer." I have told you my thoughts of this chorus already; the
whole scheme is excellent, the 2d strophe and antistrophe divine.
P. 37. — I do not like "maidenhood."
P. 42. — The only reason why you have altered my favourite speech is,
that "surging and plunging," "main and domain," come too near each other;
but could not you correct these without spoiling all? I read
Pray have done with your "piled stores and coral floors."
P. 43. — "The dies of Fate," that is, "the dice of Fate." Find out another word.
P. 44. — I cannot say I think this scene
improved: I had no objection before, but to "harm a poor wretch like me";
and what you have inserted is to me inferior to what it was meant to replace,
except p. 47, "And why this silence," which is very well;
P. 49. — Why scratch out,
P. 51. —
. . . I did not remember ever to have seen
"meandring way
nor the word "sprite." The beginning too of the epode is
well; but you have used the epithet "pale" before in a sense somewhat
similar, and I do not love repetitions. The line
Where Vice and Folly stray,"
"Or magic numbers"
interrupts the run of the stanza, and lets the
The sense of your simile about the "distant thunder" is not clear, nor well expressed; besides, it implies too strong a confession of guilt.
The stanza you sent me for the second Ode is very rude;
and neither the idea nor verses touch me much. It is not the gout that makes
me thus difficult. Finish but your Death-song as well as you imagined and
begun it, and mind if I won't be more pleased than anybody. . . . Did I tell
you how well I liked
STAINED GLASS
[
. . . I have had an enquiry from Mr. Jonathan about painted glass, and
have given him such information, as I could procure. The manufacture at York
seems to be the thing for your purpose, but the name of the Person I cannot
learn. He at Worcester sells it for two shillings a pound (for it is sold by
weight). I approve very well of the canopy work border on the sides of each
[
Dear Doctor — I am much obliged to you for your antique news:
[
I am so charmed with the two
Is there anything known of the
author or authors, and of what antiquity are they supposed to be? Is there
any more to be had of equal beauty, or at all approaching to it? I have been
often told that the Poem called
[
. . . The town are reading
The 7th volume of Buffon is come over: do you choose to have it?
THE ODES TO OBSCURITY AND OBLIVION
[
. . . I have sent
OSSIAN, THE TWO ODES, TRISTRAM SHANDY
[
. . . If you have seen Stonehewer he has probably told you
of my old Scotch (or rather Irish) poetry. I am gone mad about them. They are
said to be translations (literal and in prose) from the
You will think I am grown mighty poetical of a sudden; you would think so
still more, if you knew, there was a Satire printed against me and Mason
jointly. It is call'd
The writer is a Mr. Coleman, who publish'd the
If I did not mention Tristram to you, it was because
I thought I had done so before. There is much good fun in it, and humour
sometimes hit and sometimes mist. I agree with your opinion of it, and shall
see the two future volumes with pleasure. Have you read his Sermons (with his
own comic figure at the head of them)? They are in the style, I think, most
proper for the pulpit, and shew a very strong imagination and a sensible
heart: but you see him often tottering on the verge of laughter, and ready to
throw his periwig in the face of his audience. . . .
[
I too was reading
I have received another
Scotch packet with a third specimen, inferior in kind (because it is merely
description), but yet full of nature and noble wild imagination. Five Bards
pass the night at the Castle of a Chief (himself a principal Bard); each goes
out in his turn to observe the face of things, and returns with an extempore
picture of the changes he has seen; it is an October night (the harvest month
of the Highlands). This is the whole plan; yet there is a contrivance, and a
preparation of ideas, that you would not expect. The oddest thing is, that
every one of them
Did you never observe (
[
. . . The Erse Fragments have been published five
weeks ago in Scotland, though I had them not (by a mistake) till last week. As
you tell me new things do not soon reach you at Aston, I inclose what I can;
the rest shall follow when you tell me whether you have not got it already. I
send the two which I had before, for Mr. Wood, because he has not the
affectation of not admiring. I continue to think them genuine, though my
reasons for believing the contrary are rather stronger than ever: but I will
have them antique, for I never knew a Scotchman of my own time that could
read, much less write, poetry; and such poetry too! I have one (from
Mr. Macpherson) which he has not printed: it is mere description, but
excellent, too, in its kind. If you are good, and will learn to admire, I will
transcribe it. Pray send to Sheffield for the last
"Certain it is that these poems are in
everybody's mouth in the Highlands — have been handed down from father to
son — and are of an age beyond all memory and tradition. Adam Smith, the
celebrated Professor in Glasgow, told me that the piper of the Argyleshire
militia repeated to him all those which Mr. Macpherson has translated, and
many more of equal beauty. Major Mackay (Lord Rae's brother) told me that he
remembers them perfectly well; as likewise did the Laird of Macfarline (the
greatest antiquarian we have in this country), and who insists strongly on the
historical truth, as well as the poetical beauty, of these productions. I
could add the Laird and Lady Macleod, with many more that live in different
parts of the Highlands, very remote from each other, and could only be
acquainted with what had become (in a manner) national works. There is a
country-surgeon in Lochaber, who has by heart the entire epic poem mentioned
by Mr. Macpherson in his Preface, and, as he is old, is perhaps the only
person living that knows it all, and has
I forgot to mention to you that the names of Fingal, Ossian, Oscar, &c., are still given in the Highlands to large mastiffs, as we give to ours the names of Caesar, Pompey, Hector, &c.
[
. . . Have you seen the Erse Fragments since they were printed? I am more puzzled than ever about their antiquity, though I still incline (against everybody's opinion) to believe them old. Those you have already seen are the best; though there are some others that are excellent too.
OSSIAN, GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE
[
. . . What do you think of the Erse
Poems now they are come out? I suppose your suspicions are augmented: yet
(upon some further
I beg leave to differ as to the era of Gothic perfection. There is
nothing finer than
[
. . . There is a
second edition of the Scotch Fragments, yet very few admire them, and almost
all take them for fictions. I have a letter from D. Hume, the Historian, that
asserts them to be genuine, and cites the names of several people (that know
both languages) who have heard them current in the mouths of Pipers and other
illiterate persons in various and distant parts of the Highlands. There is a
subscription for Mr. Macpherson, which will enable him to undertake a mission
among the Mountaineers, and pick up all the scattered remnants of old
poetry. He is certainly an admirable Judge; if his
MASON'S ELEGY ON LADY COVENTRY
[
Dear Mason — It is not good to give copies of a thing before you
have given it the last hand.
"Ah, mark," is rather languid. I would read "Heard ye."
V. 3. I read, "and now with rising knell," to avoid two "the's."
V. 10. I read, "since now that bloom," &c.
V. 11, 12, are altered for the better, and so are the following; but for
"liquid
V. 18. Read, "that o'er her form," &c.
V. 23. "Cease, cease, luxuriant muse." Though mended, it is still weakly. I do not much care for any muse at all here.
V. 26. "Mould'ring" is better than "clay-cold"; somewhat else might be better perhaps than either.
V. 35. "Whirl you in her wild career." This image does not come in so well
here between two real happinesses. The word "lead " before
"Of her choicest stores an ampler share," seems to me prosaic.
"Zenith-height" is harsh to the ear and too scientific.
I take it the interrogation point comes after "fresh delight"; and there the sense ends. If so, the question is too long in asking, and leaves a sort of obscurity.
V. 46. I understand, but cannot read,
V. 55. "Rouse, then — his voice pursue." I do not like this broken line.
V. 74. "Firm as the sons," that is, "as firmly as." The adjective used for the adverb here gives it some obscurity, and has the appearance of a contradiction.
V. 76.
V. 80. This, though
V. 89. "Is it the grasp?" You will call me a coxcomb if I remind you, that this stanza in the turn of it is too like a stanza of "another body's."
V. 98.
V. 102. We say the juice of the grape "mantles," but not the grape.
V. 107. "By earth's poor pittance"; will not do; the end is very well, but
the whole is rather too long, and I would wish it reduced a little in the
latter part. . . .
[
I cannot pity you;
I have long thought of reading Jeremy Taylor, for I am persuaded that chopping logic in the pulpit, as our divines have done ever since the Revolution, is not the thing; but that imagination and warmth of expression are in their place there as much as on the stage, moderated however, and chastised a little by the purity and severity of religion. . . .
GOTHIC DESIGN
[
Dear Doctor — I am just come to Town, where I shall stay
six weeks or more, and (if you will send your dimensions) will look out for
papers at the shops. I own I never yet saw any Gothic papers to my
fancy. There is one fault, that is in the nature of the thing, and cannot be
avoided. The great beauty of all Gothic designs is the variety of perspectives
they occasion. This a Painter may represent on the walls of a room in some
measure; but not a Designer of Papers,
FINGAL
[
. . . The Heloïse cruelly disappointed me, but it
has its partisans, among which are Mason and Mr. Hurd. For me, I admire
nothing but Fingal (I conclude you have read it: if not Stonehewer can lend
it to you), yet I remain still in doubt about the authenticity of those poems,
though inclining rather to believe them genuine in spite of the World. Whether
they are the inventions of antiquity, or of a modern Scotchman,
WHITEHEAD'S WORKS, ETC.
[
The laureate
has honoured me (as a friend of yours, for I know no other reason) with
MASON'S ELEGY ON LADY COVENTRY
[
. . . We have received
your poetical packet and delivered them to the several parties. The sentiments
we do not remark, as we can find nothing within ourselves congenial to them:
for the expression, we hint (but in a low, timid voice) that there is a want
of strength and spirit; in short, they are nothing like the choruses in
THE CHAPEL OF ST. SEPULCHRE, YORK
[
Dear Sir — I send you with this a drawing of the ruin you were so
much pleased with when you saw it at York. I take it certainly to have been
Archbishop Roger himself, in his
The last and only further account I can find of the situation is from the same Life, where it is said the canons of St. Peter, "graviter murmurabant super situ dictae capellae eo quod nimis adhaesit matrici ecclesiae."
