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Les diagrammes suivants iilustrent la mAthode. i 1 • .a 3 I t r ■ ; i t , 1- M : 4 5 6 W '^j>$fjJkfM^ wW Ll / M i 1 ^ "" •Twjr-'^''-''' F( GOLDSMITH'S TRAVELLER D GRAY'S ELEGY IN A COUNTRY CHURCH- YARD; WITH LIVES, NOTES AND EXAMINATION QUESTIONS, KY WILLIAM WILLIAMS, B.A., Head Master, Collinqwood Colleoiatk Institutk, AND JOHN TAIT, First English Master. For the use of Candidates preparing for University Matriculation, First and Second Class Teachers' Certificates, and the High School Intermediate Examination. TORONTO : JAMES CAMPBELL & SON, PUBLISHERS, 1879. Entered according to the Act of rarliament of Canada, in the =5tr:rs==-5r: year one Camphf.ll&Son, in DUDLKY k BTJRNS, PRINTERS, TOKONTO. CONTENTS. n the AMES ilture. Gf.NERAL iNTROnrCTION, Chronological Parallel, Life of Goldsmith, . . • • Introduction to the "Traveli.kr', Dedication of the "Traveller", . The " Traveller", . • • • Preliminary Notes, . . . • Notes on the "Traveller", Life of Gray, Introduction to the *• Elegy", . The "Elegy", Notes on the "Elegy", Questions for Examination, . Paok. V xiv 1 19 . 23 25 . 43 45 ■ 77 89 . 93 99 . 129 i * 'A ® 1 GENERAL INTRODUCTION. Thk poet reflects Ins age. Its modes of thought, its prevailing sentiments, its tastes, are all faithfully mir- rored in his writings. He is the most sensitive of men. These things make a deeper impression upon him than upon others. Though looking to future ages for the applause which the present may deny, yet he cannot afford to overlook that present, and so, writes \ 'hat the public taste of the day most highly appreciates. Hence, his utterances are always deeply colored by the prevalent opinions of the time, moulded by the spirit of the age, and modified by its dominant tendencies. For this reason, we have the so-called schools of poetry, as the natural school of Chaucer, the artificial school of Pope, the romantic school of Scott and Byron, and the present school of which Tennyson and Browning are the chief representatives. In view of the intimate connection between the poet and his age, and of the influence which they reciprocally exert upon each other, it is essential to the intelligent appreciation of his productions, to have some acquaint- ance with the times in which he lived. To assist the student in this respect is the object of the present chapter. Chaucer, the great father of English poetry, was the acknowledged inventor of the English heroic line. This measure, so well adapted to the genius of the language, speedily became the favorite verse, and each succeeding poet and poetaster attempted to add something towards perfecting this accentual form of versification. To its V VI (iKNKRAL INTRODUCriOX. improved regularity and more settled number of syllables, rhyme was added in imitation of the poetical forms of the Romanesque dialects ; and, subsequently, when French models became the admiration of English poets, the rhym- ing' couplet, for a time, supplanted e\ery other form of verse. The gradually impro\ ing regularity and polish of the line are especially perceptible in the foremost poets of the language. Shakespeare greatly excels Chaucer, particularly in the number of syllables, and Milton is still more regular than Shakespeare. Dryden represents the period of transition. In his verses are the " last exam- ples of nobleness, freedom, variety of pause and cadence, and the first models of the neatness and precision which the following generation esteemed so highly." The task of perfecting the fashion thus introduced by this great poet, was beciueathed to Pope and his school. In their poems we have art in its perfection. Correct diction, faultless versification, and mechanical brilliancy are the distinctive characteristics of the poetry of this artificial school. But, if poetry was thus brought to perfection in its mechanical structure, the great change which it under- went stripped it of some of its native charms. A prominent feature of earlier English poetry was its love for external nature and the realities of life. In the verse of Chaucer, there breathe a freshness, vigor, and naturalness, which for some generations continued to per- vade poetical literature. The period of comparative lit- erary barrenness which followed the outburst of activity in the enterprising age of Edward the Third, was in many respects collecting forces for the unparalleled splendor of the age of Elizabeth. The revival of classical learning lent a coloring that blended not unsuitably with the spirit of our literature and gave to its entire character, elevation and polish. But it was improved, not changed. The I c.KNKkAi. i:, iKonrcrioN. vii lal)les, of the French rhym- orm of lish of t poets haucer, is still snts the t exam- adcnce, n which 1ie task is great In their diction, 1 are the artificial ection in it under- V was its In the igor, and ;d to per- ative lit- f activity ; in many lendor of learning the spirit elevation ed. The same genuine loxc of nature breathes throughout the poems of our MarU)\Nes, (Ircencs, Spcnsers, and in the writings of the ' myriad -minded' Shakespeare himself, that pervades the Msion of I'icrs I'lowuuui and tlie Canterbury Talcs, in after years, tiiough the Puritans ])anished the theatre and e\er\' vestige of imagination from the land, yet, strange to say, it was among the jjoets of these very people, that the love of nature still continued to struggle ft)r life, and found in the poetry of the immor- tal Milton himself, its sweetest and tenderest expression. I3u», by the side of the school of poetry to which Chau- cer, Shakespeare, and Milton belong, there had been gro\ving up another, distinguishable from it by drawing its informing spirit {\ow\ the study of Oreek and Roman classical models, as the former had derived its inspiration from the (iothic and Romance Literature of the Middle Ages. Its beginnings may be traced in the works of such English poets as Marston, L)avies, and Hail, while its development becomes clearly apparent in the dramas of Ben Jonson. This classical tendency received a new impulse from the tide of French influence which flowed in upon the country, at the time of the Restoration. The school of French poetry then in vogue, had been, like that of which we have been speal ing, founded upon clas- sical models ; and the popularit/ which it now attained in England through the influence of the court of Charles the Second, united with the English taste for classical subjects and modes of treatment then becoming fashion- able ; and the result of this union was to give this form of poetry so great prominence, that for some generations, it held undivided empire over the poetical taste of the country. It was under the hand of Dryden that this school of poetry rose, in some respects, to its highest eminence. But, in its mechanical perfection, its neatness GERERAL INTRODUCTION. to his successor. Pope, w ^^^^^ The treme that it began to pall upon ^^^ ^ ^^ ^,,i„g '-^--' •'^Vr s;:ct^r;igMy pt^shed as it .as been now m a U respect ^^ ^^^^^^ ^^, t^.s possible to '"'^'«='*., J" thought that the " matter was carried that .t was ^' '»^= '\ f„^ „f ^he words that gave of ,ess "-P-'-r the s£ of the ring was of more it utterance, that the =^".'"^ , gd... strong emotion esteem than the diamond te^ ^^^^^,^^ and gushing Pf f " J\^, e not to be disturbed, and deep feelings of the sotd were ^^ ^^^^^ ^ ^^^^^^ even "truth" was of^- J^ „,„dy of rhyme, round." Harmony ^^ J^^^*"^'^ fj^ u.e nobler charms trim and courtly d.ct.on -^'^ Agination. U was an of poetry-true f ^^'""^ ^^^^^eflected by those who artificial age, and was strong ^ „ ^et the nature they . ^^^ ^^^^^^ ^^^ ^ ,. ^.^n The public had grown tued ot ^^^^ ,^_.^^^^,„g to nature. 0"^=^^'" T^hion. The influence of the loose from the ''""f "^ ^ J^^founded by the Wartons, „ew school of poet.c cr.tm ^^^^ doubtless and the publication o. W J contributed to the the two most Pf "' =^f ""'f^om the classical to the furtherance of the chanf ' o ^^ ^ romantic spirit, "^l^'^^Jf ople. The poets catching itself in the tastes of *e pe P j^^ iration of the the breath of the true but fo go^^^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^^^ past, while «^l-"g;"g \° *,%L clear-cut, artificial spirit gradually began Wfors^e^^^^^ " subjects and forms of the school of Fope, au GENERAL INTRODUCTION. ix 3* )rough imitted an ex- The having it was as this ter was at gave af more emotion The bed, and period rhyme, charms was an lose who ture they :ourt and ) a crisis, ►r a return breaking ice of the Wartons, doubtless ;ed to the al to the I manifest 5 catching ion of the the verse, [icial spirit and forms I of expression in a wider, more passionate and more natural sphere of nature and emotion." It was during this period that Gray vvrotc--at the period when art had attained perfection, and when the pubhc taste was caUing for something more than art, when it was beginning to demand again the freshness, naturahiess, and sprightly vivacity of the early poetry of the language. Accordingly, in his poetry are seen all the characteristics of this transition. There is in his versification all the polish of Pope. In fact, there is no more exquisitely elaborated and mechanically perfect poetry in the language. But with these is found also a spirit strongly antagonistic to that of this school. In the richness of his fancy, the rolling swell of his melodious verse, and the stately majesty of his tone, is perceptible a return to nature and her beauties. True, his verse is tinged with the didactic tendencies of the times, and attempts, in its somewhat gloomy grandeur, to pursue a moralizing strain ; yet there breathes throughout his poems, the reviving inspiration which culminated in the poetry of Cowper and Wordsworth. The same remarks apply, in a slightly modified form, to Goldsmith. Writing at a somewhat later period than Gray, the gradual advance of poetic taste is clearly trace- able in his utterances. Making all allowance for the different dispositions of the poets — the idle, inconstant, unstudious rambler, and the busy, persevering, toiling hermit — there is a laborious, unwearying labor in pol- ishing and perfecting the versification, yet the polish is scarcely equal to that of Gray ; there is, too, an at- tempt, futile though it be, at theorizing in verse. But whilst he conforms thus far to the fashion of the times, he exhibits a studied avoidance of the antithetical con- trasts, epigrammatic pointedness, and diamond-like hard- ness of the poets of the Augustan age of Queen Anne. I; ii i : X GENERAL INTRODUCTION. During the period of transition, in which these two poets wrote, a copious supply of poetry was not wanting, yet scarcely anything that was then written can be said to have lived. From the death of Pope (1744) till the appearance of Cowper's poems, was one of the most bar- ren periods in genuine and enduring poetical merit, in the whole course of our literature. Perhaps, the only poems of this time, which have survived until the present and possess any fair prospect of immortality, are those of Gray, (Goldsmith, and Collins. It would, however, be a mistake to attribute the decay of poetry entirely to the dominant literary taste of the time ; for, unfavorable as it undoubtedly was, to the production of poetry of the highest order, it will be found, that the moral and politi- cal tendencies of that age were still more effective in depressing poetical genius and in restraining the activity of the Muse. England had been for many years sunk under the wave of Deism and religious indifference, which was partly the result of the French influence that followed the reti'n of the exiled Stuart king, and partly arose as a KdUiral reaction from the austerity of the Puritanical piety. The Protestant churches had lost much of their vitality and exercised but little influence over the masses. Owing to their poverty, ignorance, and great increase in numbers, the lower orders became in the large towns grossly degraded and brutal ; and in the rural districts, being unprovided with moral or religious training of any kind, their condition was, if possible, still more deplora- ble. The higher circles, not to mention the prominent statesmen of the time, made a scoff at religion, and fully vindicated their contempt for all morality by the wick- edness and open profligacy of their lives. " In the middle classes," says Greene, " the old piety lived on unchanged. I I GENERAL INTRODUCTION. xx se two anting, be said till the )st bar- , in the poems nt and hose of sr, be a y to the rable as r of the d politi- ictive in : activity nder the 'as partly iwed the ose as a iritanical 1 of their s masses, crease in ore towns districts, (\g of any ; deplora- )rominent and fully the wick- he middle nchanged, and it was from this class that a religious rcvixal burst forth at the close of VValpole's ministry, which changed in a few years the whole temper of English society.'