This I think need not be translated literally; the word "nimis" leads one to a metaphorical sense. The priests of St. Sepulchre were too near neighbours to St. Peter's canons, and were troublesome to them; accordingly we find the archbishop, to quiet matters, ordered that the saint of his chapel should make them a recompense, which is in this extract stated.
To these arguments I would add,
that Archbishop Roger's donation was very great (as we find in Drake) to this
chapel; and from the number of persons maintained in its service, I question
not but there was a large convent built round it, of which there are plainly
the foundations still to be seen; and what puts the matter out of all doubt
that this building was separate and entire, though indeed near to the minster,
is the following fact, viz. that the tithes of the chapel and chapel itself
were sold to one Webster, anno 42 Elizabeth: "Capella vocat. St. Sepulcre's
Chapell prope Eccles. Cath. Ebor. cum
[
I am obliged to you for your drawing,
and very learned dissertation annexed. You have made out your point with a
great degree of probability (for though the "nimis adhaesit" might startle
one, yet the sale of the tithes and chapel to Webster seems to set all right
again), and I do believe the building in question was the chapel of
St. Sepulchre; but then that the ruin now standing was mo
Hen. III.); and in this reign it was that the beauty of the Gothic
architecture began to appear. The
All the buildings of Henry the Second's time (under whom
Roger lived, and died, 1181) are of a clumsy and heavy proportion, with a few
rude and awkward ornaments; and this style continues to the beginning of
Henry the Third's reign, though with a little improvement, as in the nave
MASON, OSSIAN, ETC.
[
You will make my best acknowledgments to
I
I am equally pleased with the just applause he bestows on Mr. Mason,
and particularly on his
Neither Count Algarotti, nor Mr. Howe (I believe) have heard of
[
. . . I
doubt you have not read Rousseau's
THE ARTS IN ENGLAND AND ITALY
[
Sir — I
received some time since the unexpected honour of a Letter from you, and the
I see with great satisfaction your
efforts to re-unite the congenial arts of poetry, music, and the dance, which
with the assistance of painting and architecture, regulated by taste, and
supported by magnificence and power, might form the noblest scene, and bestow
the sublimest pleasure, that the imagination can conceive. But who shall
realise these delightful visions? There is, I own,
One cause, that so long has hindered, and (I
I cannot help telling you, that eight or ten years
ago, I was a witness to the power of your comic music. — There was a
little troop of Buffi, that exhibited a Burletta in London, not in the Opera
House, where the audience is chiefly of the better sort, but on one of the
common Theatres full of all kinds of people and (I believe) the fuller from
that natural aversion we bear to foreigners: their looks and their noise made
it evident, they did not come thither to hear; and on similar occasions I have
known candles lighted, broken bottles, and pen knives flung on the stage, the
benches torn up, the scenes hurried into the street and set on fire. The
curtain drew up, the music was of
Why this nation has made no advances hitherto in painting and
sculpture is hard to say. The fact is undeniable, and we have the vanity to
apologise for ourselves, as Virgil did for the Romans,
I owe to Mr. How the honour I have of conversing with Count Algarotti, and it seems as if I meant to indulge myself in the opportunity: but I have done. Sir, I will only add, that I am proud of your approbation, having no relish for any other fame than what is conferred by the few real judges, that are so thinly scattered over the face of the earth. I am, Sir, with great respect, your most obliged humble Servant,
Ciambellan di S. M. il Ré di Prussia, &c. &c.
Italia, Bolognia.
[
Sir — I ought long since to have made you my acknowledgments for the
obliging testimonies
r, your obliged humble Servant,
ALGAROTTI, PERGOLESI, ETC.
[
Dear Mason — As I have no more received my little thing than you have
yours, though they were sent by the
I like
"So, to deceive my solitary days," &c.
There are an expression or two that
I have got
[
. . . I saw and read the beginning of this year, the
I am glad to hear, he thinks of revisiting
England; though I am a little ashamed of my country at this present. Our late
acquired glory does not set becomingly upon us; and even the Author of it,
that
[
. . . Two more volumes of Buffon are come over: I mention them in case you choose to have them. I know of nothing else, except half a dozen new works of that inexhaustible, eternal, entertaining scribbler Voltaire, who at last (I fear) will go to heaven, for to him entirely it is owing, that the king of France and his council have review'd and set aside the decision of the parliament of Thoulouse in the affair of Calas. The poor man, 'tis true, has been broke on the wheel long ago; but his widow and wretched family may have some reparation, and his murtherers may smart a little for it. You see a scribbler may be of some use in the world! . . .
[
. . . I
read and liked
[
I have received the
When
your pen was in your hand you might have been a little more communicative, for
though disposed enough to believe the opposition rather consumptive, I am
entirely ignorant of all the symptoms. Your canonical book I have been reading
with great satisfaction. He speaketh as one having authority. If Englishmen
have any feeling left, methinks they must feel now; and if the Ministry have
any feeling (whom nobody will suspect of insensibility) they must cut off the
author's ears, for it is in all the forms a most wicked libel. Is the old man
and the lawyer put on, or is it real? or has some real lawyer furnished a
good part of the materials, and another person employed them? This I guess;
for there is an uncouthness of diction in
AN ITINERARY OF FRANCE AND ITALY
[
My instructions, of which you are so desirous, are twofold: the first part relates to what is past, and that will be rather diffuse: the second, to what is to come; and that we shall treat more succinctly, and with all due brevity.
First, when you come to
Paris you will not fail to visit the cloister of the Chartreuse, where Le
Pray, present my most respectful compliments
A SONNET BY MASON
[
. . . I hope in God
[
To the Rev.
Concludes he has laid aside his intention of publishing the first four sections of his Introduction, that contain the settlement and progress of Christianity among the Saxons; as (however curious and instructive of themselves) they certainly have too slight a connection with the subject in hand to make a part of the present work.
Has received much entertainment and information from his remarks on the state of Architecture among the Saxons, and thinks he has proved his point against the authority of Stow and Somner. The words of Eddius, Richard of Hexham, &c., must be everywhere cited in the original tongue, as the most accurate translation is in these cases not to be trusted; this Mr. B. has indeed commonly done in the MSS., but not everywhere.
P. 31. He says, the instances Sir C. Wren brings, were,
There is much probability in what he asserts with respect to the
P. 35. Here, where the Author is giving a compendious view of the peculiarities that distinguish the Saxon style, it might be mentioned, that they had no tabernacles (or niches and canopies), nor any statues to adorn their buildings on the outside, which are the principal grace of what is called Gothic; the only exception that I can recollect, is a little figure of Bishop Herebert Losing over the north transept door at Norwich, which appears to be of that time: but this is rather a mezzo-relievo than a statue, and it is well known that they used reliefs sometimes with profusion, as in the Saxon gateway of the Abbey at Bury, the gate of the Temple Church at London, and the two gates at Ely, &c.
The want of pinnacles and of tracery in the vaults, are afterwards mentioned, but may as well be placed here too (in short) among the other characteristics.
Escutcheons of arms are hardly (if ever) seen
P. 34. Besides the chevron-work (or zig-zag moulding), so common, which is here mentioned, there is also,
The
The
The
Then to adorn their vast massive columns there was the
These few things are mentioned only, because Mr. Bentham's work is so
nearly complete in this part, that one would wish it were quite so. His own
observation may doubtless suggest to him many more peculiarities, which,
however minute in appearance, are not contemptible, because
P. 36. At York, under the choir, remains much of the old work, built by Archbishop Roger, of Bishop's-bridge, in Henry IId's reign; the arches are but just pointed, and rise on short round pillars, whose capitals are adorned with animals and foliage.
P. 37. Possibly the pointed arch might take its rise from those arcades we see in the early Norman (or Saxon) buildings on walls, where the wide semi-circular arches cross and intersect each other, and form thereby at their intersection exactly a narrow and sharp-pointed arch. In the wall south of the choir at St. Cross, is a facing of such wide, round, interlaced arches by way of ornament to a flat vacant space; only so much of it as lies between the legs of the two neighbouring arches, where they cross each other, is pierced through the fabric, and forms a little range of long pointed windows. It is of King Stephen's time.
P. 43. As Mr. B. has thought it proper to make a compliment to the
Mr. G. would wish to be told (at Mr. Bentham's leisure) whether over the great pointed arches, on which the western tower at Ely rises, anything like a semicircular curve appears in the stone work? And whether the screen (or rood-loft) with some part of the south-cross, may not possibly be a part of the more ancient church built by Abbot Simeon and Fitz-Gilbert.
AN EPITAPH BY MASON
[
Dear Mason — I come forthwith to
. . . I exceedingly approve the epitaph in its
present shape. Even what I best liked before is altered for the better. The
various readings I do not mind, only, perhaps, I should read the 2d line:
for I hate "sentiment" in verse. I will say nothing to "taste" and "truth,"
for perhaps the Archbishop may fancy they are fine things; but, to my palate,
they are wormwood. All the rest is just as it should be, and what he ought to
admire. . . .
BEATTIE, FERGUSON'S ESSAY
[
I received from Mr. Williamson, that
very obliging mark you were pleased to give me of your remembrance. Had I not
entertained some slight hopes of revisiting Scotland this summer, and
consequently of seeing you at Aberdeen, I had sooner acknowledged, by letter,
the favour you have done me. Those hopes are now at an end; but I do not
therefore despair of seeing again a country that has given me so much
pleasure;
You see, Sir, I take the liberty you indulged me in when I first saw you; and therefore I make no excuses for it, but desire you would take your revenge on me in kind.
I have read over (but too hastily)
[
. . . I have read, with much pleasure, an Ode of yours (in which you have done me the honour to adopt a measure that I have used) on Lord Hay's birth-day. Though I do not love panegyric, I cannot but applaud this, for there is nothing mean in it. The diction is easy and noble, the texture of the thoughts lyric, and the versification harmonious. The few expressions I object to are . . . These, indeed, are minutiae; but they weigh for something, as half a grain makes a difference in the value of a diamond.