^ This great mo\ ement had, for some years, been producing" its purifying effects upon English manners and English taste, when our poets appeared in succession upon the scene. The profligacy which had disgraced the upper classes, had now largely disappeared, and " the foulness which had infested literature ever since the Restoration," had been learly banished from the land. Notwithstand- ing the improvement which had been effected, the pre- vailing spirit of the age was still unpoetic. Our greatest poets have arisen during periods of remarkable daring or of profound faith. Chaucer appeared in the age of the con- quest of France ; Shakespeare, when fa;th was attesting its sincerity at the stake. With the decay of the scepti- cism of Bolingbroke and Pope, society once more began to assume a phase, more sincere and, consequently, more conducive to the growth and development of the true spirit of poetry. Still the influence exerted by I'.ie public men of the day was little favorable to the cultivation of poetry. In the reign of Charles the Second, Dorset had intro- duced a system of patronage, which for many years was- extensively practised in England. At no period in English history, have literary men enjoyed so richly the assistance of those in power as during the reigns of William the Third, Anne, and George the First. Then almost every writer who could attract public attention, was immediately favored with a pension, a sinecu]e,or a commission. Rowe^ Locke, Newton, Prior, Gay, and Steele were a few of the multitude who were placed above indigence by this system, of princely patronage. But Harley and Bolingbroke were succeeded by Walpole. Walpole was a wise tactician,, xu GENERAL INTRODUCTION. '■ i ! but his tactic? took no literary turn. The money which his predecessors had so nobly spent in fostering the lit- erary talent of the country, he needed for purposes of corruption, and poets were left to starve, or beg, or " tear with wolfish teeth" their scanty morsel in some dark Grub-street cellar, for aught the administration cared. As it was a period of transition in the spirit of poetry, so was it also in the poet's audience and means of support. Government patronage had ceased, never again to revive except in fitful and uncertain flashes. The age of dedi- cation, in which the poet, by feeding the vanity of the great, by " Heaping the shrine of luxury and pride With incense kindled at the Muse's flame," had managed to bring his works before the public, was ^* expiring through flattery." The Bookseller system, by which writers at first received a starving pittance from the publisher, was only just beginning, so that by this means the best writers of the day could barely secure a liveli- hood. The great world had not yet become the audience of the poet ; and the bookseller's customers were conse- quently confined to the few. Such a period could not but be one of great privation and suffering to those who had '* fallen upon these evil days." " Even an author," sciys Lord Macaulay, " whose reputation was established and whose works were popular, such an author as Thomson, whose Seasons were in every library, such an author as Fielding, whose Pasqum had had a greater run than any drama since the Beggars' Opera, was sometimes glad to obtain, by pawning his best coat, the means of dining on tripe at a cookshop underground, where he could wipe his hands, after his greasy meal, on the back of a New foundland dog." If there i". any truth in what Dr. Cheyne of Bath told Thomson, " that as you put birds' eyes out to u tl tl c< GENERAL INTRODUCTION. XllI ' which the lit- )oses of )r " tear le dark I cared. )etry, so support, o revive of dedi- y of the blic, was stem, by from the is means t a UveU- audience •e conse- d not but who had lor," says shed and rhomson, luthor as than any es glad to dining on )uld wipe )f a New r. Cheyne yes out to I I make them sing the sweeter, so you should keep poets poor to animate their genius," the latter were in a suita- ble condition for their labor. A few, like Churchill, by making poetry a vehicle for political satire and party strife, had succeeded in gaining the ear of the cabinet, and consequently in receiving such material assistance as it was able to afford. But even this sort of patronage was hastening to an end, for it had been employed only for the support of party, and the right of the Press to discuss public affairs was no sooner established than " the hacks of Grub-street were super- seded by publicists of a high moral temper and literary excellence ; and philosophers like Coleridge or statesmen like Canning turned to influence public opinion through the columns of the Press." Thus poet and pamphleteer were abandoned to the neglect described by Crabbe in his Newspaper : " A daily swarm, that banish everj* Muse, Come flying^ forth, and mortals call them Nkws : For these, unread, the noblest volumes lie ; For these, in sheets, unsoiled, the Muses die." From this brief survey of the literary, moral, and politi- « cal phases of the period in which Gray and Goldsmith lived and wrote, the student will be able to form such an estimate of its leading characteristics, and to apprehend so much of its general features, as will assist him in understanding the relation in which these poets stand to the history and development of the poetical literature of the language, and in comprehending something of the condition of these poets, and of the more important opin- ions, tendencies, and influences which united to produce their poetical theory, and largely to determine the form and the spirit of their productions. !; • I ! , i CHRONOLOGICAL PARALLEL. A. D. KXGLISir HISTORY AND LlTKKATrKK. LIKE OK OKAY, LIKK OK GOLDSMITH. 1710 Garrick b. Septenniai Born Dooember 2Gth Bill. 1 1718'Pariiellrf. Eusden,PoetI Laureate. [ 1719 Addison d. \ 1720 South Sea Bubble. 1721 Collins b. Robertson b. j VValpole, premier. i 1722 Atterbury impeached, j I .los. War ton b. 1 1723 Adam Smith b. 1724 The Drapier Letters, j 1725 Pope's Homer's Odys-^ I «''?/• ' ' 1720 Gulliver's Travels. \ Thomson's Winter. \ 1727 Accession of George II. i 17"?, Percy b. Thos. Warton ! b. Pope's DiDiciad. 1729 Congreve d. Steele d. 1730iC;ulley Gibber, Poet i Laureate. Burke b. 1731 Defoe (/. Cowper />. 1732 Cumberland b. Gay d. 1733 Pope's Essay on Man (2ndpt.). Excise Bill. 1734 1735 Beattie?>, Pope's J/orai j Essays. 1730! Porteous Riots. 1737; Gibbon b. Green d. 1738;MePherson b. John- son's London. 17391 1740 Sir Philip Francis b. 1741 Richardson's Pamela. 1742 Walpole resigns. 1743 Savage rf. The Pelhams. 1744, Pope d. 1745 Swift d. Walpole d The ' Forty-five 1740 1747 ,Born November 10th. JFamily leave Pallas for i Lissoy. Sent to Miss Delap. Goes to Cambridge. Sent to school to Byrne. |To Rev. Mr. Grittin's. I Leaves University. I Goes to the Continent. To Rev. Mr.Campbell's. Returns to England. JTo Rev. Pat'k Hughes'. Begins Eleyy. Writes Ode on Spring and Ode on Eton College Takes B.C. L. Enters Trinity College. I Meets Mason, Ode oh' His father dies. Cat. Ode on Eton College. XIV CIIROx\OI.OGICAL PARALLEL XV (LDBMlTll. •ember 10th. ■ave Pallas for ic,s Delap. choolto Byrne. Mr. Grirtln's. Mr.Catnpbell's. ,Pat'kHu«MlTII. 1748 Thomson . C^aebec taken. At British Museum. 1760j /'ot'm.s- o/ Osaiu a. Ac- I cession of George 11 F.! 1761 Richardson d. i 1762 'Lord Bute, premier.! I North Briton. \ 1763 Literary Club founded. I (irenville Ministrv. i 1764!Right of the Press to, Tour to Kent, discuss public affairs ' first established. 1765 Rockingham takes of- Tour to Scotland. I flee. Yomig d. Pcr- I cii's Ri'llques. j 1766 1 Mosaic Ministry. Writes for Monthly Review. Fails at Examination. Life iif Voltaire. In- (jxiiry. The Bee. Writes" for British Ma- (fnzine and Public Lrdijer. Citizen of the World. Life of Beau Na.ih. \Hi.sfory of England. Trnveller. Experimental Philoso- phy. Viear of Wakefield. Collection of Esunyx. 1788iSterne(/. (Jrafton takes Professor of History. Good- Natured Man office. Fatal Sisterx. i7(i9\fjetters o/ ./uniun. Installation Ode. I Tour to Cumberland. 1770! Lord North takes ottice. j Wordsworth ?>. Chat-] I terton (/. I 1771)Walter Scott 6. i i Death, 30th Jul v. 1772 Coleridge b. \ 1773 I 1774 Soutliey b. Lord Clivej d. I M. B. at Oxford. Roman I flifitory. iDeNerted Village. Life ] of Parnell. Life of \ Bolingbroke. llaaneh of Venigon. English History. \She .stoops to Conquer. 'Death, 4th April; Buri- , al, 9th April. Retail- i ation. Animated I Mature. : f i b cl il n( el hi Sll LIFE OF GOLDSMITH. When the assembled wits had decided to place the best epitaph upon Uryden's tomb that had ever been chiselled, Atterbury exclaimed, " ' Dryden ' iz enough ; they who know his works, want no more, they who do not know them, would not be enlightened by the most eloquent eulogy." True as these words are of Dryden, they are even more applicable to Goldsmith. As we read his works, his character gradually unfolds itself with each successive page, and we become familiar with the virtues, the weaknesses, and the foibles of our author. In one part or other of his writings, he has left us a complete autobiography of himself, drawn by a faithful, yet gentle hand. We smile and sympathize, or admire and love, as we meet, on every page, a genial, easy, and unceasing flow of good humor, good sense, and good feeling ; as we see, in every character he has sketched, his own art- less benevolence an-^ fitfulness, his kindness and way- wardness, or trace in their blunderings and buffetings, the mischances, ludicrous scenes, or laughable mistakes of his own life. The Goldsmiths were a respectable, but unthrifty race, whose '• hearts were in the right place, but whose heads seemed to be doing anything but what they ought." Accordingly the Rev. Charles Goldsmith, Oliver's father, married very young and very poor, and so was obliged for some years to " pray and starve" on forty pounds a year, in a small rural curacy at Pallas, a remote hamlet in the county of Longford, in Ireland, It was here that A I 2 \AIK OF GOLDSMITH. Oliver, the second son of a family of four sons antl two dauj^^hters, was born, on the loth of November, 1728. While he was yet a child, his father was presented to the rectorship of Kilkenny West, in Westmeath, worth ^200 a year. The family consequently exchanged the antique mansion and lonely wilds of Pallas for an elegant rectory situated on the busy high-road leading to Lissoy. Here, Oliver spent his boyhood days, and here, he received his early education. When only about three years old, he was sent to an old lady's private school to learn his letters. At the end of four years, she pronounced him a dunce, and passed him over to the hands of the village schoolmaster, Thomas (or, as the boys had it, Paddy) Byrne. Byrne, educated lor a teacher, had enlisted in the army, served abroad in Que* n Anne's time, and had risen to the rank of ciuarter-master. On his return from ser- vice, he had engaged to drill the urchins of Lissoy in reading, writing and arithmetic ; but, like many a teacher whose knowledge is limited, yet whose tongue is facile, he gilded over his deficiencies by entertaining his won- dering; scholais with an exhaustless fund of stories. In- stead of teaching them their lessons, he told them stories of ghosts and banshees, of robbers and pirates, of rap- parees and smugglers, of the exploits of Peterborough and Stanhope, and of various incidents in which Thomas Byrne was the hero. Besides his facility in story-telling, he was an enthusiastic admirer of the ancient Irish bards whom he fancied he could imitate. Such a tutor was just the person to produce deep and lasting impressions on the imaginative mind of young Oliver who, before he was eight years of age, had begun to scribble verses of poetry. Some of these lines coming under the notice of his mother, she readily perceived that her son was a poetical genius, and from that time urged upon his father LfFK OF GOLDSMITH. and two 31-, 1728. ^d to the rth ^200 J antique t rectory '. Here, received /ears old, learn his :ed him a le village t, Paddy) ted in the had risen from ser- Lisso> in a teacher is facile, his won- ries. In- m stories s, of rap- rboroiigh Thomas ry-telling, ish bards utor was pressions before he verses of notice of )n was a his father the necessity of giving the lad an education befitting his abilities. The expense of educating his eldest son, Henry, had so straitened the father's narrow income, that he had determined to put Oliver to a trade ; but the mother's earnest solicitations won the day, and it was de- cided to give him a University education. Hence, on his recovery from a severe attack of small-pox, he was placed under the care of the Rev. M'* Griffin, of Elphin. One evening while here, when n number of young people had assembled at his uncle's for a dance, the fiddler, turn- ing Oliver's short clumsy figure and pock-marked face into ridicule, called him " .4isop.'' This was too much for his sensitive nature, and stopping short, he replied : " Heralds proclaim aloud this saying See ^^sop dancing and his monkey playing." This repartee raised him greatly in the estimation of i^s friends, se\ eral of whom — especially his uncle, the Rev. Thomas Contarine- contributed means to place him in a school possessing advantages superior to those atforded at Elphin. He was therefore removed to a school kept by the Rev. Mr. Campbell, at Athlone, and, after two years, transferred to one at Edgeworthstown, under the supervision of the Rev. Patrick Hughes. He does not appear to have been distinguished at any of these schools — except, indeed, by his easy, idle disposi- tion, and blundering manners. No favorite with the teacher, he was the leader in the sports of the play- ground, and never hindmost in any schcolboy prank. With this preparation, he was sent up to Trinity Col- lege, Dublin. He was now in his seventeenth year, eccentric, idle, and thoughtless. His sister having mar- ried a wealthy gentleman, named Hodson, her father deemed it a point of honor to furnish her with a suitable dowry, and, acting on this impulse, so embarrassed the family circumstances, that it was found impossible to m \\\ 4 LIFE OF GOLDSMITH. give Oliver the same advantages as his brother, Henry, He accordingly entered College, as a sizar. The sizars paid nothing for tuition or board, and only a trifle for the rooms, but were required to perform various menial duties around the college. This, as might be expected, was very galling to the proud spirit of young Oliver ; yet, while enduring these indignities, in order to enjoy the advanta;^es of the institution, he neglected his studies, quarrelled with his tutor, received a public reprimand for joining in an attack on a bailiff, violated the college rules by giving a supper and dance to some of his city friends, won an exhibition of thirty shillings, and was turned to the foot for playing buffoon in his class. While he was at Dublin his father died, leaving the family very poorly provided for, so that Oliver's situation became still more painful. To relieve his necessities he occasionally wrote songs, sold them for five shillings each, and then squandered the money. However, by the aid of his uncle, he was enabled to remain at college till he took his degree in 1749. He then returned home, spending three years, partly with his mother, who had taken a small cottage at Ballymahon, and partly with his brother-in-law, Hodson, at Lissoy. He was now twenty- one, and it became necessary to decide on some profes- sion. His friends urged him to enter the church. After some difficulty his objections were withdrawn, and he began to qualify himself for Orders. The time for his ordination came. He presented himself to the bishop, dressed in scarlet breeches, and was, in consequence, rejected. He then became tutor in a wealthy family, but threw up the situation in a dispute over a game of cards. On receiving his wages he bought a fine horse, and set out for Cork, intending to sail for America ; but after six weeks he returned home on a wretched nag and without ^ eel TJFE OF r.OLDSMITII. er, Henry. The sizars ■ifle for the lus menial 2 expected, )liver ; yet, f enjoy the lis studies, jrimand for ollege rules city friends, s turned to leaving the ir's situation ;cessities he ve shillings ^ever, by the t college till irned home, er, who had irtly with his now twenty- ome profes- Lurch. After awn, and he time for his the bishop, consequence, ly family, but ime of cards, orse, and set but after six and without a penny in his pocl»^t. Next he determined to study law. His friends provided him with a purse of fifty pounds, with which he set out for London, but on liis way he met an old acquaintance at Dublin, who took him to a gambling-house and stripped him of his money. At the suggestion of Dean (ioldsmith of Cloyne, a distant relative, he then determined to study physic. His trust- ing friends again subscribed the funds, and he set out for Edinburgh, where he arrived in the autumn of 1752. Here he remained for eighteen months, studying, riding into the Highlands, gambling, singing Irish songs, or telling Irish stories. At the end of that time, he per- suaded his good uncle, Contarine, to furnish him with funds to complete his medical studies at the University of Leyden. For Leyden he forthwith left Edinburgh. On arriving at this famous University, he recommenced his studies and his gambling. What progress he made in the former is uncertain, but, by the latter, he soon lost the last shilling of the ^33, with which he had left Scot- land. His friend, Ellis, lent him a few pounds with which to return to Paris, but he genfously spent the whole, in purchasing some costly tulip roots for his aflectionate uncle. Penniless and proud, he now determined to make a tour of the Continent on foot, and so with one spare shirt, a flute, and a guinea, he set out on his journey, visiting France, Germany, Switzerland, and Italy. In the story of the " Philosophic Vagabond," in the Vicar of Wakefield^ he has given us some delightful reminis- cences of his experiences in these wanderings, •' Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow," in which he made those observations upon t'ne peculiar characteristics of the various countries and their inhab- itants, which he has, in his own easy, graceful style, recorded for the delight of all future ages, in the Travel- H 6 MI'K OF GOLDSMITH. ler. At Padua he remained for sonic months. Here, it is probable, his medical studies were resumed, and from this University, he tells us, he received his medical degree. His generous uncle, whose slender remittances had never entirely ceased, died about this time, and the wan- derer was compelled to seek his native shore. So after two years of roaming about on the Continent, he landed at Dover in 1756. " Without friends, recommendation, money, or impu- dence," he arrived in London. Here, his flute had no attractions, nor could his philosophy supply his wants. He was compelled to seek other employment. He tried to turn his medical knowledge to advantage, but without avail. He then became strolling-player, but his face and figure soon drove him from the boards. Next, he is found pounding drugs in a chemist's laboratory near Fish Street. Through the friendship of Dr. Sleigh, an old fellow-student, he was enabled to commence the practice of physic in Bankside, Southwark, but his patients were chiefly among the poorest and humblest classes of society. To eke out the miserable pittance thus received, he began to do some hack-work for the booksellers. A few months later, and we find him usher in a school kept by Dr. Mil- ner, at Peckham. His bitter experiences in this situation, he has left us in a lively sketch in the sixth number of the Be'^ and in the history of " George Primrose." While thus employed, Mr. Griffiths, proprietor of the Monthly Review f being in need of inci"eased writers in order to cope with the opposition which he now met from the Critical Review under the able conduct of Dr. Smollett, engaged Goldsmith for a year, at a small regular salary, with board and lodging. Irksome as the slavery of an usher had been, the vassalage of the bookseller and his critical wife was still more unbearable. At the end ot tH g\ st itl b c\ C( A A I . Here, it , and from cal clcj^^rce. anccs had id the wan- ;. So after , he landed y, or impu- ute had no • his wants. t. He tried but without his face and Next, he is >ry near Fish eigh, an old : the practice patients were 5es of society, ved, he began \ few months )t by Dr. Mil- this situation, number of the rose." While ■ the Monthly ■s in order to met from the f Dr. Smollett, regular salary, : slavery of an kseller and his At the end ot LIMO OK (iOI-DSMlTH. 7 five months, tlie engagement was broken off. After some further occasional and ill-paid coiUributions to various Reviews, he returned in dcLp want to Dr. Milner's, and took charge of the school during the Doctor's illness. He next received .1 medical appointment in the service of tlic Kast India Company. To raise monev for the expected xoyage, he set to work to write a treatise to be entitled ./// Ifujuiry into the l^rcscnt State of rolite Li'iwnini^ in Eiiropc ; but before it was comj^leted the appointment had been cancelled. He then presented himself for examination as hosi)ital mate. The suit of clothes in which he appeared had been secured by writing four articles for (iriffUhs' Monthly Review, lie failed at the examination, and pawned the unpaid-for cloth, js to relieve his landlady's distress. The Life of Voltaire was written at this time, to pacify the demand of (jrit^iths for the return of the suit of clothes and the books he had reviewed. In 1759, appeared the Ijiqidry, a work of little value now-a-days, but which, to the grace and charm of its style, added much that then commanded public attention. This was the age of periodicals, and Goldsmith must needs have his. The Bee first appeared on the 6th of October, 1759. It was to be issued every Saturday, and the price w.is threepence. It was filled with essays in great variety, penned in Cioldsmith's neat and elegant style, but it failed to charm the public of the day; and its short career of eight weeks closed on the 29th of November. Whilst publishing the Bee, Goldsmith had been writing for other periodicals, iiicBusy Body and the Critical Revieiu. He soon after became an important contributor to the British Mai^asine zwA to the Public I.edi(er. The series of letters which appeared in the Lecij^er was afterwards republished under the title of the i: ' Citizen of the World. These letters, purporting to be addressed by a Chinese traveller to his friends at home, contain some lively and humorous sketches of English society, and have been "justly praised, for their fresh original perception, their delicate delineation of life and manners, their wit*and humor, their playful and diverting satire, their exhilarating gaiety, and their clear and lively style." Two other anonymous works were published about this time, The Life of Bean Nash^ and The History of Eni^/and i?t a Series of Letters from a Noblematt to his Son. The latter became exceedingly popular, and was attributed in turn to Lords Chesterfield, Orrery, and Lyttleton. It was during these years that Goldsmith became acquainted with several of the distinguished literary characters of the time. Dr. Percy, renowned for his collection of English ballads, had some years before introduced himself to Goldsmith while the latter sat " writing his Inqniry in a wretched, dirty room in which there wns but one chair, and when he, from civility, offered it to his visitor, was obliged himself to sit in the window." He managed to bring about a meeting between Goldsmith and the great literary autocrat of the period. Dr. Johnson. Among his acquaintances, also, were now the distinguished painters, Hogarth and Reynolds. At the house of Reynolds, he was introduced to more notable company than he had yet been accustomed to meet; and on the formation of the Literary Club in 1763, he was invited to become one of its members. This club which was suggested by Reynolds, originally consisted jf Johnson, Burke, Beauclerc, Nugent, Bennet, Langton, Hawkins, Chamier, Reynolds, and Goldsmith. Its meetings were held once a week at the Turk's-head iiin. LIFE OF GOLDSMITH. Ling to be s at home, 3f English heir fresh of life and d diverting and lively ,hed about History of man to his r, and was Orrery, and tith became led literary 'ned for his years before tie latter sat om in which rom civility, to sit in the iting between if the period, iso, were now nolds. At the more notable , to meet; and 1763, he was lis club which consisted of tnet, Langton, Idsmith. Us irk's-head iiin, in Gerrard-street, wSoho, and its conversations exercised no little influence on the literature of the time. Bui th^^ugh Goldsmith's circumstances were now greatly im- proved, life still seems to have been