ALGAROTTI'S WORKS
[
Sir — You perceive by
Mr. Brown's letter, that I passed all the summer in the North of England, went
from thence to London, and did not arrive here till the middle of December,
where I found your parcel. Since that time I have been generally confined to
my room, and
I rather think these volumes should be handsomely
WALPOLE'S HISTORIC DOUBTS
[
I received
My own objections are little more essential: they relate chiefly to inaccuracies of style, which either debase the expression or obscure the meaning. I could point out several small particulars of this kind, and will do so, if you think it can serve any purpose after publication. When I hear you read, they often escape me, partly because I am attending to the subject, and partly because from habit I understand you where a stranger might often be at a loss.
As to
your arguments, most of the principal parts are made out with a clearness and
evidence that no one would expect, where materials are so scarce. Yet I still
suspect Richard of the murder of Henry VI. The chronicler of Croyland charges
it full on him, though without a name or any
That the Duchess of Burgundy,
to try the temper of the nation, should set up a false Pretender to the Throne
(when she had the true Duke of York in her hands), and that the queen-mother
(knowing her son was alive) should countenance that design, is a piece of
policy utterly incomprehensible; being the most likely means to ruin their
own scheme, and throw a just suspicion of fraud and falsehood on the cause of
truth, which Henry could not fail to seize and turn to his
advantage. Mr. Hume's first query,as far as relates to the queen-mother, will
still have some weight. Is it probable she should give her eldest daughter to
Henry, and invite him to claim the crown,
Another unaccountable thing is, that
Richard, a prince of the House of York, undoubtedly brave, clear-sighted,
artful, attentive to business; of boundless generosity, as appears from his
grants; just and merciful, as his laws and his pardons seem to testify; having
subdued the Queen and her hated faction, and been called first to the
protectorship and then to the crown by the nobility and by the parliament;
with the common people to friend (as Carte often asserts), and having nothing
against him but the illegitimate family of his brother Edward, and the
attainted House of Clarence (both of them within his power); — that such
a man should see within a few months Buckingham, his best friend, and
I take this opportunity to tell you, that Algarotti (as I see in the new
edition of his works printed at Leghorn) being employed to buy pictures for
the King of Poland, purchased among others the famous Holbein that was at
Venice. It don't appear that he knew anything of your book: yet he calls it
Pray do not be out of
humour. When you first commenced an author, you exposed yourself to pit,
boxes, and gallery. Any coxcomb in the world may come in and hiss if he
pleases; ay, and (what is almost as bad) clap too, and you cannot hinder
him. I saw a little squib fired at you in a newspaper by some of the
[
. . . I have looked into
Here is
The title-page will probably suffice you; but if you
would know any more of him, he has read nothing but the common chronicles, and
those without attention; for example, speaking of Anne the queen, he says, she
was barren, of which Richard had often complained to Rotheram. He extenuates
the murder of Henry VI. and his son: the first, he says, might be a malicious
insinuation, for that many did suppose he died of mere melancholy and grief:
the latter cannot be proved to be the action of Richard (though executed in
his presence); and if it were, he did it out of love to his brother Edward. He
justifies the death of the Lords at Pomfret, from reasons of state, for his
own preservation, the safety of the commonwealth, and the ancient
nobility. The execution of Hastings he excuses from necessity, from the
dishonesty and sensuality of the man:
I have looked in Stowe; to be sure there is no proclamation there. Mr.
Hume, I suppose, means
It is not I that talk of
THE CHARACTER OF A PHILOSOPHER
[
Never did I feel, my dear Bonstetten, to what a tedious length the few
short moments of our life may be extended by impatience and expectation, till
you had left me; nor ever knew before with so strong a conviction how much
this frail body sympathizes with the inquietude of the
If you have ever met with the
portrait sketched out by Plato, you will know it again: for my part, to my
sorrow I have had that happiness. I see the principal features, and I foresee
the dangers with a trembling anxiety. But enough of this, I return to your
letter. It proves at least, that in the midst of your new gaieties I still
hold some place in your memory, and, what pleases me above all, it has an air
of undissembled sincerity. Go on, my best and amiable friend, to
ISOCRATES
[
. . . It would be strange if I
should blame you for reading Isocrates: I did so myself twenty years ago, and
in an edition at least as bad as yours.
THE MINSTREL
[
I rejoice to hear that you are restored to a better state of
health, to your books, and to your
I will not enter at present into the merits of your
FROISSART, ETC.
[
. . . I rejoice you have met with Froissart: he is
the Herodotus of a barbarous age: had he but had the luck of writing in as
good a language, he might have been immortal! His locomotive disposition (for
then there was no other way of learning things), his simple curiosity, his
religious credulity, were much like those of the old Grecian. Our ancestors
used to read the
THE MINSTREL
[
I think we should wholly adopt the
language of Spenser's time or wholly renounce it. You say, you have done the
latter; but, in effect, you retain
St. 2, v. 5. The
St. 3, v. 6.
St. 4, and ult.
St. 7.
St. 8, 9, 10. All this thought is well and freely handled, particularly,
St. 11.
St. 12. Very well.
St. 13.
St. 18.
St. 21.
In
St. 34. I believe I took notice before of this
St. 36, 37, 38. Sure you go
too far in lengthening a stroke of Edwin's character and disposition into a
direct narrative, as of a fact. In the meantime, the poem stands still, and
the reader grows impatient. Do you not, in general, indulge a little too much
in
St. 42. Spite of what I have just now said, this digression pleases me so well, that I cannot spare it.
St. 46, v. ult. The
St. 49, 50, 51, 52. All this is very good; but
St. 53.
St. 54.
St. 56, v. 5.
St. 57, 58. Very pleasing, and has much the rhythm and expression of Milton in his youth. The last four lines strike me less by far.
St. 59. The first five lines charming. Might not the mind of your conqueror
be checked and softened in the mid-career of his successes by some domestic
misfortune (introduced by way of episode, interesting and new, but not too
long), that Edwin's music and its triumphs may be a little prepared, and more
consistent
I am happy to hear of your successes in another way, because I think you
are serving the cause of human nature, and the true interest of mankind. Your
book is read here too, and with just applause.
Panaetius the stoick: a philosopher
of Rhodes (
[Greek (omitted)], etc.: "a certain
marvelous mixture of pleasure and of pain."
[Greek (omitted)], etc.: "in
life is the beginning of death"; the second clause repeats the thought.
[Greek (omitted)], etc.: "some things
I have said of which I am not altogether confident." Trans. Jowett.
Dacier: André Dacier
(1651-1722), an industrious classical scholar, translator of Horace, Longinus,
some of Plato's
Lord Bolingbroke: Henry St. John,
Viscount Bolingbroke (1678-1751), was a statesman, orator, and voluminous
author. For some years he lived in France, and his thought, that of a
pronounced Deist, may have been influenced by Voltaire. He has been censured
for a lack of sincerity and honest purpose and for an unscrupulous ambition.
His philosophical views can scarcely be called profound.
Dr. Clarke: Samuel Clarke
(1675-1729), theological
Evid. 26th: this corresponds,
apparently, to Proposition VIII. of
Mr. Wollaston: William
Wollaston (1660-1724), of Sidney-Sussex College, Cambridge (M.A. 1681), who,
inheriting a cousin's "noble estate," settled in London in 1689 and never
afterward passed a night out of his house. He wrote much on philological and
ecclesiastical subjects.
immovable: G. immoveable.
characteristics: G., like others
of his time, spelled this and most other Norman: the earliest instance of the word in this sense in the
Sir Christopher Wren: lived
1632-1723. Besides St. Paul's he designed about fifty churches in London,
the Sheldonian Theatre at Oxford, the Greenwich Observatory, the Chelsea
Hospital, the Library of Trinity College, Cambridge, the
Saxon: more properly applied to the style in vogue in
England before the Conquest. For the characteristics of Saxon architecture
proper, see
emperors: G. emperours.
Normans: settled in France
early in the tenth century; acquired Normandy about 911.
this kind of architecture:
Rickman (
aisles: G. here and elsewhere,
ailes.
old St. Paul's: burnt in the
great fire of 1666; rebuilt by Sir Christopher Wren 1675-1710.
nebule: the earliest instance
of this word in the
King Ethelbald: king of the
Mercians, d. 757. Visited his kinsman the hermit Guthlac at Crowland. Though
of immoral life, he gave much to the Church.
King Osric: Gray has apparently
here made a slip. He is thinking of the shrine of Osric, king of the
Northumbrians (d. 729), erected at Gloucester (on the north side of the
presbytery) by Abbot Malvern in the time of Henry VIII. Osric is said to have
founded the first religious establishment here. Cf. H. J. Massé,
Robert Courthose: Duke of
Normandy (1054-1134), eldest son of the Conqueror. Called Curthose on account
of his short, fat figure. The chest, of the fifteenth century, is of Irish
bog-wood; the figure may be of the 12th. The effigy was demolished by
the Puritans in 1641, but the pieces were kept by Sir Humphrey Tracy of
Stanway and after the Restoration replaced at his expense.
five and thirty years: the
choir and transepts, as well as the three stages of the central tower and the
six central bays of the nave except the clerestory, were probably finished
1155-75. The clerestory of the nave, the west bays of the nave, and the west
front were probably built 1177-93. Cf. Bond,
surpassed in beauty: G., it
thus appears, was one of the earliest admirers of Gothic. On the use of
"Gothic" for what was crude and barbaric, cf. G. Lüdtke,
Mr. Urry: John Urry (1666-1715),
of Christ Church, Oxford, in 1711 began work upon an edition which was
published in 1721. As a scholar Urry was much overrated. Cf. Miss Hammond's
great inequalities: cf. Gray's
note on Lydgate's metre, p. 94, n. 1.
Francesco [da] Barberino: lived
1264-1348; wrote, among other things, Boccaccio: G. here and elsewhere, Boccacio.