a straggle with him. Sometimes he revelled in plenty, but oftener was pining in want. One morning in the winter of 1764, he sent for Dr. Johnson, to come to him immediately, as he was in trouble. Johnson sent him a guinea, and as bOon as he was dressed called to see him. He found that Goldsmith had changed the guinea, and procured a bottle of Madeira, over which he was disputing with his landlady who had that morning arrested him for arrears of rent. Johnson replaced the cork, and begged his friend to calm himself and consider how the money was to be obtained. The latter thereupon produced a novel upon which he had been engaged. After glancing over the manuscript, Johnson perceived that the work possessed rare merit, went out, sold it to a bookseller for ^60, brought back the money, and the rent was paid. The novel which thus passed into the hands of the publisher, but which lay unprinted for upwards of two years, was the Vi'^ar of Wakefield. Goldsmith was not yet known to the public as an author, and the bookseller had probably made his bargain de- pending largely on the judgment of Johnson. Soon all this was to be changed, for he was to have a reputation of his own, that would not only warrant the publication of the Vicar, but give his future productions a ready popularity. In 1764, the Traveller was published, and (Goldsmith was at once recognized as a poet of genuine worth. The ablest critics of the day joined in lauding the poem as worthy of a high place amongst our English classics, and Johnson, under whose fostering care it had been com- pleted, introduced it to the public by a kindly notice in . i |a.M(^ p n "* HW! i' wa p . ii lO LIFE OF GOLDSMrrH. I 'i ! the Critical Review. The appearance of the Traveller was the great turning point in (loldsmith's career. It raised him in the estimation of the booksellers, opened his way into better society, and introduced him to the notice of the gueat. The Earl of Northumberland ex- pressed a desire to serve him, but the generous-hearted poet recommended his brother Henry, sayin^^- of himself " that he looked to the booksellers for support, that they were his best friends, and that he was not inclined to forsake them for others." He took advantage of his present popularity to collect and republish many of his essays which had appeared anonymously in various periodicals; and, that he might have some permanent means of support, again resumed the medical profession, hoping that he might now secure a higher class of patients; but meeting only disappoint- ment, he soon abandoned it in disgust, to return to the service of his old " patrons."' The fourth edition of the 7>rt;z^6'//d'r had just been issued, and Goldsmith was enjoying the reputation of being the first poet of his age, when the Vicar of Wakefield was published. This charming novel of English domestic life, the earliest of its kind, was at tirst but coldly received by the Club, the leading journals of the day, and the higher classes of society. Yet, surely, if slowly, it grew in favor. Three editions were printed within four months, and the author lived to see it translated into several con- tinental languages. Its plot is confused, and many of the incidents are highly improbable, but its quiet humor and lively wit amuse us at every turn and sparkle on every page. It overflows with a kindly sympathy for the fail- ings of the race ; and the characters are drawn with such truth to nature, that they cannot fail to reach the heart. Us moral, too, is excellent — to show us how our lives LIFE OF GOLDSMITH. II livelier feer. It opened 1 to the and ex- -hearted himself hat they Uned to ;o collect appeared he might resumed nv sei are isappoint- u-n to the ;en issued, being the ejield was domestic [y received ', and the dy, it grew ur months, everal con- nan y of the humor and e on every for the fail- n with such h the heart. kV our lives may be made happy by " patience in suffering, perse- vering reliance on the providence of (]od, quiet labor, and an indulgent forgiveness of the faults of others." Little wonder that such a book has passed from country to country, and obtained a wider popularity than any other of its kind. The celebrity which Goldsmith won by the publication of the Travello' and Vicar materially raised his social standing, but did not equally improve his circumstances. Debts and drudgery were still his portion. He was com- pelled to toil for the booksellers as before, with this difference, that his services now received a better re- muneration. In the midst of this thankless labor, his leisure was devoted to work of another kind. He had won laurels as a poet, and as a novelist ; now he was embold- ened to try his fortune as a writer of comedy. His first attempt, the Good-Naiured Man, was acted at Covent Garden in 1768. It had been finished early in the pre- ceding year, but, though recommended by Johnson, Burke, and Reynolds, he had much difficulty in inducing the managers to accept it. Its reception at a time when sentimentalism was the rage, could not be hearty; yet the author received from his benefit nights and from the sale of the copyright upwards of ;£5oo, a sum many times larger than he had received for any of his previous writings. The plot of the Good-Natiired Man, like all Goldsmith's plots, is very imperfect, but in rharacter, repartee, and humor, this comedy has few superiors. Yet at the time when it was brought on the stage its very excellencies were its ruin. Anything that moved the audience to laughter was sure to be " hissed " from pit to boxes; and accordingly the very scene which Goldsmith considered the best- -and posterity has endorsed his opinion was received with marked disapprobation, based upon character and humor. The pubHc taste still demanded the senti- mental comedv of Cumberland and Kellv, and scouted everything that tended to produce boisterous mirth. The fun of Goldsmith's first comedy had driven it from the boards, and the fun of this one was uproarious when compared with it. It was brought out by Coleman, at Covent Garden. The actors, as well as the managers, are said to have had little hopes of its success. But all were disappointed, when pit, and galleries, and boxes, rang with peal upon peal of uncontrollable laughter. The play ran on every night for the remainder cf the season, and is one of the very few comedies of the time which still retain possession of the stage. But Goldsmith's receipts from the success of the Good-Natured Man were not paid in fame alone, for he reaped a rich pecuniary harvest. Yet all the monev he received and all he could manage to raise on works to be written, but not yet begun, were insufficient to satisfv the demands of his creditors, or to brighten his prospects for the future. We find him trying to forget his troubles by a visit to the country, by attendance at the Club, and by frequent- ing gay society. But it was all in vain. His unfinished but prepaid engagements became doubly burdensome, as presenting no means of relief. Though his " knack at hoping" seemed to be failing him, yet he was full of plans, and at times was hard at work. He had almost completed his Animated Nature and Grecian History^ was preparing a third e('.ition of his History of England, revising his Inquiry, translating Scarron's Cojnlc Romance, and arranging his papers for the most extensive work he had ever yet contemplated—^ Popular Dictionary of l.l! IJFK OF GOLDSMITH. «5 -^■ Arts and Scienji's. His plans for this Dictionary^ though cheei fully cMitertained by his friends, did not secure the conrtdence of the booksellers, and the work was never completed. In the midst of his disappointments and despondency, his poetical g^enius once more flashed forth in a little poem which he composed in reply to some gibing epitaphs written h\ his friends, while awaiting his usual late arrival at a dinner. Being unable to reply at the time he took to his pen, and with a few inimitable strokes sketched, in clear and vigorous language, the character of some nine or ten of his most intimate friends. He gave it the title of Retaliation^ l)ut, like his own generous nature, it had in it too much of the " milk of human kindness" to con- tain revenge. Short and unfinished as it is, its good sense and humorous raillery, its exquisite discrimination and graphic truth, will always mark it as a masterpiece. But this facile pen must write no more. An illness, if not induced, at least aggravated, by his pressing necessi- ties and deranged circumstances, seized him while labor- ing under his present depression. He complained of pain in his head, and of fever. Contrary to the advice of his medical attendants, he persisted in taking some powders from which he had formerly obtained relief in other disorders. His malady flucaiated for some days, and hopes were even entertained of his recovery ; but his sleep left him, his mind was ill at ease, and his appe- tite was gone. At length he fell into a deep sleep from which he awoke in strong convulsions, which continued till death brought release on the 4th of April, 1774. He was in his forty-sixth year. His death produced a deep sen- sation among his friends. On hearing he was dead, liurke burst into tears, and Reynolds laid up his pencil for the remainder of the day. A public funeral and a f i6 LIFE OF GOLDSMITH. I M tomb in Westminster were at first proposed, but sybse- quently given up, and he was privately interred in the burying ground of the Temple Church. Shortly after his death, a cenotaph was erected to his memory in West- minster Abbey. NoUekens was the sculptor, and the inscription was written by Dr. Johnson. Of all our English writers there is none over whose memory the reader lingers with more affectionate remem- brance than over that of Goldsmith. Not that his cha- racter was faultless ; fVir from it. There is much to admire, but also much to regret. He was a compound of weakness and strength, and his life was full of incon- sistencies. His head was ever devising plans which he lacked resolution and energy to carry out. Indolence and procrastination were part of his very nature. At school his lessons were neglected for some idle sport. At college he feasted his city friends, and graduated last on the list of Sizars. Of these habits the booksellers had always to complain; and for this reason they rejected the scheme of his proposed Dictionary. Few men were more ambitious than he, and his ambition led him at times to put forth great, if spasmodic, efforts to win the praise which he heard bestowed upon others. He strove to outshine Johnson in conversation, but his attempts brought upon him the derision of the Club. His vanity led him into exhibitions of jealousy, and even of envy. His extreme sensibility made him writhe under the jests of which he was made the object, but his for 'iving nature could never avenge the insults heaped upon him. It need not for a moment be supposed that Goldsmith had more of envy, jealousy, and vanity than many of his associates, but his blundering, outspoken, and transparent nature made his failings more conspicuous. He was frivolous, improvident, profuse and sensual. Hisbenevo- LIFE OF GOLDSMITH. »7 ybse- n the er his Wcst- i\ the A^hose mem- s cha- ich to pound incon- ich he olence ;. At sport, ed last sellers ected were lim at 'in the strove empts ty led His ;sts of ature L. It h had of his arent was nevo- lence often outran his judgment, for the softness of his heart could hear no tale of distress without attempting whatever assistance lay in his power to relieve it. Though he had graduated at Trinity College, and had professedly studied for the church and the medical pro- fession, yet there was not a single subject of which he could be said to be master. He knew nothing thoroughly. His prose writings exhibit no evidences of depth or close examination, but are superficial and inaccurate. But whatever he knew he could tell with clearness, and sur round with charming interest. When he looks within his own heart and gives utterance to the feelings which fill his breast, he expresses himself with a naturalness, a grace, and a tenderness, which bespeak the true poet and the man of broad and deep human sympathy. But when he goes beyond his own experiences, he always blunders, always fails. Happily, he has generally con- fined himself to subjects in which his acute and varied observation gave him a power that has largely com- pensated for his lack of imagination. His style is the perfection of ease. There is no straining after effect, no ponderous phrases, no heavily-turned periods. His words are aptly chosen, his diction select and terse, his language felicitous, and his taste excellent. Dealing chiefly with familiar topics, he always keeps above vulgarity, but he is at times justly chargeable with care- lessness and want of precision in the construction of his sentences. In palliation of this, it may be said, that many of his productions were completed in great haste, under pressing necessities, and are not therefore fairly open to criticism. In everything he has written, there is an easy grace and elegance which have always made his writings popular, and which bid fair to perpetuate his fame as long as our language endures. A 2 1 pre it i sol- an c at J tou it ti he anc arti any abc ber sole smi ben twe gre; cou erty brol caul neit M THE TRAVELLER; OR A PROSPECT OF SOCIETY. INTRODUCTION. Al/iHOLUiH conjecture is the only guide as to the precise character of the earliest sketch of this poem, yet it is known, that it was first begun during Goldsmith's solitary wanderings in Switzerland about the year I755> and sent home to his brother Henry, at that time a curate at Lissoy. The poet had kept it by him for several years, touching and retouching it. At last he ventured to shew it to Dr. Johnson who was so much pleased with it that he assisted in its completion, encouraged its publication, and, on its appearance, called public attention to it by an article in which he declared it would be difficult to find anything equal to it since tlie death of Pope- a period of about 20 years. It was published on the 19th of Decem- ber 1764, but bears date 1765. Printed in quarto, and sold at one shilling and sixpence, it was the first of Gold- smith's works to which he had prefixed his name. New- berry was the publisher ; and from him the poet received twenty guineas for the manuscript. Overlooking the great men, whose favor it might have given fortune to court by a dedication, the poet from the midst of his pov- erty dedicated the poem, with genuine affection, to his brother Henry. But, though the author took every pre- caution, that he might bury his production in obscurity, neither devoting it to political warfare, nor seeking the 19 ! I 20 INTRODUCTION. pntron.if^'C of the raise. They please, are pleased ; they give to get esteem, Till, seeming blest, they grow to what they seem. 35 265 But while this softer art their bliss supplies, It gives their follies also room to rise ; For praise too dearly loved, or warmly sought. Enfeebles all internal strength of thought ; 270 And the weak soul, within itself unblest, Leans for all pleasure on another's breast. Hence ostentation here, with tawdry art. Pants for the vulgar praise which fools impart ; Here vanity assumes her pert grimace, 2715 And trims her robes of frieze with copper lace ; Here beggar pride defrauds her daily cheer, To boast one splendid banquet once a year : The mind still turns where shifting fashion draws Nor weighs the solid worth of self-applause. 280 To men of other minds my fancy flies, Embosomed in the deep where Holland lies. Methinks her patient sons before me stand, Where the broad ocean leans against the land, And, sedulous to stop the coming tide, 285 Lift the tall rampire's artificial pride. Onward, methinks, and diligently slow. The firm connected bulwark seems to grow, 36 THE TRAVELLER. Spreads its long arms amidst the watery roar, Scoops out an empire, and usurps the shore ; 290 While the pent ocean, rising o'er the pile, Sees an amphibious world beneath him smile ; The slow canal, the yellow- blossomed vale, The willow-tufied bank, the gliding sail. The crowded mart, the cultivated plain ; 295 A new creation rescued from his reign. Thus, while around the wave-subjected soil Impels the native to repeated toil, Industrious habits in each bosom reign, And industry begets a love of gain. 300 Hence all the good from opulence that springs, With all those ills superfluous treasure brings, Are here displayed. Their much-loved wealth imparts Convenience, plenty, elegance, and arts ; But view them closer, craft and fraud appear, 305 Even liberty itself is bartered here. At gold's superior charms all freedom flies ; The needy sell it, and the rich man buys : A land of tyrants, and a den of slaves, Here wretches seek dishonorable graves, 310 And calmly bent, to servitude conform. Dull as their lakes that slumber in the storm. Heavens ! how unlike their Belgic sires of old — Rough, poor, content, ungovernably bold, War in each breast, and freedom on each brow ; 315 How much unlike the sons of Britain now \ 290 295 300 parts 305 310 315 Fin Andf Wher Andt There There Creati Extrei Stern With Pride I see 1 Intent Byfoi Fierce True t While Andli Thi Thine Too b But fo Thati Keeps The s< All ck Here 1 Minds THE TRAVELLER. .37 Fired at the sound, my genius spreads her wing, And flies where Britain courts the western spring ; Where lawns extend that scorn Arcadian pride, And brighter streams than famed Hydaspes gHde. 320 There all around the gentlest breezes stray, There gentle music melts on every spray ; Creation's mildest charms are there combined, Extremes are only in the master's mind. Stern o'er each bosom Reason holds her state, 325 With daring aims irregularly great ; Pride in their port, defiance in their eye, I see the lords of human kind pass by ; Intent on high designs, a thoughtful band, By forms unfashioned, fresh from Nature's hand, 330 Fierce in their native hardiness of soul, True to imagined right, above control ; While even the peasant boasts these rights to scan. And learns to venerate himself as man. Thine, Freedom, thine the blessings pictured here, 335 Thine are those charms that dazzle and endear ; Too blest, indeed, were such without alloy. But fostered even by freedom, ills annoy. That independence Britons prize too high. Keeps man from man, and breaks the social tie ; 340 The self-dependent lordlings stand alone. All claims that bind and sweeten life unknown : Here by the bonds of nature feebly held, Minds combat minds, repelling and repelled ; 38 THE TRAVELLER. Ferments arise, imprisoned factions roar, 345 Represt ambition struggles round her shore, Till, over-wrought, the general systenj ^p els Its motions stop, or frenzy fire the wheels. Nor this the worst. As nature's ties decay. As duty, love, and honor fail to sway, 350 Fictitious bonds, the bonds of wealth and law. Still gather strength, and force unwilling awe. Hence all obedience bows to these alone. And talent sinks, and merit weeps unknown ; Till time may come, when, stript of all her charms, 355 The land of scholars, and the nurse of arms. Where noble stems transmit the patriot flame. Where kings have toiled, and poets wrote for fame. One sink of level avarice shall He, And scholars, soldiers, kings, unhonored die. 360 Yet think not, thus when freedom's ills I state, I mean to flatter kings or court the great. Ye powers of truth, that bid my soul aspire. Far from my bosom drive the low desire. And thou, fair Freedom, taught alike to feel The rabble's rage and tyrant's angry steel ; Thou transitory flower, alike undone By proud contempt, or favor's fostering sun, Still may thy blooms the changeful clime endure ! I only would repress them to secure : For just experience tells, in every soil. That those who think must govern those that toil ; 365 370 345 350 355 36o 365 370 And Is bu Henc Its d O Who Calm Exce But \ Cont Whe To c Each Lawj The Pillai Fear Tear Till] I fly Ye Whe And Gav( Hav( Her Seen Like THE TRAVELLER. And all that freedom's highest aims can reach, Is but to lay proportioned loads on each. Hence, should one order disproportioned grow, Its double weight must ruin all below. 30 375 O then how blind to all that truth requires. Who think it freedom when a part aspires ! Calm is my soul, nor apt to rise in arms, Except when fast-approaching danger warms : 380 But when contending chiefs blockade the throne. Contracting regal power to stretch their own ; When I behold a factious band agree To call it freedom when themselves are free ; Each wanton judge new penal statutes draw, 385 Laws grind the poor, and rich men rule the law ; The wealth of climes, where savage nations roam. Pillaged from slaves to purchase slaves at home ; Fear, pity, justice, indignation start. Tear off reserve, and bare my swelling heart ; 390 Till half a patriot, half a coward grown, I fly from petty tyrants to the throne. Yes, Brother, curse with me that baleful hour. When first ambition struck at regal power ; And thus polluting honor in its source, 395 Gave wealth to sway the mind with double force. Have we not seen, round Britain's peopled shore, Her useful sons exchanged for useless ore ? Seen all her triumphs but destruction haste, Like flaring tapers brightening as they waste ; 400 40 THE TRAVELLER. Seen opulence, her grandeur to maintain, Lead stern depopulation in her train. And over fields where scattered hamlets rose, In barren solitary pomp repose ? Have we not seen at pleasure's lordly call The smiling long-frequented village fall? Beheld the duteous son, the sire decayed, The modest matron and the blushing maid, Forced from their homes, a melancholy train, To traverse climes beyond the western main ; Where wild Oswego spreads her swamps around, And Niagara stuns with thundering sound ? 405 410 Even now, perhaps, as there some pilgrim strays Through tangled forests, and through dangerous ways. Where beasts with man divided empire claim, 41 5 And the brown Indian marks with murderous aim ; There, while above the giddy tempest fliej, And all around distressful yells arise. The pensive exile, bending with his woe, To stop too fearful, and too faint to go, 420 Casts a long look where England's glories shine, And bids his bosom sympathize with mine. Vain, very vain, my weary search to find That bliss which only centres in the mind : Why have I strayed from pleasure and repose. To seek a good each government bestows ? 425 405 4IO 415 420 425 i ;t In Tl H T] St o \^ G T L T L THE TRAVELLER. 4t In every governnir , though terrors reign, Though tyrant king:., or tyrant laws restrain, How small, of all ilat hu nan hearts endure, That p^rt whir:h laws or kings ca^^ cause or cure ! Still to ourselves in every place consigned, Our own felicity we make or find : With secret course, which no loud storms annoy. Glides the smooth current of domestic joy. The lifted axe, the agonizing wheel, Luke's iron crown, and Damiens' bed of steei, To men remote from power but rarely known, Leave reason, faith, and conscience, all our own. 430 435 vl.1 PRELIMINARY NOTES. POETRY. Poetical compositions may be variously classified. In res- pect to form and mode of treatment, they are Epic, Dramatic, or Lyric. With regard to their nature, tlie principal varieties are. Epic, Dramatic, Lyric, Pastoral, Satirical, Didactic, and Elegiac. Epic poetry is that variety which treats of some great event, or the exploits of heroes. An heroic poem generally embraces many characters and incidents, but is so constructed as to pre- serve unity of design. Dramatic poetry, like Epic, contains the relation of some important events, but differs from it in this, that in Epic poetry the author himself narrates the events forming its subject, but in Dramatic, the action is represented by the different characters from whose dialogues the story is to be gathered. Lyric poetry is so called because originally written to be sung to the lyre. It now embraces such short, animated poetical compositions as the Ode, Song, Hymn, and Ballad. Pastoral poetry describes shepherd-life. Satirical poetry exposes the weaknesses, follies, or crimes of men, and holds them up to ridicule and scorn. Didactic poetry aims to instruct rather than to please. Being devoted to the exposition or enforcement of some abstract theory, it is dry and uninteresting, unless richly ornamented. Young's Night Thoughts^ Pope's Essay on Man, and Cowper's Task are examples of this variety. Goldsmith's Traveller may be classed under this head, as it has a proposed theory to enforce. Elegiac poetry treats of solemn or mourntul subjects. Among the few poems of this class in English, are Pope's Elegy on an Unfortunate Lady, Tennyson's In Memoriani, Wordsworth's Elegiac Stanzas, and, best of all, Gray's Elegy in a Country Church-yard. 43 44 PRELIMINARY NOTES. VKRSIFICATION. Mktrk. — Hoth the Tya7>clh'r and the AV<;i,'J are written in Iambic Pentameter measure which is frequently called heroic verse, as it is used in l'4)ic or Heroic poems. Each line con- sists of five Iambic feet, i)X ten syllables. An Iami)ic fool is composed of an unaccented followed by an accented syllable, as appear. The Traveller is written in rhymini; couplets, and the Elegy in the (piatrain, or stanza of four lines which rhyme alter- nately. The rhyming couplet in its artificial perfection under Poj)e became highly epigrammatic, each couplet being, for the most part, complete in itself and often forming a contrast. In the hands of Goldsmith, there are fre([uent deviations from this strict regularity, which afford the poet greater ease and natural- ness in his descriptions. Pauses. — There are usually three pauses in each verse ; the Punctuation pause which divides the line according to the sense, the Final pause which marks the end of each line to the ear, and the desural pause which affords a rest for the reader's voice. The cajsural pause is movable, and may occur after the 4th, 5th, 6th, or 7th syllable. Besides the caes- ural pause there are commonly two other inferior pauses, one before the ciesural, and the other after it. The former invaria- bly comes after the first long syllable ; the other imitates the cavsural pause, coming after the 6th, 7th, or 8th syllable. In the following lines the cajsural pause is marked by double lines, and the secondary pauses each by a single line : My soul, I turn from them, |i turn we | to survey Where rough |er climes J a nobler race | display, Where | the bleak Swiss || their storm jy mansion tread, And force j a churlish soil II for scanlty bread. Scansion. — ^The scansion of verses, or the division into feet, may be indicated in the following manner : 1. Remote', ] unfrien'|ded, mel'lanchoriy, slow'. 