Crescimbeni: Giovan-Maria
Crescimbeni (1663-1728) became a well-known Roman poet and savant; wrote
several works on literary history. His always prefixed: usually, but not
always; cf. Sievers,
Dr. Hickes: George Hickes
(1642-1715), titular bishop of Thetford, published his
Somner's: William Somner
(1598-1669), linguist and antiquarian, published his
towards the end:
in another place:
Chronicle of Troy: Dr. Henry
Bergen is printing an edition of the
Cimbrick tongue: Cymric properly,
of course, means "Welsh"; in Gray's time there was much confusion between
Scandinavian and Celtic. Cf. p. 239. See also Farley,
greipan:
O. E.
wordis: Northern dialect form
of O. E.
Art of Poetry: published
anonymously in 1589, by Richard Field, "dwelling in the black-Friers, neere
Ludgate."
"Chaucer, Lydgate," etc.: a
collation with Arber's reprint shows only slight variants: 23, these
riding Rhyme: G. Ryme. "This
term was applied to '10-syllable couplets' like those of Chaucer's Canterbury
Pilgrims, as distinguished from statelier quatrains and stanzas. For long
such couplets were considered unfit for serious themes — an idea in
Gray's time hardly comprehensible, though he himself wisely preferred
quatrains for his famous
Ryme Dogrell: the obvious
connection with
Alderman Fabian: Robert Fabyan
(d. 1513); his
Then Puttenham: this quotation
really occurs about a page farther back in the same chapter.
in the middle: inexactly quoted.
Arber: In a verse of twelve sillables the
of pleasure: here Gray
omits five and a half lines of Puttenham; cf. Arber, p. 86.
Spenser: on his use of the
caesura cf. Schipper,
Milton: cf. W. Thomas,
A monke ther was: Ellesmere Ms.,
A monk ther was, a fair for the maistrie.
many a: Ellesmere Ms., fful many
a.
No more of this:
Bevis: ed. by Kölbing,
E. E. T. S., Extra Series, 1885-94. Cf. M. Deutschbein, Southampton: after this Puttenham adds: Guy of Warwicke.
the same Story: cf. Leo Jordan,
and historical: Arber's ed., or.
on purpose: Arber's ed.,
purposely for recreation.
bride-ales: after this Arber's
ed. has and.
The Death of Zoroas: by
Nicholas Grimald; Arber reprint, pp. 120-3.
The Death of Cicero: also by
Grimald; Arber repr., pp. 123-5.
Man of Honour: now called the
Man of Law.
Flower and Leaf: ascribed by
Skeat (
Assembly of Ladies:
determined by internal evidence to be by the author of
Complaint of the Black Knight:
by John Lydgate.
Lamentation of Magdalen: ed.
by Bertha M. Skeat as a Zürich diss., Cambridge, 1897. She thinks the
author was a young lady, probably a nun.
To this list add Chaucer's
Remedy of Love: formerly
printed with Chaucer's works; rejected from the Chaucer canon by
Tyrwhitt. Cf. Skeat,
Epistle to Henry the 4th: often
called
Ballade of our Lady: in
MacCracken's list (
Ballades, &c.: including
the Assemblé de Dyeus:
Gray does not know, for example, of Lydgate's
Hymn on the Nativity: the part
properly known as the Hymn is not in this metre.
in some Envoys: now, I believe,
no longer ascribed to Chaucer.
Belle Dame sans mercy: trans.
from the French by Sir Richard Ros (
Some Poems of Chaucer: Gray
probably alludes to Hoccleve's
Cuckoo and Nightingale: probably
by Sir Thomas Clanvowe; cf. Miss Hammond's
Story of Thebes: in heroic
couplets.
Romaunce of Merlin: ed. as
Welsh: G. here and
elsewhere, Welch.
wherein he mentions: ll. 85-89.
Manning's trans. was ed. by Furnivall in the Rolls Series, No. 87, London,
1887. different kinds of verse: on the varieties of rhyme see Schipper,
"Fremde Metra," Paul's
Plowman's Tale: no longer
ascribed to Chaucer; cf. Miss Hammond,
Couwe: in Manning ryme couwee,
"tailed rhyme." Though his etymology is wrong, Gray is right about
The Life of St. Margaret: printed
by Hickes,
Chronicle of Robert of
Gloucester: really combines alexandrines with septenaries in what
Gascoigne called "poulter's measure"; cf. Gummere, Peter Langtoft's Chronicle: Manning's translation
is in octosyllabic couplets; cf. Oskar Boerner,
took its name: the origin is
still obscure; cf. the
Lambert li Cors: should be li
Tors, Alexandre de Paris: Alexandre de Bernay.
trest: a better reading is
Tale of Gamelin: no longer
ascribed to Chaucer.
thus is written: cf.
the note to 53, 10, above.
Semi-Saxon moral poem: the
Gill Morrice: Glasgerion: in
Child's Launcelot du Lake: in Percy's
Pseudo-rhythmus: rhyme.
has observed: in his essay
Taliessin: now regarded as
mythical, cf. 61, 10; formerly reputed to be the
author of 77 poems; cf. Skene, Benbeirdh: properly Benbeirdd, an epithet meaning "chief of bards."
The only poets to whom it was applied were Aneurin and Taliesin (cf. T.
Stephens,
Lomarkk: Llywarch Hen, "the Aged"
(
the Anglo-Saxons: on rhyme in
O. E. literature cf. Kluge, "Zur Geschichte des Reimes im Altgermanischen,"
Paul-Braune,
any rhyming verses: Gray had of
course never seen the O. E.
Wormius: Ole Worm (1588-1654),
professor successively of pedagogy, Greek, physics, and medicine at Copenhagen
(1613-54).
sometimes strictly: the laws of
O. E. metre are now much better understood: cf. Schipper,
fragment of Caedmon: Caedmon's
Harmony of the Evangelists: Ms.
Cotton Caligula A vii, fol. 11 r. — 175 v. Now called Paraphrase of the Gospels:
dedicated about 865 to King Louis the German and to Abp. Liutbert of Mentz.
There are now many editions. On Otfrid's metre see Sievers, "Die Entstehung
des deutschen Reimverses," Paul-Braune,
Franco-Theotische and
Anglo-Saxon: not identical, but kindred dialects; cf. Paul's
no verses extant: the
Wistace: now generally called
Wace. His
the Provencal writers: see
Stimming, in Gröber's
Gothic: we should now say
eches: probably for
Ic am elder:
Rada: O. L. G.
Vision of Peirce Plowman: edited
by Skeat, E. E. T. S., 1867-84, and for the Clarendon Press, 1886. On the
metre see K. Luick, "Geschichte der heimische Metra," Paul's
the oaths: sworn on Feb. 14,
842; see Brachet-Toynbee,
The Provencal: see
Darmesteter-Hartog,
Robert Langland: modern
scholars until very recently have spoken of this author as William Langland.
Professor Manly has lately (
for instance: the lines quoted
correspond to B. ii. 7-13.
Worthylich: Mathias and the
others print Worthlyith.
altogether in meter: on
Langland's metre see Skeat, ed. of 1886, ii. lviii ff.; F. Rosenthal,
Death and Life: this and
Thomas Piercy: 1728-82, bishop
of Dromore, editor of the
P. Huet: Pierre-Daniel Huet
(1630-1721), bishop of Avranches, member of the French Academy, well reputed
as a mathematician, philosopher, theologian, philologist, and writer of Latin
and Greek verse. He likewise ascribed the beginnings of romance to the Arabs.
De Contemptu Mundi: contains
about 3000 lines; translated by J. M. Neale, 1851-62.
Bernard: abbot of Cluny
1122-56. G. Benard.
Leonine: the
Ubaldino the Florentine: cf. the
quotation 64, 18 ff.
Tenure of the manor of Cholmerand
Dancing: printed in Thomas Blount's Cholmer: Blount has
Chelmer. Dancing: now called Dengy.
Paperking: Blount has
Peperking.
Ancient Tenures, p. 102: in the
ed. of 1784, pp. 329 f. 21 lines.
about the age of Henry the
Third: Layamon's
Lazamon: the
At Sifforde seten: from
near Oxford: rather the Seaford
near Newhaven, on the south coast of Sussex; cf. Skeat's note.
the same manuscript volume:
Cotton Caligula A ix. Of this, the
"The Contention of the Owl and
Nightingale": the latest edition is that of John E. Wells (Boston, 1907),
who dates the poem 1216-25.
seven syllables: rather eight
or nine. The metre is octosyllabic, with or without a final unstressed
syllable. Of the 1794 lines, from 195 to 200 lack the initial unstressed
syllable.
snwe: Ms.
I herde: Ms.
plait: "debate." stare:
Gray is right; it should be
other agen other: Ms. Cotton
Calig. A ix has aiper azen oper.
whole mod: Ms. Cott. wole; Ms.
Jesus Coll. vuele, "evil."
cust: "character."
hure and hure: "at all events."
On Death, etc.: this is the
poem
Non: Ms. Jesus Coll. 29 reads
biwench:
told by Ekkehardus: in his
Ethelbert, King of Kent: lived
552-616. His epitaph is:
Quoted by Thomas of Elmham,
Laurentius: d. 619. His
epitaph:
Quoted by Thomas of Elmham,
by Weever: John Weever
(1576-1632) of Queen's College, Cambridge. His
from Walen:
Lewis Morris: lived 1700-65.
His
no rhyme: cf.
the note to 58, 1.
from their neighbours the
Britons: this view it now abandoned.
Athelstan's donation: this
so-called charter, which
granted to Earl Leofric: Gray
apparently means
Dugdale,
in 1393: for the evidence cf.
Schick's ed. of
Hatfield-Brodhook: now
Hatfield-Broadoak, or Hatfield Regis.
King Arthur was not dead: this
idea survived even Gray's own time by at least a century. Cf. Sir J. Rhys,
Dares Phrygius: a Trojan priest
mentioned by Homer (
Gowere: cf. Chaucer's
dedication of
Richard Hermite: Richard
Rolle de Hampole (
from the original Latin: on
this subject see Emil Koeppel's Munich dissertation,
Machabrees Daunce of Death: the
"long processes": some of
Shakespeare's comic characters,
the father of circumstance: for
a recent comprehensive criticism of Homer's style see Croiset-Heffelbower,
our ancient poets so voluminous:
MacCracken (
owe their first formation: this
is true, of course, only of the literary speech.
the nearest to him: Bale says
of Lydgate, in his
the fragment of Simonides:
the
upon the women: cf. his
fellows of colleges: Gray
here hits at the scandal-mongers of his own university.
more frequent in Chaucer:
cf. the portrait of the Monk in the Prologue.
cheerfulness: G.
chearfulness.
Doctor Machabrée:
an amusing mistake of Gray's time; cf. the note
on 91, 16.
Like a Midsomer Rose:
also printed by Halliwell-Phillipps,
eight poets: besides Sackville
other contributors were William Baldwin, George Ferrers, Cavyll, Thomas Phaer,
the translator of Virgil, John Skelton, Dolman, Thomas Churchyard, John
Higgins, Thomas Blennerhasset, Michael Drayton, Richard Niccols, Francis
Segar, and Dingley. Editions appeared in 1559 (ed. by Baldwin), 1563, 1571,
1574 (ed. by Higgins), 1575 (reissue of Higgins's "First Parte"), 1578 ("The
Second Parte," expanded by Blennerhasset), 1587 (ed. by Thomas Newton), 1610
(ed. by Niccols), 1619 (re-issue of the ed. of 1610), and 1815 (ed. by Joseph
Haslewood).
Where is now: on the
his youth was passed: Daniel
lived from 1562 till 1619. Besides his prose
a pedantic admiration: this
is perhaps as severe an arraignment of the tendency toward classicism as we
meet with anywhere in Gray's writings.
the expectations Spenser had
raised:
The "well tuned song" is
Marino: Giambattista Marino
or Marini (1569-1625). His inflated style became known by the name of
Seneca for a model: in his
Richard West: born in 1716,
the son of Richard West, playwright and Lord Justice of Ireland, and grandson
of Bishop Burnet. At Eton he was one of the "Quadruple Alliance" with Ashton,
Gray, and Walpole, and was called Favonius. He was at Christ Church, Oxford,
1735-8, then began to read law at the Inner Temple, but afterward thought of
going into the army; ill health prevented him and he died of consumption on
June 1, 1742.
Lord Waldegrave's: James,
first Earl Waldegrave (1685-1741), succeeded Sir Horatio Walpole as ambassador
and minister-plenipotentiary at Paris in 1730.
four acts: "The French opera
has only three acts, but often a prologue on a different subject, which (as
Mr. Walpole informs me, who saw it at the same time) was the case in this
very representation." Mason.
the story of Nireus: the
handsomest of the Greeks at Troy; slain by Æneas or Eurypylus
(
Baucis and Philemon: Ovid,
Iphis and Ianthe: Ovid,
Farinelli: "Carlo Broschi
(probably took the name Farinclli from his uncle the composer) was in England
during the years 1734, 1735, and 1736. Gray had no doubt heard him. He is
depicted singing at the lady's
Mahomet Second: by
Jean-Baptiste Sauvé, dit dela Noue (1701-60), an actor and
dramatist. It had great success.
Mademoiselle Gaussin:
Jeanne-Catherine Gaussem, called Gaussin (1711-67); her success dates from
her appearance in the rôle of Zaïre on August 13, 1732. Voltaire
was captivated by her acting.
Dufrêne: Abraham-Alexis
Quinault-Dufresne (1690-1767) made his first appearance on the stage at the
Comédie Française in 1712. "He was especially famous in the
character of le Glorieux, in the comedy of that name by Destouches." Tovey.
On his retirement he received a pension of a thousand livres.
the Philosophe marié:
by Philippe Nericault Destouches (1680-1754); it was based on an incident in
his own life.
Mademoiselle Quinault:
Jeanne-Françoise Quinault, la cadette (1699-1783), sister of the
Dufresne mentioned above. She acted 1718-41. The family produced several
celebrated players.
Mrs. Clive's way: Catherine
Raftor (1711-85), known as Catherine or Kitty Clive. She became famous as a
comic actress, but never succeeded in tragic rôles. Of her Johnson said
to Boswell, "Clive, sir, is a good thing to sit by; she always understands
what you say. In the sprightliness of humour I have never seen her equalled."
Monsieur Grandval:
Charles-François Racot de Grandval (1710-84), actor and playwright,
author of several witty but immoral comic operas. Wilks: Robert Wilks
(
"Gustavus Vasa": a play by
Henry Brooke (
Mademoiselle Dumenil:
Marie Françoise Marchand, called Dumesnil (1713-1803), who acted at the
Comédie Française 1737-76; one of the greatest if not the
greatest of French tragic actresses. Her only rival was Mlle. Clairon.
a huge heap of littleness:
borrowed from Pope's description of Timon's villa,
Latona: Leto, mother of
Apollo and Artemis. Homer's
in usum Delphini: for the
use of the Dauphin.
Cambis: Marquis de
Cambis-Velleron (1706-72), lieutenant-general of the Pope in France.
King, Queen, Dauphin,
Mesdames: Louis XV. (1710-74), Queen Maria (Leczinska, of Poland, 1703-68),
their son Louis (1729-65), and their daughters, of whom there were eight in
all, the seven living at this time ranging in age from eleven to less than two
years. See É de Barthelemy,
Britannicus: Racine's play
(1669), on which Gray modeled his
Phaedra and Hippolitus:
Racine's
Crebillon's Letters:
Claude-Prosper Jolyot de Crébillon (1707-77), published in 1732
one Bougeant:
Guillaume-Hyacinthe Bougeant
the Grande Chartreuse:
fourteen miles north of Grenoble, in the valley of the Guiers, 3205 feet
above the sea. Here St. Bruno (1030-1101) in 1084 founded the Order of the
Carthusians. The beautiful
Abelard and Heloïse:
no special reason for remembering them is evident, unless it be their
retirement to St. Denis and Argenteuil respectively. Peter Abelard (1079-1142)
was born at Palais near Nantes and passed his life in Paris and Northern
France. Heloïse, whose tragic story is inseparably linked with that of
the great scholastic philosopher, lived
Nives coelo, etc.: Livy,
xxi. 32.
carries the permission: a
phrase borrowed from Madame de Sevigné, who quotes a
can be tedious: West had
written (March 25), "His Pannonian sedition in the first book of his annals,
which is just as far as I have got, seemed to me a little tedious."
Satis constabat, etc.: end of
chap. 43.
the Dunciad: bk. iv.,
published in 1742.
grave discourses: Mason
thought that Gray here had in mind Francis Hutcheson (1694-1746), whose
paradisiacal pleasures:
West's reply was: "I rejoice you found amusement in
Marivaux: Pierre Carlet de
Chamblain de Marivaux (1688-1763). On Nov. 19, 1765, Walpole wrote to Gray
from Paris: "Crébillon is entirely out of fashion, and Marivaux a
proverb.
museful mopings:
trim of love: pleasant beverage:
a roundelay of love:
stood silent in his mood:
with knots and knares
deformed: his ireful mood:
in proud array:
his boon was granted:
and disarray and shameful
rout: wayward but wise:
furbished for the field:
the foiled dodderd oaks: Gray apparently wrote
or intended to write disherited:
smouldering flames:
retchless of laws:
crones old and ugly: the beldam at his side:
the grandam-hag:
villanize his Father's fame:
But I, that am, etc.:
silken son of dalliance,
etc.: see
Davanzati: Bernardo Davanzati
(1529-1606), a celebrated Florentine scholar.
prayers to the May: refers
to West's five stanzas beginning "Dear Gray, that still within my heart
Possessest far the better part!" printed by Tovey in
Broukhusius: Jean van
Broekhuizen (1649-1707), soldier, Latin poet, and editor of the works of
Propertius, his favorite author (1702). On May 5 West had written, "I am only
sorry you follow the blunders of Broukhusius, all whose insertions are
nonsense." Scaliger: Julius Caesar Scaliger (1484-1558), in his
in sad condition: after
these words Mason omitted some criticism of West's elegy.
the Peloponnesian war: in
Thucydides.
three lines in Anacreon:
Sigilla in mento, etc.: from
Varro's
John Chute: lived 1701-76.
He was educated at Eton. Between 1722 and 1754 he lived chiefly on the
Continent. He met Gray and Walpole at Casa Ambrosio, Horace Mann's house in
Florence, in 1740. Tovey says, "He was a man of taste and culture, —
there is a quiet and graceful pleasantry in his recorded
Mr. Mann: Horace Mann
(1701-86), then British minister at Florence; an intimate friend of Horace
Walpole, with whom he corresponded (for publication) for forty-four years. In
1755 he was created a baronet.
Middleton: Dr. Conyers
Middleton (1683-1750) in 1741 published a
the Sofa:
Mr. Garrick: Walpole likewise
"opposed" Garrick; see his letter to Mann, May 26, 1742.
Pergolesi's songs: Giovanni
Battista Pergolese
Galuppi's: Baldassare Galuppi
(1706-85), called "the father of Italian comic opera." Cf Browning,
Pescetti's:
Giambattista Pescetti, a prolific Venetian composer, d. 1758, He lived in
London three years.
My Lady of Queensbury:
Catherine Douglas, wife of the third Duke of Queensberry (d. 1777), celebrated
for her beauty and eccentricity, the friend of many literary men.
my Lady of Marlborough:
Sarah Churchill, Duchess of Marlborough (1660-1744), whose
Mr. Glover's: Richard Glover
(1712-85), a first cousin of Gray's friend West, and a poet, merchant, and
M. P. (1761-68); besides much trash he wrote one ballad,
[Greek word (omitted)], etc.:
"Reverencing the sacred grove, abounding in game, of the far-darting Queen,
leave, O hunter, the groves of the fearful goddess. Then the baying of the
divine hounds alone resounds there; thou sounding in answer to the music of
the wild Nymphs." For [Greek word (omitted)] cf. Theocritus, Ep. vi. 5,
[Greek word (omitted)].
an Heroic Epistle:
young friend: Dr. Mark
Akenside (1721-70), whose poem,
Hutchinson-Jargon: see the
note on 133, 13.