2. Lakes', for' jests, cit'|ies, plains' | extend' |ng wide'. 3. Boldly' I proclaims' | that hap'|piest spot' | his own'. 4. And Ni'|aga'|ra stuns' | with thun'|dering sound'. 5. With man'ly a tale' | repays' | his night' jly bed'. The first foot of line 2 consists of two syllables naturally long ami may therefore be regarded as a spondee. No. 4 is an example of a verse beginning with a trochee instead of an iam- bus. The extra syllable in line 4 is elided. In line 5 thejj/ may eithei- be elided, or the fool regarded as an anapest. NOTES. THE TRAVELLER. EPITOME. 1 The poet, after expressing the affection which he, while tra- velling in distant countries, still retains for his brother, invokes a blessing upon that happy home whose comforts he is destined never to share. He fancies himself, in his lonely wanderings, seated on a lofty Alpine peak in the contemplative spirit of a philosopher to morali/e on the scene spread out at his feet, not unsympathizingly but philanthroi)ically, rejoicing that the race enjoys so much good though mingled with some remaining ills. From his imaginary seat he looks about him to inquire for the abode of perfect happiness. He finds that every one claims his own land to be that happiest spot ; that everywhere man may live and be happy ; and that civilization has its drawbacks as well as its advantages. He then proceeds to examine this ques- tion as illustrated by the countries which lie around him. In Italy, which possesses the greatest natural advantages, he finds the people vicious, ignorant and degraded ; in Switzerland, where the soil is barren and th- climate rigorous, the natives are brave and contented, though i ide and unrefined ; in France the people are idle anil easily pleased, seeking praise from one another, but exhibiting little streng'h of mind or independence of thought ; in Holland the very nature of the country has induced habits of industry, industry has led to so sordid a love of gain that the inhabitants are said to exchange anything for money, as the French for praise ; in England the climate is mild and moderate, but the people are extreme and independent, independence begets disunion and political strife, and the very liberty which Britons " prize too high" is the cause of much oi' their unhappiness. The poet here takes occasion, in dilating on the evils of freedom, to introduce reflections of his own on the dangers of England, arising from the undue preponderance of 45 46 THE TRAVELLER. any one class, from the increase of wealth and from the conse- quent emigration of the " bold peasantry." But the search for perfect ha,.piness has been vain and, indeed, is unimportant, since governments can but little affect the happiness of individuals —that depends on the proper regulation of their own minds. 1 Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow, —attrib- utive adjuncts of/, in 1. 7. Cf. 1. 437. Melancholy. (Gr, /tisXai, black, and x^^^/y ^i^^) ^"^ of a large class of words, used in an old theory of medicine, "according to which there were four principal moistures or humors in the natural body, ou the due proportion and com- bination of which the disposition alike of body and mind de- pended." See Trench, S^uc/y of Words, lecture III. Mention other words of the class referred to. Slow. Boswell, in his Life of Johnson, relates the following characteristic incident : '' 'Chamier,' said Johnson, ' once asked me what he (Goldsmith) meant by slow, the last word in the first line of The Traveller. Did he mean tardiness of locomotion ?' Goldsmith, who would say something without consideration, ansv/ered, *Yes.' I was sitting by, and said, 'No, Sir; you do not mean tardiness of locomotion. You mean that sluggish- ness of mind which comes upon a man in solitude.' Chamier believed I had written the line as much as if he had seen me write it." 2 Or, by poetic license for whetJier. i-azy Scheldt. Describe accurately its course ; mention, in order, the principal towns and cities upon its banks. Is the epithet lazy applicable ? Cf. Collins', Ode to a Lady. " By rapid Scheldt's descending wave His country's vows shall bless the grave, Where'er the youth is laid." ^Wandering Po. The Po including its wanderings is up- wards of 450 miles long. From its rise to its mouth is only 270 miles, in a straight line. 3 Where the rude, etc. An adverbial clause, qualifying the adverb onward. Rude. What does rude mean here? Carinthia, A province of Austria, between Illyria and Styria, probably visited by G. during his tour on the continent. THE TRAVELLER. 47 2-3 These lines form wJiat is called an assonance, i.e. *a cor- respondence of sound in the termination of verses less complete than that of rhyme.' It is frequently, as here, a rhyming to the eye, but not to the ear. Boor. A. S. ^ehnre, a farmer, from huan^ to till. Dutch boer, a husbandman. Many words, of which this is a good example, have become degraded in meaning. " No word would illustrate this process better than that old example familiar probably to us all, of ' villain,' The ' villain' is, first, the serf or peasant, ' villanus,' because attached to the * villa' or farm. He is, secondly, the peasant who, it is further taken for granted, will be churlish, selfish, dishonest, and gen- erally of evil moral conditions, these having come to be assumed as always belonginp- to him, and to be permanently associated with his name, by ihose higher classes of society, the naXoi xa^ya^Joi, who in the main commanded the springs of lan- guage. At the third step, nothing of the meaning which the etymology suggests, nothing of 'villa,' survives any longer; peasant is wholly dismissed, and the evil moral conditions of him who is called by this name alone remain ; so that the name would now in this its final stage be applied as freely to peer, if he deserved it, as to peasant. 'Boor' has had exactly the same history ; being first the cultivator of the soil ; then secondly, the cultivator of the soil, who, it is assumed, will be coarse, rude, and unmannerly; and then thirdly, any one vv-ho is coarse, rude, and unmannerly." — Trench's Lnglish Past and Present, lect. vn. 5 Campania. "Campagnadi Roma, an undulating, un- cultivated, and unhealthy plain of Italy surrounding Rome, including the greatest part of ancient Latium. The ground, which never rises more than 200 feet above the sea, is almost entirely volcanic and the lakes are formed by craters of extinct volcanoes. The mmiber of inhabitants is very small, and in summer they are driven from the sea by its pestilent air, and seek shelter in Rome and other neighboring places. This dis- trict was not always uncultivated and depopulated as we now find it, for Domitian and Hadrian built here their splendid vil- las. — Chambers's Encyclopcedia. Forsaken. Complement of the predicate lies. 6 "Waste. A secondary complement of lies^ — in the predi- cate nominative. 7 After realms supi^ly I roavi. The clause is concessive ad- verbial, qualifying tnins. 48 THE TRAVELLER. 9 My brother. The Rev. Hcniy Cioklsmith to whom this poem is dedicated. He was the eldest of the family, and his father's favorite. In his collegiate career, he greatly distin- guished himself, winning a scholarship in the year 1743. But, with the improvidence of his race, he, during the succeeding vacation, married for love, gave up his collegiate course, and began to teach a school. This, he continued for a short time, but soon received the curacy of Lissoy, at forty pounds a year, Plere he spent the remainder of his lile, in great domestic com- fort and in the enjoyment of the love and affection of all his parishioners. Explain pain here, and compare it with pain in 1. 15. 10 Cf. Citizen of the World, letter III., where he had previously used this beautiful and affecting image. "The far- ther I travel I feel the pain of separation with stronger force. Those ties that bind me to my native country and you, are still unbroken ; by every remove I only drag a greater length of chain." 11 Grown. This may be regarded as the third person of the imperative, or as the subjunctive used optatively. See Abbott's //cna to Parse^ par. 504. 15 "Want and pain, by metonymy for persons suffering from 'want and pain.' 16 And e\ei'y stranger, etc. Supply zvhcre. The clause is adjectival to abode. 18 Around ^who gather around the board. It is to be taken as an adjective qualifying /?w//j'. 19 That never fail. That are never wanting among children, or, possibly, it may mean, that never f-iil to provoke merriment. Several poets have given us descriptions of the ideal clergyman. See Wordsworth's Excursion^ Bk. V, ; Dryden's Character of a Parson^ imitated from the Prologue to Chaucer's Canterbury Tales', Cowper's Task, Bk, II.; and particularly the Deserted Village, 11. 137-192. 21 What is the subject oi press? Cf. D. F., 1. 149. *' His house was known to all the vagrant train. He chid their wanderings, but relieved their pain." 22 And learn, etc. This clause, like each of the three preceding, is adjectival lo feasts. Doing is a participial noun in the objective case after of. Good is a noun, objective case after doing: THE TRAVELLER. 49 23 Me. The object o{ leads in 1. 29. 24 Prime is in the nominative absolute. 25 Impelled, etc., like destined, etc., forms an attributive adjunct of vie. 27 Like. According to the common parsing, like is here an adverb qualifying allures, and ei?rle is in the objective after io understood. But this is clearly wrong. The poet does not mean that the manner of alluring resembles a circle, i.e., that an action resembles a line ; but he intends to say, that this fleetim^ good allures him on, in a manner similar to that in which the horizon (the circ'e bnundin.^ earth and skies) allures the traveller on. Hence the correct parsing is, like is a conjunctive adverb, and eirele is the subject of allures untlerstood. See Earle's Philology, par. 220, and Angus's Handbook, par. 322. 28 Far is to be taken as a noun, in the objective Zihtr from. [TYislX] yet flies is an adjectival clause cjualifying .i,'V(7(/. Yet '\> an adverb qualifying yf/Vi-. As I foUo^v is adverbial to /lies. 29 Alone is the complement of the verb of incomj^lete pre- dication, traverse, and is to be parsed as an adjective qualifying inc. 30 My own is the objective complement oijind, and as an adjective qualifies spot. 32 I sit me. Sit is now intransitive. The use of archaic forms adds dignity to poetry. 34 An hundred. Cf. D. V., 93, "an hare," ^t/ms another form of one. Cf. Scotch, anc. The distinction we make with regard to the use of an and a is only a modern innovation. In old and middle English an was almost invariably used. 35 Lakes, etc., are in apposition to an hundred realms. 36 The pomp of kings seems intended as the appositive to lakes, forests, eities ; and shepherd's Juonhler pride, \.o plaitis. Wide is an adjective qualifying /A^/z/j-. 37 What part of speech is around ! See note on 1. 18. 40 ^''ain is the ol)jective complement of nuikes. See Rushton, sec. 16. By Al)bott, this is called the objeciire supplement. See Ihnv to Parse, par. 14'^. Explain vain here. 41 School-taught. This epithet should not, as som.(^ ^^4 50 THE TRAVELLER. have supposed, be confined either to the Stoic or Mediaeval Philosophy ; but is to be understood to mean scholastic doctrine generally. Dissemble is the complement of the verb of incomplete predication Id. By some this is called the complementary infini- tive, completing the object zvorld. See Hoiv to Parse, par. 97. All = as much as. 42 Man. Account for the poet's having written man here. 43 Sympathetic. Gr. 6vv^ together, 7tdOo<^, feeling. Possessing fellow-feeling. 44 Exult. Lat. ex, and saltare, to leap. 45, 48 Point out the figures in these lines. 47 Busy, as employed to propel so many vessels. What figure in /ntsy ? 48 Bending = stooping to their work. Dress. Lat, dirigere, to put straight ; It. drizzare, to raise; Fr. dresser, to make straight. 50 Heir. Vit{oxQ. creation'' s 'i^Vi\>\Ay I being. Absolute case, forming extension of the succeeding proposition. Mine, a pronoun in the possessive case, the complement of is; or simply an adjective, (Lat. mens), the complement of is, Latham, chap. 37, strongly maintains the latter view. 51-52 " Rhyme speaks to the ear, and not to the eye. If, therefore, the concluding sound is the same, no matter what the spelling, the rhyme is perfect." This is the case with this couplet. 51-56 Arrange these lines thus : — As hoards after hoards fill his (some lone miser s ) risin^i^ raptures (ivhile) some lone miser (he) visiting his store, bends at his treasure, counts, recounts it o'er; ( and as ) yd he still sighs, for hoards are loanting still : "hus to mv breast alternate passions rise, ( I being) pleased ivith each good that Heaven to nuin supplies. 55 Passions. What does passions mean here ? Compare its meaning in this line ,. ilh its etymological, and with its usual sense. 56 Each, here, as in varit ;.<, Dther lines, is used for every. Cf. 1. 61. 57 Sorrows. What^ iigi^-;? 58 To see, etc. An ;uH'e)l)in,l adjunct q{ falL 61 Hope, Nominative absoluic 62 To see ---on seeing, and is m^ advdbinl adjunct of may gathi-r. THE TRAVELLER. SI 63 "Where (we are) to find, etc., is a noun clause object of can direct ( = can tell). Below = <:^;« the earth, and is an adverb qualifying to find. 64 How does the meaning of tenant here differ from its usual signification ? 67 Enumerate the principal treasures of his stormy seas. 68 Long nights. Give their length at the Arctic circle, and also at a pomt midway between it and the pole. Revelry. What is the meaning of this word here ? Shew how far, in its ordinary sense, it is applicable to the habicS of polar races. 69 Line. What is meant ? 70 Golden sands. Is there any good reason for suppos- ing that the Gold Coast is particularly referred to ? Palmy wine. Wine made from the sap of the palm tree. 72 Gods. What gods are meant ? Point out the grammatical error in this Hne, and account for it. Cf. I. 113, and 9. V., 1. 92, "Where Mahommedanism has not been introduced, the reli- gion of the negroes is nothing but a debased fetish worship. They make fetishes of serpents, elephants' teeth, tigers' claws, and other parts of animals, at the dictation of i\\Q\v fetish man, or priest. They also manufacture idols of wood and stone, which they worship ; and yet, under all this, they have some idea of a Supreme Being." — -Chambers's Encyclopcedia. 74 His first . . home. This is a noun clause in apposition to boast. 80 Even is the objective complement of makes, and as an adjective qualifies blessings. 82 Bliss =^ favors. 83 Peasant. P'r. paysan, one living in the country, from pays, country ; Lat. pagus, a district. WHiat other word does G. use as a synonym of peisant ? 84 Idra or rather Idria, a small but important town of Aus- tria in the crownlaad cf Carniola, celebrated for its quicksilver mines, is situated in a deep caldron-shaped valley on a river of tlie same name, 22 miles south-west of Laibach. Arno. Trace its course. What towns on its banks ? After as, supply he is supplied on (Arno's shelvy side). Shelvy rising with gentle shelf-like ridges. ! f 52 THE TRAVELLER. 86 Custom. Lat. ronsuesco, to be accustomed. Old Fr. coustume. Fr. coiitume. 88 Gont?"^. Cf. Macbeth, IH. 2 : " Nought's had, all's spent, Where our desire is got without content." 89 Each other's. Each,, a distribu'.ive pronoun in appo- sition to subject these. Some writers seem to regard 'each other' as a compound pronoun. See How to Parse, pars. 223, 385, 531 ; Dr. Adams, par. 258; Cf. Pope : ** O'er the pale marble shall they join their heads And drink the falling tears each other sheds." Strong -strongly. 90 Either. Fuich would be the proper word here, as either refers to one of two objects, not to one of five. Destructive is the complement oi seems. 91-92 Inquire into the truth of these assertions. 97 Carried . . domain. This clause forms an attributive adjunct of the subject good. Domain. What is meant by domain here ? 98 Peculiar pain. Means the pain which arises from pursuing this favorite good. Distinguish peculiar and particular. Cf. Gray's Ode on the Pleasure of Vicissitude : '* Still where rosy pleasure leads See a kindred grief pursue." 99 Try may be regarded as the complement of let. These truths. What truths? 100 Through the prospect as it lies. Through the different countries which lie before the poet. 101 My proper cares = my own cares. Gyr^j is nomina- tive absolute. 103 Like yon . . cast. Like is here an adjective qualify- ing me. Yon is a demonstrative adjective. There is in this expression a melancholy reference to his own friendless condition. 105 Far qualifies the phrase to the right. Apennine. Why not Apennines?* Trace this mountain chain on the map. Cf. Byron's Childc Harold, canto IV : *' Once more upon th(> woody Apennine, The infant Alps." THE TRAVELLER. S3 106 Bright is an adjective (jualifying Italy and forms the complement of extends. 107 By uplands are to be understood successive terraces on the mountain side which are covered by "woods over woods." 108 Woods over Avoods. The first woods is in the nom- inative absolute. The wooded uplands rise one ab^ve another like the rows of boxes at a theatre. 109 After tops supply whicJi stand o,:t between these laoods. Without supplying, betioeen may be parsed as an adjective, since it takes the place of an adjectival clause. While . . scene. This proposition is co-ordinate with the preceding, since while merely continues the description. 110 Mark. Give the exact meaning of this word here. 111 Cf. Virgil's Georgies^ II. 136-176; Roger's Italy; By- ron's Childe Harold, canto IV.; also, Addison's Letter from Italy, where he says : " How has kind heaven adorned the land. And scattered blessings with a wasteful hand I But what avail her unexhausted stores, Her blooming mountains and her sunny shores, With all the gifts that heaven and earth impart, The smiles of nature, and the charms of art, While proud oppression in the valleys reigns. And tyranny usurps her happy plains?" 112 "Were — would be. Subjunctive used for potential by enallage. 113 Whatever . . found. This clause and the clauses forming 11. 115 to 117, are each noun propositions forming the subject of ow)i in 1. 1 19. The form is similar to : "whatever is, is best." Correct the grammatical error in this line. 114 Mention some of the 'fruits' that 'proudly rise' or 'hum- bly court the ground. ' 118 What is meant by vernal lives ? But, an adverb qualifying to die. 119 These is in apposition to the noun clauses of II. 113, 115 and 117. Explain kindred soil. Is the correct here ? 121 Parse 7vhile. See note on 1. 109. Gelid ^vings. ^\\y gelid ? 54 THE TRAVELLER. M Point otit ill t>ie figvu^s of speech in 11. 1 1 1-122. 123 Sense senses. So sensua/, as opposed to intellectual. X2'5 Florid beauty, i.e., beauty produced by profusion of flov.vi s . 126 His manners, not only his outward actioiui, but his character. Cf. Lat. //wrt's. 128 Though poor, luxurious. Supply Ae is, and read: l/e is luxurious, though he is poor. 129 Zealous, yet untrue. In order to make this con- trast clear, zealous must be taken to mean, professedly ardent, and untrue, to signify practically unfaithful. 130 Even, an adverb, qualifying the phrase in penance. For analysis, supply he is with, pl-anmng: 131 Contaminate. Lat. eontamen, for contagimen, con- tact; con, witl). Mi-^ tango, to touch. Give synonyms, and com- pare ti:<:m. 133 Date is nominativ . absolute; and the clause not far . . date forms an adverbial extension of roas. Date is the time when any document is give^i or issued. Cf. the expression : * Given under our hand, etc' 134 Florence, Pisa, Genoa, Venic and some other Italian towns, acquired great wealth by then extensive commerce in the middle ages, and the people became intelligent and reSned : but jealousies arising between these independent republics led to disastrous wars which, aided by civil dissensions, ended in the yuin of thfir power and the destruction of their commerce. 135 The palace, etc. The splendid mansions of the mer- chant pnnces of the commercial towns. These imposing structures are now mostly uninhabited ; those that are occupied, being chiefly used as hotels. 136 The long-fallen column, etc. 'That is, since the old Roman days.' " The hrst modern sculptor of any note, and the true fathei of modern sculpture, was Nicolo Pisano, an artist of the thirteenth century. Among his successors, the most emi- nent were Andrea Pisano and Andrea Orcagna of the fourteenth ; and Lucca della Robbia, Lorenzo Ghiberti, Donatello, and Bru- nelleschi, of the fifteenth century. In the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, Italy was full of artists, many of whom were at once architects, painters, and sculptors, as Michael Angelo and Cel- lini." — Chambers's Mediaval Hist. 137 Canvas. Painting began to revive in Italy under Guido of Tuscany, 1221. Among his successors were Ciiotto of Flor- THE TKAVKILKK. 55 1 ence, Fra Angelico (1389), Masaccio (1401), Lippi (1416), Go/,- zoli, Perugino (1446), Bellini of Venice (1426). The climax of Italian art wa.-. attainv'd in the generation ininiedintely succeed- ing that of these jiairters, when Leonaidi d.i Vinci, Michael Angelo, Raphael, Tiiian, and Sanzio D'Urbiiio lived. Warm is an attributive adjunct of cajiras. E'en. I'arse e'en. See note on 1. 130. 138 Explain this line, 139 Southern ^ale. Why does the poet say sottihcm ^i^ale rather than ariy other? The causes of the decay of Italian commerce are to be sought ; in the exhausting warfare which destroyed the shipping and crip- pled the resources, now of one ciiy, now of another ; in the dis- covery of America ; and in that of the sea-route to India. 141 For the parking of whi/e, see note on 1. 109. Gave. The sequence of tenses requires had given. Riches is ctymologically of the singular number, but is plural in f(nm, and the form appears to account for its being used with a plural verb. 142 But tov/ns unmanned and (but) lords ^jvith- OUt a slave, are adverbial extensions of the verb remained^ as they=if we except towns, etc. But is here a preposition. Unmanned =uninhabited. 143 Skill :;; knowledge. From A. S. scylan, to distinguish 144 Former. The old English yc?r-;;/-<^? signifiesyfri-/, the superlative of a rooty^r^'. Fyrnust -for-)u-ost also had the same meaning, but is a double superlative. Former is a comparative formed from the old superlative. But" vMily. Plethoric. Plethora, from Gr. 7r/l//0r'(y, to be full, signi- fies in medicine an overfulness of blood. Hence by ' plethoric iir the poet means that the unwonted activity which the increase of commerce, and consequently of wealth, had produced, was not a natural outcome of genuine nationr! health ; but that its ' fo"iner strength' was not, a> had been sujiposed, real strength at all, but merely an outward appearance oi it, brought on by a superfluity of wealth, as an overfulne» of blood in the body induces over-exertion. 146 Wrecks. The arts as now cultivated in Italy are as wrecks compared with the productions of the great masters oi former ages. 56 TIIK TRAVKLLER. 1^ II 150 Pasteboard triumph. This seems to refer to some of the out -door amusements prac- tised during the Carnival, particularly at Venice and Rome. " The carriage and horses are deeked out in a very fine or a very eapricious manner. A eoachman, dressed aS a Spanish cavalier of the olden times, is driving an old Tabellone, or notary, with a huge wine-flask (extended townrds a Punch on stilts), and a Roman doctor, with 'spectacles on nose,' wh Ue a small-grown Punch climbs up the side steps, and Punchinelh")^, with a squeak- ing trumpet to his lips, ami a sturdy turbaned ]V/oor act au foot- men."— See McFarlane's Poptdar Customs of the South of Italy. Cavalcade, dr. ;rn/ia'AA^/S, a pack-horse ; I « to the soil. 185 Cheerful is the complement of wakes. 