à la Mode du Temple:
an example of the critical methods of the lawyers of the Temple is
related by Walpole in his letter to Mann, March 11, 1748 : "There has been
a new comedy, called
the Enthusiast:
Health:
Mr. Fraigneau: William
Fraigneau (1717-88) became M.A. of Trinity College in 1743 and was professor
of Greek 1744-50, succeeding Walter Taylor, who died Feb. 25, 1744. Alsager
Vian (
the twentieth Year of the War:
Thucydides, bk. vii.
Xenophon, or Plutarch:
"Meaning, I think, how do you relish Xenophon (his account of the Retreat of
the Ten Thousand), or Plutarch (
Mr. Warton: Joseph Warton
(1722-1800), elder brother of Thomas Warton, and headmaster of Winchester
College 1766-93. His Mr. Collins:
William Collins (1721-59) was a schoolmate of Warton at Cambridge. His
Cibber's book:
Mrs. Letitia Pilkington's:
this adventuress
Dr. Waterland: Daniel
Waterland (1683-1740), a learned and trenchant champion of orthodoxy. From
1730 until his death he was archdeacon of Middlesex and vicar of Twickenham.
the Doctor's recommendation:
Middleton's book was highly laudatory. Cibber justified his treatment of
Cicero's weaknesses by observing that "David, the very man after God's own
heart, has not the least veil thrown over his sins or frailties, but
that they are as copiously laid open as his piety and virtues."
Mr. Spence's pretty book:
a little conversant: our
idiom requires, (but) little conversant.
our Laurel: The laurel was
imported into Europe by the botanist Clusius, about the year 1590, from
Trebizond. The orange was certainly unknown to Virgil, having been brought
from Ispahan at a much later period. Whitaker's ms. note, quoted by Mitford.
Mr. Lyttleton's elegy:
the kids and fawns: stanza vi begins:
Your epistle:
Nugent: Robert Craggs, Earl
Nugent (1702-88), a wealthy politician and poet, later patron of Goldsmith.
G. West: Gilbert West
(1703-56), who was to translate Pindar's
one of Mr. West's:
Archibald Bower: lived
1686-1766; twice joined and withdrew from the Jesuit order; had a very shady
career. The Professor. G. Professour.
the account of the
Gold-Mines: bk. iii., chaps. 12 f.
Gresset: Jean Baptiste Louis
Gresset (1709-77); educated by the Jesuits, he became a celebrated poet, and
in 1748 entered the Academy.
the Castle of Indolence:
published in May, 1748.
Mr. Mason: William Mason
(1724-97), who became Gray's devoted friend and biographer. A voluminous poet,
he also composed church music, and invented the celestina. Gray here refers
to the
Mr. Dodsley's book:
a State-poem:
his ballad:
M. Green: Matthew
Green "of the Custom House" (1696-1737), a poet whom Gray consistently
admired, wrote
The "School Mistress": by
William Shenstone (1714-63), said to have been "written at college, 1736";
first published in 1742. An imitation of Spenser.
"London": by Johnson;
reprinted from the ed. of 1738.
Mr. Dyer: John Dyer
(
Mr. Bramston: Rev. James
Bramston (
Mr. Nugent: Earl Nugent was
suspected of paying Mallet to write his best Ode, that addressed to [William]
Pulteney, his later and obviously unaided efforts being contemptible. Gosse.
Mr. Whitehead's: William
Whitehead (1715- 85), poet laureate from 1757 on.
your Epistle: see 150, 11, and the
note.
the beauties:
Mr. Lowth: probably Robert
Lowth (1710-87), professor of poetry at Oxford 1741-50 and in 1777 created
bishop of London. Mr. Ridley: probably Glocester Ridley (1702-74),
fellow of New College, Oxford, 1724-34, a miscellaneous writer. Mr.
Rolle: unidentified; in the 5th ed. (1758) at least, his name is
not attached to any poem; and this is true also of Lowth, Ridley, and Seward.
the Reverend Mr. Brown:
Tovey thinks this is the John Brown (1715-66) whose Seward:
Thomas Seward (1708-90), a clergyman, editor of Beaumont and Fletcher; of him
Coleridge, in his
the sickly Peer: Lord
Hervey, in his
Mr. S. Jenyns: in
an Ode: Lady Mary: Lady Mary Wortley
Montagu.
Sir T. Fitz-Osborne's
Letters: written by William Melmoth (1710-99) and published in 1742 under
the pen-name of Sir Thomas Fitz-Osborne. Melmoth was a popular translator of
Cicero and Pliny.
Edward: Gresset's
the President Montesquieu's:
Montesquieu (1689-1755) was president of the Parlement of Bordeaux from 1716
till 1726. Gray's criticism in every way stands the test of time.
Catilina: played Dec. 10,
1748. Prosper Jolyot de Crébillon, the elder, lived 1674-1762, and was
the bitter rival of Voltaire.
Travels in Egypt:
Mr. Birch: Rev. Thomas Birch
(1705-66), a voluminous antiquary, historian, and biographer. Gray refers to
his
Mason's Ode:
a book:
[Greek words (omitted)]:
"Distances do not destroy friendship absolutely, they only destroy its active
exercise. Still, if the absence be prolonged, it is supposed to work oblivion
of the friendship itself;
Dr. Middleton: see
the note on 138, 21; and L. Stephen,
a good writer: Mr. Gray
used to say, that good writing not only required great parts, but the very
best of those parts. Mason.
by Montesquieu himself:
unmistakably by Montesquieu, although he neither gave his name to it
nor wrote in the first person. It was a small pamphlet published at Geneva,
"chez Barillot et Fils," 1750, and sold at thirty sous. It was written in
answer to two successive articles in some journal (October 9th and 16th,
1749). Montesquieu was therein accused of Spinozism and Deism. One objection
urged against Montesquieu is that in his first chapter he says nothing about
original sin! The reply is exactly in the brief concise manner of
Histoire de Cabinet du Roi:
Buffons: George
Louis Leclerc, Comte de Buffon (1707-88).
vivacity of imagination: one
cannot therefore help lamenting that Mr. Gray let his imagination lie dormant
so frequently, in order to apply himself to this very science. Mason.
the Abbé de Mongon:
Charles Alexandre Montgon (1690-1770) was secretly employed by Philip V. of
Spain in 1726 in studying the means of securing the French crown for Philip
in case of the death of Louis XV., and helped to bring about reconciliation
between France and Spain in 1727. His
Presid. Henault's: Charles
Jean François Hénault (1685-1770) became in 1710 president of
the first chamber of inquests of the parliament of Paris. He achieved success
as a poet and a historian. The Gil Blas: a comedy by Edward
Moore which appeared in 1751.
The Fine Lady:
Mr. Coventry: Francis Coventry
(died to him you knew: Henry Coventry (d. 1752), also of
Magdalene (M.A. 1733); author of
Lady Vane: the beautiful but
notorious daughter of Francis Hawes, a South Sea director; lived 1713-88;
married Viscount Vane, her second husband, in 1735. In 1751 she paid Smollett
to insert her
"Gosling Scrag": this and
the Monody were afterward omitted.
Remarks on the Letters, etc.:
Mr. Tovey, after comparing these remarks with the letters to which they refer,
concludes "that Mason's original correspondent was other than Gray, and
possibly a man of straw." I agree with him, but not for the reasons set down
in his note (
Dear Sir . . . I am yours:
omitted by Mason in the revision of his letters. Mason had presumably said:
"I meant only to pursue the antient method, so far as it is probable a Greek
poet, were he alive, would now do, in order to adapt himself to the genius of
our times, and the character of our Tragedy. According to this notion, every
thing was to be allowed to modern caprice, which nature and Aristotle could
possibly dispense with." "Modern caprice" was later changed to "the present
taste."
Love and tenderness: Mason
had said: "A story was chosen, in which the tender rather than the noble
passions were predominant."
more intrigue: Mason had
said (Letter III): "Hence it is [because of the lack of restraint imposed on
the poet by a chorus], that secret intrigues become (as Mr. Dryden gravely
calls them)
the verisimilitude or the
regularities: Mason (end of Letter II) had said: "In France, the
excellence of their several poets is chiefly measured by this standard
[
Modern Melpomene: Mason
expunged this before printing, probably substituting "these playmakers."
He printed this: "But whatever these Play-makers may have gain'd by rejecting
the Chorus, the true Poet has lost considerably by it. For he has lost a
graceful and natural resource to the embellishments of Picturesque
Description, sublime allegory, and whatever else comes under the denomination
of
young girls: an obvious
allusion to Racine's
Jane Shore's reflections:
Rowe,
the ——: perhaps
referred to
Maffei's Merope: Scipione
Maffei (1675-1755); his
express poetry: Mason had
remarked (Letter V) that the stage omission of the chorus from
bishop Burnet: Gilbert Burnet
(1643-1715), bishop of Salisbury from 1689 on. "For I do
solemnly say this to the world, and make my humble appeal upon it to the great
God of truth, that I tell the truth on all occasions, as fully and freely as I
upon my best inquiry have been able to find it out." Preface to
a man here: apparently
Christopher Smart (1722-71), the mad poet, whose first confinement in
Bethlehem Hospital occurred in the year 1751.
Dr. Middleton's: see
138, 21, and the note. The first collective edition of his works (except the
Dr. Waterland: see 145, 3, and the
note.
The second: also apparently
unpublished; has no connection with his
His Prussian Majesty:
Friedrich II (1712-86), called "the Great," third king of Prussia.
History of Crusades:
Voltaire's
Voix du Sage et du Peuple:
this was Voltaire's
the Speculum of Archimedes: so
called because of the legend that Archimedes invented a burning-glass that set
fire to the Roman ships when within bow-shot of the wall. Neither Livy,
Plutarch, nor Polybius mentions the story. A. is also said to have written a
treatise, now lost, on the burning-glass.
de Maintenon's letters:
Françoise d'Aubigné, Marquise de Maintenon (1635-1719),
privately married to Louis XIV. in 1684. She became governess to Madame de
Montespan's sons in 1669. Gray's view of her is now generally held.
Bishop Hall's Satires:
Joseph Hall (1574-1656), bishop of Norwich; his satires were written at
Emanuel College, Cambridge, and first published in 1597-98.
Dr. Donne: John Donne
(1573-1631), dean of St. Paul's. His satires were versified by Pope and
published in 1735.
Lord Radnor's Vagaries:
Lord Radnor's landscape gardening was ridiculed by both Gray and Walpole. The
latter wrote to Conway, November 8, 1752 : "Have you any Lord Radnor that
plants trees to intercept his own prospect, that he may
Dr. Akenside: see 141, 17, and the
note. Akenside was at this time writing for and editing Dodsley's
Dr. Pococke: Richard
Pococke (1704-65), bishop of Meath and celebrated as a traveler. He visited
Egypt in 1737-38.
Diodorus: bk. i.,
chap. xlvi.
Dr. Shaw's book:
Strophe and Antistrophe:
he often made the same remark to me in conversation, which led me to form the
last Ode of
nine lines each at the most:
see the end of the last note.
Monsignor Baiardi's book:
Ottavio Antonio Bajardi (
Voltaire's performance:
hover'd in thy noontide ray:
I follow Tovey in italicizing in this poem whatever Gray strikes through.
Sully's Memoirs:
Mémoires de Monsieur de
la Porte: Pierre de la Porte (1603-80), valet de chambre of Louis XIV.
His
Madame Staal: Marguerite
Jeanne Cordier, baroness of Staal de Launay (1684-1750). Her
Dr. Brown's book: see
the note on 155, 15. Mitford notes that the
book "occupied for a time a very large share of public attention and applause;
several editions were called for in the course of a year, and a second
volume followed the first."
the little wicked book:
the chicken: probably
Neville: Thomas Neville
(d. 1781), of Jesus College, Cambridge, published imitations of Horace (1758)
and of Juvenal and Persius (1759), and a translation of Virgil's
the old Scotch ballad:
this thing:
your first Chorus: in
"the sober sisters," etc.:
ed. of 1759:
with emotion: on the drama
which excited
The plot of
the abstract idea personified:
ed. of 1759:
Caractacus: ed. of 1759,
p. 16; ed. of 1811, pp. 97 f.
writing an Ode: Mason had
written (Jan. 5): "I send you two odes, one so very ancient that
all the Æolian lyres that ever sounded are mere things of yesterday in
comparison. If you have a mind to trace my imagery, you will find it all
huddled together by Keysler, in his 'Antiquitates Selectae Septentrionales
et Celticae' [Hanover, 1728]. The book I do not doubt is to be met with at
Cambridge; and if you have not seen it you need only read his second chapter.
But tell me, may this sort of imagery be employed? will its being Celtic make
it Druidical? If it will not, burn it; if it will, why scratch it
The first of these Odes, which Gray now criticizes, was the Druid's song on
Death (
Mallet's Introduction: Paul
Henri Mallet (1730-1807), b. at Geneva and professor of history there,
published in 1755-6 his
pure, perspicuous, and
musical: Tovey thinks
this Elegy:
"A mountain hoar," etc.: Tovey
thinks Mason had written:A mountain hoar, the savage peak
surrounds.
Gray objects to the omission of the relative; see
Tovey's note,
Pelloutier: Mason had asked
if Pelloutier had published vol. iii. of his
Elegy I:
"choir": Mason spelled
"Fervid": cf. 224, 27, and the
note.
Elegy II:
Elegy III:
Agis: by John Home
(1722-1808); it was played at Drury Lane Feb. 21, 1758, Garrick playing a
leading part.
the Miscellany: cf. Gray's
previous criticism, 152 ff.
Dr. Swift:
M. de Torcy: Jean Baptiste
Colbert, Marquis de Torcy (1665-1746), secretary of state under Louis XIV.
His
Monsieur Freret: Nicholas
Freret (1688-1749), a celebrated savant, whose bold Hodges: Gray alludes to the
two additional volumes to Dodsley's
the tragic poet: perhaps
Arthur Murphy (1727-1805), author of
Dr. Stukeley's: William
Stukeley (1687-1765), physician, clergyman, and antiquary, sometimes called
"the Arch-Druid." He wrote much on Stonehenge.
the Greek Sophist: Hegesias
the Cyrenaic, nicknamed, from his encouragement to suicide, Peisithanatos;
cf. Cicero,
William Palgrave:
your second packet:
contained the practically completed
the six last lines: they
are addressed to the harp of the minstrel Camber:
the four last lines: these
read in the edition of 1759:
"The Fairy Fancy": the ed.
of 1759 reads:Fancy, the fairy, with thee came.
"Beat on," etc.: ed. of 1759:
Dr. Long: Roger Long
(1680-1770), the celebrated astronomer; became master of Pembroke Hall,
Cambridge, in 1733, and Lowndean professor of astronomy and geometry in 1750.
See the Introduction, p. xxxviii.
Cleone: by Dodsley; acted at
Covent Garden Dec. 2, 1758. Garrick had condemned it as "cruel, bloody, and
unnatural." It ran sixteen nights.
Merope: a translation by
Aaron Hill (1685-1750) of Voltaire; first acted in 1749.
The Guardian: adapted
by Garrick from Fagan's
Cocchi's: Gioacchino Cocchi
(before 1720-
the Cyrus:
These are,
etc.: a criticism of the revised ode beginning, "Hail, thou harp of
Phrygian fame!" This criticism, extending as far as my
favorite Stanzas: the poet is speaking of Inspiration; ed. of 1759:
tout-ensembles: Mason had
written, in the latter part of November, 1758: "I will attempt a new Mador's
song to please you, but, in my own mind, I would not have him sing there at
all on account of the
blank: Mason changed it to
"trickling runlet": this
was cut out.
"philosophy": ed. of
1759:
Caesar and Fate: ed. of
1759:Caesar and Fate demand him at your hands.
"modest mounds": Tovey
thinks
this ceremony: in the ed.
of 1759 the Semi-chorus says:
It then asks if the steers are ready for the sacrifice.
aske: a newt or lizard; a
common word in northern England, cf. Wright,
"Gender'd by," etc.: ed. of
1759:
an old British fancy:
that the adder-stone, or druid's egg (a bead of glass used as a charm) was
produced "by snakes joining their heads together and hissing, which forms a
kind of bubble like a ring about the head of one of them, which the test by
continual hissing blow on till it comes off at the tail, when it immediately
hardens and resembles a glass ring." See Brand-Hazlitt,
Its nodding walls, etc.:
Mason accepted the lines except this one.
"pestilent glare": ed. of
1759:
"I know it, rev'rend Fathers":
ed. of 1759:
Mingotti: Regina Valentini
Mingotti (1728-1807), born at Naples, sang with great success in many European
capitals. Cf.
Metastasio: Pietro
Bonaventura Metastasio (1698-1782), a Roman, especially famed as a lyric poet.
hares: Tovey suspects that
Gray punned on
Money: cf. Gray's letter
to Wharton, June 5, 1748.
the end of the scene: ed.
of 1759, pp. 46-48; ed. of 1811, pp. 129-31.
"Thou, gallant boy": changed
by Mason to "Thou best of brothers."
"Fervid": Tovey notes
that Shakespeare does not use the word, but Milton uses it twice
[
the joint criticism: by Dr.
Warburton, owner of Prior Park, and Mr Hurd, who was frequently there.
the chorus of the
rocking-stone: the ode beginning, "Thou Spirit pure, that spread'st
unseen," ed. of 1759, pp. 40 f., Mason,
Whitehead's two Odes:
Froissard: Tovey here reminds
us of Sainte-Beuve's comment on Froissart (
the succeeding century: the
fifteenth. Jean Froissart lived
King Arthur: supposed to
have lived in the fourth and fifth centuries. His story became celebrated
through the fabulous account in Geoffrey of Monmouth's Sir Tristram: at first the hero of an independent legend, but very
early associated with Arthur. The story of Arthur and Guinevere was probably
influenced by that of Tristram. See Malory, books viii., x.
Archbishop Turpin: died
the four Irish kings: bk.
iv., chap. 64.
who informed Froissard: bk.
iv., chap. 62.
specimens of Erse poetry:
translations from the Gaelic by the notorious James Macpherson (1736-96). At
Moffat in the previous autumn he had shown sixteen pieces to John Horne and
Dr. Alexander Carlyle. Two of these, apparently, were sent by Sir David
Dalrymple to Horace Walpole in January, 1760, and passed on by Walpole to
Gray. Macpherson's e siècle
Hardycanute: printed by
Percy,
the K. of Prussia's poetry:
the scum of Voltaire: Gray
retained this prejudice; he wrote to Walpole, March 17, 1771: "He must have a
very good stomach that can digest the
Crambe recocta: cf. Occidit
miseros crambe repetita magistros. Juv., vii. 154. Tovey.
Tristram Shandy: vols. i. and
ii. appeared January 1, 1760.
Musaeus: Mason's monody
on Pope, written in 1744 and published in 1747; Gray had just revised it.
a bloody satire:
Mr. Pottinger: Richard
Pottinger, who in 1754 became under-secretary of state.
Mr. Evans: Evan Evans
(1731-89), who in 1764 published
M. D'Alembert: Jean le Rond
d'Alembert (1717-83), one of the greatest figures in eighteenth-century
France; he especially distinguished himself in mathematics and philosophy.
With Diderot he was engaged from 1751 till 1758 in editing the
his Elements:
the letter to Rousseau: the
"polished, cool, ironical answer" to Rousseau's
"Discourses on Elocution":
"Liberty of Music":
while rocking winds:
has described it gloriously:
I agree with Tovey that Gray probably had in mind ll. 191-94.
"The waves are tumbling,"
etc.: since published in a note to "Croma,"
a letter from Mr. David Hume:
printed in
the nave of York Minster:
now dated 1291- 1324; F. Bond,
the choir: Bond dates
The Lady Chapel: begun in
1321.
the Chapel of Bishop West:
Bond, p. 643, dates 1534.
Lady M. C.: Lady Mary Coke,
daughter of the Duke of Argyll, who married Viscount Coke in 1747; became
known for her eccentricities.
lightning: Mason
changed it to
this line: Tovey thus
restores:That led her hence; though soon, the steps were
slow.
Mason revised it thus:That led her hence,
though soon, by steps so slow.
a less metaphorical line:
ll. 73-76 now read (2d ed., 1763):
a good line: it now reads:
The breeze of bliss, that fills your silken sail.
"Truth ne'er can sanctify":
the stanza now reads:
the Nouvelle Heloise:
Rousseau's
Amadis de Gaul: mentioned
in 1379 as a book much read in Spain; immensely popular on the Continent in
the 15th and 16th centuries. Probably originated in Spain, though some defend
the claims of France. Gray presumably read it in French. Southey, who
translated it into English from the Spanish, ascribed it to Vasco Lobeira, a
Portuguese knight who died in 1403.
mistake his own talents:
Mitford here quotes Landor,
Elisi: a man of great
reputation and abilities; performed at the opera in London 1760 and 1761. A
great singer and eminent actor. See Burney's
The Mattei: Colomba Mattei;
she "was both a charming singer and a spirited and intelligent actress."
Burney, iv. 464 f. In 1759 she won distinction in Cocchi's
the Paganina: Signora
Paganini, who sang with her husband in
the Spiletta: the part of
Spiletta in Cocchi's
Mr. Richardson: probably
Jonathan Richardson the younger (1694-1771), son of the painter (of
the same name, 1665-1745) to whom Gray sat about 1729 for the portrait now in
the Fitzwilliam Museum.
Hollar: Wenceslaus Hollar
(1607-77), a Bohemian engraver brought to England by the Earl of Arundel;
appointed by Charles II. "His Majesty's designer." He produced over 2700
prints.
Mr. Halfpenny: William
Halfpenny, a London architect, had just published a work on
his new play: Whitehead's
"Elegy against Friendship":
the poem
a very serious compliment:
the praise of Gray occurs in Lloyd's "Epistle to Churchill" —
Dr. Lowth's Grammar: Robert
Lowth's
the bishop: Warburton,
bishop of Gloucester.
the chapel of St. Sepulchre:
originally "a
Archbishop Roger: Roger of
Pont l'Evêque, archbishop of York, d. 1181.
a rude draught: the accuracy
of Gray's drawing has been questioned; see Mitford's note,
Johnny Ludlam: there were two
persons well known in literature and science, the Rev. William and the Rev.
Thomas Ludlam, both Fellows of St. John's College. William was M.A. 1742, and
died 1788; Thomas was M.A. 1752, and died 1811. . . . My friend Mr. Nichols
agrees with me in thinking that one of these brothers was alluded to: the
familiar name Johnny being given to him from his residence at St. John's
College. Mitford.
the individual chapel: "The
chapel was restored, if not rebuilt, by Archbishop Thoresby, and was removed
at the Reformation." Raine.
the south transept: dates
from 1230-
the chapter-house: not easily
dated; Bond puts it
Roger's own tomb: cf. Murray's
Yorkshire
Mr. Howe: William Taylor
Howe, of Standon Place, near Ongar, Essex, an honorary Fellow of Pembroke
College. Mitford.
Count Algarotti's: Count
Francesco Algarotti (1712-64), a learned dilettante, who corresponded on
matters of taste with Frederick the Great, with Voltaire, and with Augustus
III., king of Poland. Gosse. Cf. Carlyle,
Émile: published in
1762.
one Prince in Europe:
Frederick the Great;
Cocchi: the first of
Cocchi's productions mentioned by Burney,
Inigo Jones: lived
1573-1652; designed the banqueting-hall of Whitehall, the facade of St.
Paul's, the Physicians' College, etc.; the chief architect of his time.
Count Algarotti's books: three
small treatises on Painting, the Opera, and the French Academy for Painters in
Italy; they have been since collected in the Leghorn edition of his works.
Mason.
the Jesuits' Letters:
Chambers's little discourse:
your Sonnet:
a mass of Pergolesi: on
Gray's musical library see the opening chapter of Henry E. Krehbiel's
the Epigram: "I possess
several of Mason's political and personal epigrams, which Walpole used to
insert for him in
Mr. Churchill: Charles
Churchill died Nov. 4, 1764.
Mr. Langhorne's: John
Langhorne (1735-79) was at this time curate and lecturer at St. John's,
Clerkenwell. He had been publishing verse for five years.
comes from Voltaire: one of
the best modern estimates of Voltaire is that of Sir J. F. Stephen,
Rousseau's Letters:
at Modena: Mason adds the
following (I print his own words in italics):
An Altar Piece. — Guido.
The top, a Heaven; in the middle, at a distance, the Padre-Eterno indistinctly seen, and lost, as it were, in glory. On either hand, Angels of all degrees in attitudes of adoration and wonder. A little lower, and next the eye, supported on the wings of Seraphs, Christ (the principal figure) with an air of calm and serene majesty, his hand extended, as commanding the elements to their several places: near him an Angel of superior rank bearing the golden compasses (that Milton describes); beneath the Chaos, like a dark and turbulent ocean, only illumined by the Spirit, who is brooding over it.
A small Picture. — Correggio.
Eve newly created, admiring her own shadow in the lake.
Another. — Domenichino.
Medea in a pensive posture, with revenge and maternal affection striving
in her visage; her two children at play, sporting with one another before
her. On one side a bust of Jason, to which they bear some resemblance.
Agave in the moment she returns to her senses; the head of her Son, fallen on the ground from her hand.
A Picture. — Salvator Rosa.
Sigismonda with the heart of Guiscardo before her. I have seen a small print on this subject, where the expression is admirable, said to be graven from a picture of Correggio.
Another. — Albano, or the Parmeggiano.
Iphigenia asleep by the fountain side, her maids about her; Cymon gazing and laughing.
Another. — Domenichino, or the Carracci.
Electra with the urn, in which she imagined were her Brother's ashes, lamenting over them; Orestes smothering his concern.
Another. — Correggio.
Ithuriel and Zephon entering the bower of Adam and Eve; they sleeping. The light to proceed from the Angels.
Another. — Nicholas Poussin.
Alcestis dying; her children weeping, and hanging upon her robe; the
youngest of them, a little boy, crying too, but appearing rather to do so,
because the others are afflicted, than from any sense of the reason of their
sorrow: her right arm should be round this, her left extended towards the
rest, as recommending them to her Lord's care; he fainting, and supported by
the attendants.
Hannibal passing the Alps; the mountaineers rolling down rocks upon his army; elephants tumbling down the precipices.
Another. — Domenichino.
Arria giving Claudius's order to Paetus, and stabbing herself at the same time.
N. Poussin, or Le Seur.
Virginius murdering his daughter; Appius at a distance, starting up from his tribunal; the people amazed, but few of them seeing the action itself.
the dedicatorial sonnet: see
267, 7, and the
note.
"his ghastly smile": a
jocose allusion to what Gray, in another place, calls Lord Holdernesse's ugly
face. Mitford. The line reads "his wonted smile."
Mr. Bentham: James Bentham
(1708-94), prebendary of Ely. The "Historical Remarks on the Saxon
Churches," which Gray here reviews, formed the introduction to his
the epitaph: the
My only objection is . . . :
the erasure here was made by Mason in compliment to Beattie. Gosse. A like
erasure occurs at 284, 10.
Mr. Ferguson's: Adam
Ferguson (1723-1816), professor of philosophy at Edinburgh 1759-85.
the fault you mention:
Beattie had written (March 30): "A Professor at Edinburgh has published an
the book:
Speed: John Speed
(Leslie: John Leslie (1527-96), bishop of Ross; his
Mr. Boswell's Book:
Sir William Cornwallis:
ambassador to Spain under James I.; d.
Guthrie: William Guthrie
(1708-70), who published in 1767
Some trifles: Here followed
some verbal suggestions, the exact form of which has not been preserved, but
the tenor of Gray's criticism, in detail, may be found in Forbes's
Monstrelet: Euguerrand de
Monstrelet (1390-1453); his
Philip de Comines: 1445-1509.
His
Villehardouin: Geoffroi de
Villehardouin (Joinville: Jean, Sire de
Joinville (1225-1317), whose
such as imitate them:
the plaister of thy hair: I
did not intend a poem uniformly epical and solemn; but one rather that might
be lyrical, or even satirical, upon occasion. Beattie.
I most admire: I meant here
an ironical argument. Perhaps, however, the irony is wrong [
garniture: I have often wished
to alter this same word, but have not yet been able to hit upon a better.
Beattie.
wandering:
that part: I had sent Mr.
Gray from st. 23 to st. 39 by way of specimen. Beattie.
like affectation: it does
so, and yet it is not affected. I have endeavoured once and again to clear
this passage of those obnoxious letters, but I never could please myself.
Alliteration has great authorities on its side, but I would never seek for it;
nay, except on some very particular occasions, I would rather avoid it. When
Mr. Gray, once before, told me of my propensity to alliteration, I repeated to
him one of his own lines, which is indeed one of the finest in poetry —
Nor cast one longing lingering look behind.
Beattie.
to advantage: this
remark is perfectly just. All I can say is, that I meant, from the beginning,
to take some latitude in the composition of this poem, and not confine myself
to the epical rules for narrative. In an epic poem these digressions and
reflections, etc., would be unpardonable. Beattie.
hazardous at best: I would
as soon make new coin, as knowingly make a new word, except I were to invent
any art or science where they would be necessary.
enough before: what I said
before referred only to sophists perverting the truth; this alludes to the
method by which they pervert it. Beattie.
rarely thunders: it sometimes
thunders in the latter part of spring.
with probability: this is
an excellent hint; it refers to something I had been saying in my last letter
to Mr. Gray, respecting the plan of what remains of
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