186 Breasts. "This is the reading of all the early editions, and Johnson quotes it in his Diet, as an illustration of the verb. The reading 'Breathes,' fount,! in the Globe ed., doubtless had its origin in a misprint." Carols. It. carolare, to sing ; carola, a kind of dance ; O. Fr. carolle ; W. carol, a love-song^ ^"^187 Patient angle. It is not the angle, but the angler that is patient. "This figure is not dignified with a proper THE TRAVELLER. 59 :ott, reo^ his so name, because it has been overlooked by writers." — Lord Karnes' Elements of Criticism. Angle is now seldom used as a noun. See Shak., A. and C.y IL 5 : "Give me mine angle ; we'll to the river." Trolls. Ger. trollcn, to roll. " To fish, as for pikes, with a rod, the line of which runs on a reel, or to fish by letting the line drag through the water." Finny deep. Same figure as inpatient angle^ and in ven- turous ploughshare in the next line. Cf. D. K, 1. 361, and Gray's Elegy ^ sta. 6, ** blazing hearth.'' 188 Savage. Lat. silva, a wood ; silvaticus, an inhabi- tant of the woods ; It. selvaggio ; Fr. saiivage. Here pro- bably means th" bear. Cf. Cit. of IVorld, I.: "Drive the reluctant savage into the toils." As a substantive, we now apply savage only to human beings. 191 Every labor sped. Labor is nominative absolute. 6^(?^= accomplished. 192 Monarch is in the predicate nominative, and may be taken as the complement of the verb of incomplete predication sits. See note on 1. 32. 193 Smiles, etc. Cf. Gray's Elegy, sta. 6. 197 And haply too, etc. This is a principal proposition. Haply = perchance. 198 Scan this line. Many j. tale. This is a more than ordinarily difficult con- struction. Archbishop Trench in the first editions of his Eng- lish Past and Present, explained "many a man" as a corruption of ** many of men." In the later editions he has quietly with- drawn this statement. Many very excellent grammarians, .such as Fleming, Dr. Adams, Rushton, have adopted his sokition without due examination. In early English it was a frequent practice to emphasize the adjective by a change of position, as long a time, for a long time. This is shown by our retention 01 such expressions as such a woman, what a day. In Layamon, I. 24: ** On ?noni aiQ wisen" (later text vadiVix ane); '•'' monianes cunnes" ib. 39 ; of many a kind. Abbott's Shakespearian Gram. par. 85. Abbott in his Ho~u to Parse^ par. 218, says the regular construction for many a man has tried would be many men have tried; but this appears to have been confused with * * many times a man has tried. Hence Abbott parses many as an adverb modifying a or as part of the compound adjective many-a — many-one— A. S. mani-an. Other authorities regard many as an adjective, and the con- 6o THE TRAVELLER. struction as inverted. See Mason, par. 93 ; Dr. Adams, par. 571 ; Angus, sec. 480 ; Rushton, pars. 281, 299-302. Nightly = for the night. Cf. Milton, // Pens, 84 : •* To bless the doors from nightly harm." 200 Patriot passion, love for his native country. 201 Kven is joined to those ills for the purpose of emphasis, 202 Enhance. Lat. ante, before ; Fr. en avant ; Prov- en9al, enansar, to forward. 203 Gonforms=accommodates itself. 205 As a child clings close and closer to the mother's breast is adverbial to bind. The construction is clear if ^/Wj" //Jt'^^' is substituted for clings; thus. The loud tor- rent . . but bind him . . shore, as the child binds itself { clings ) to the mother's breast. 206 Close and closer=closer and closer. Cf. M.for M. IV. 6 ; " The soft and sweetest music." 208 But=only, an adverb, qualifying bind. What part of speech is more ? 211 Let is a verb of incomplete predication, them is the ob- ject, and share, the complement. See note on 1. 41. What does share mean here ? 213 Explain stimulates. Does the poet mean that every want that is felt in a barren country is supplied ? 215 Whence =for these reasons, or in consequence of these facts. 216 And then supplies=and then gratifies the desires which it has excited. 217 Sensual pleasures, the pleasures arising from the senses, as opposed to mtellectual. Cf. sensual bliss in 1. 124. When . . cloy. A noun clause in apposition to //. 218 What is meant by languid pause ? V»y finer joy 1 221 Level = monotonous, as consisting in little more than *' forcing a churlish soil for scanty bread." Cf. Mrs. Browning: '* We miss far prospects by a level bliss." 222 Unquenched by want and unfanned by strong desire are adjuncts oi fire. Unquenched. A S. ««, not, and cwencan, to quench. 223 (The vulgar breast is) unfit for raptures, or, if rap- THE TRAVELLER. 6i tures cheer on some high festival of once a year, (it) (the vulgar breast) takes fire in wild excess^ till, (it) buried in debauch, the bliss expire. 224 Of once a year. This whole phrase is adjectival to festival. Once is a substantive, end is qualified by the phrase, (in) a year. 226 Debauch. Old Fr. bauche, a row of bricks. Buried in debauch. This is an absolute phrase forming an adverbial extension of ^jr//rt'. Expire. Account for this subjunctive form. Would it be correct in prose ? 227 Not their joys alone thus coarsely flow.= // is not their Joys alone that thus coarsely flcnv. N'ot does not qualify flow. 228 Like their pleasures forms an adverbial clause, qualifying loriv. It is not asserted that their morals are like their pleasures, but that their morals are loiv in the same manner as their pleasures are. For like see note on 1. 27. 230 Unaltered and unimproved are complements of run, ^QQ Hcnv to Parse, par. 148-150. 232 Fall is not grammatically correct, but may be explained as an instance of "construction according to sense." Blunted is the complement oifall. Indurated. Lat. durare, to harden ; and in, used inten- sively. 234 Like=as, is here a conjunctive adverb. See note on 1. 27. Falcons is the subject of may sit understood, and co7vering is the complement. Cowering, here means simply, brooding, with no notion of fear. Cf. Dryden : " Our dame sits cowering o'er a kitchen fire." 235 As play . . w^alks, and (as) charm the way. These clauses are each adjectival ; as performing; the office of a relative pronoun. See Hot.v to Parse, par. 205. 237 These, i.e., the gentler morals. These is in ap- position to morals. 241 Sprightly. Spright, or sprite is a contraction for spirit. Esprit is from the same root, Lat. spirare, to breathe. 243 Choir. Gr. ^opc'5, a dance ; Lat. chorus ; Fr. chmir; A. S. chor. It here has its original meaning. Cf. V. of W.^ 62 THE TRAVELLER. " I had some knowledge of music, with a tolerable voice ; I now turned what was once my amusement into a present means of subsistence. I passed among the harmless peasants of Flan- ders, and among such of the French as were poor enough to be merry ; for I ever found them sprightly in proporti(>n to their wants. Whenever I approached a peasant's house, towards nightfall, I played one of my merriest tunes, and that procured me not only a lodging, but subsistence for the next day ; but in truth I must own, whenever I attempted to entertain persons of a higher rank, they always thought my performance odious, and never made me any return for my endeavors to please them." 244 Tuneless, because it but mocked all tune, and marred the dancer's skill. Loire. Trace minutely the course of this river, noting the Departments through which it flows, and the chief towns and cities on its banks. 245 Where . . grew is an adverbial clause to led, 246 Supply where before fi'eshened. Freshened is the com- plement oijlezv. 247 Haply qualifies would praise ^nd would dance. Faltering. Gr. 6cpa\XGD, to make fall ; Lat. fa^lo, to deceive ; iL/altare, to be wanting. Compare its meaning here with its ordinary signification. 248 But=only. Skill. Distinguish the meaning of skill in this line from that which it bears in 1. 143. Compare also skill in 1. 90, Z>. y. 249 Villager villagers by metonymy. 250 Forgetful, etc., is an adjunct of the subject of dance. 251 Alike all ages. Persons of all ages are alike, i.e., old and young. Dames of ancient days=:elderly women. 252 Have led. Is this tense grammatically correct ? Com- pare 1, 254. When should the present perfect be used ? 253 Gestic lore. Gestic from the Latin gero, gestus, is here closely connected in meaning with gesture and gesticula- tion. His gestic lore means his skill in dancing. Cf. Scott, Peverilofthe Peak: ** He seemed, like herself, carried away by the enthusiasm of the gestic art." 256 Idly busy, an example of oxymoron. Cf. Horace's ** Strenua nos exercet inertia," and Pope's *' Life's idle business at one gasp be o'er," THE TRAVELLER. 'World— their life in this world. 257 Theirs. See note on 1. 50. 258 Honor. See 11. 259 and 260 for the definition of this so-called honor. 20 Even is joined to imaginary ivorth in order to empha- size it. 261 Current is the complement oi passes. Paid from hand to hand. What part of the sentence is this ? 262 Traffic. It. traffic ; Fr. trajic ; from Lat. trans, be- yond, and facere^ to do. Explain splendid traffic. 264 Avarice is the direct retained object after the verb in the passive voice. See How to Parse, pars. 117, 122 and 123. Cf. Horace, Ars Poetica, 324: "Praeter laudem nullus avarus." 266 'What they seem is a noun clause after to. Parse what. 268 To rise is used adjectively. See Horv to Parse, par. 109, 270 Internal strength of thought. Goldsmith seems to have been ignorant of the works of leading French authors of his time, as Diderot, Voltaire, d' Alembert, Beaumarchais, and Rousseau. 273 Tawdry. ''This word is said to be formed by con- traction from Ethelred, and applied originally to laces and simi- lar articles sold at the fairs of St. Ethelred."— i^/r/^rtn/jc7«. *' A vulgar corruption of St. Audrey, or Auldrey, meaning St. YA\it\- XQ^:'—Nares. See note on 1. 3. Cf. Prior : ** And laying by her tawdry vest." ■ 276 Frieze. Sp. /ma ; Yi-.frise; W. /"m ;— perhaps so called from the Frisians. 277 Cheer. Give meaning. 278 To boast = to boast of. Once qualifies the phrase a year. Year is the objective case. After banquet some suc'i word as ^/ww may be supplied. The whole clause once a year forms an adjunct of banquet. 280 What is the meaning of self-applause here ? 281 Other, an adjective=:different. 282 Embosomed is the complement of lies, and is parsed a past participle referring to Ifolland. 64 THE TRAVELLER. 283 Her patient . . stand is a noun clause, the subject of t'links in methinks^ and mc is the dative case=/f? me. Thinks is from A. S. thincan, to seem, not from thencan^ to think. See How to Parse, par. 328, and Rushton, sec. 166. 284 Leans against, etc. Cf. Dryden — ** And view the ocean leaning on the sky." 285 Sedulous, from Lat. sedeo, I sit,=sitting close to work, diligent. The phrase sedulous . , tide is an adjunct of Ihey, understood, the subject of lift. Artificial pride. Explain this. 286 Lift . . pride, the construction is the same as in 1. 283. Rampire. This is .nother form of rampart which is from Lat. re, again, />//, in, and parare, to prepare. Cf. Dryden's Mneid, VII. 213 : ** The Trojans round the place a rampire cast." 287 Diligently slow. This phrase is beautifully expres- sive of the vast amount of persevering toil necessary to build these immense u^l-es. 288 The firm . . grow. For the construction of this clause, and the three succeeding, see note on 1. 283. Firm, an adverb=firmly, qualifying connected. Bulwark. Dutch, bolwork; Ger. bollwerk: Fr. boulevard, " These ramparts are in appearance long green mounds, broad at the base, graduated in their slope, and often of suffi- cient width to admit of a canal or road, or both, being formed along the top. To give strength to the fabric, willows are planted and also interwoven like wicker-work on the sides. Carried along the banks of rivers, and in some places along the margin of the sea, as well as crosswise in different parts 01 Hol- land, a singular net-work of embanking is presented, which answers the double purpose of a protection from inundation and a means of having canals, by which superfluous water pumped from the meadows, or polders, may be run off into the sea. The whole system of dyking is placed under local and general super- intendence, at a considerable cost to the public. One of the most gigantic of these dykes is that along the Helder ; it meas- ures about six miles in length, 40 feet broad at the summit, along which there is a good road, and descends into the sea by a slope of 200 feet, inclined about 40 decrees." — QhamUers's. Encyclopaedia ., THE TRAVELLKk. ^'5 To grow is the complement of seem. vSee note on 1. 41. 291 While the pent, etc. Cf. tlu- Animated Nature, where G. says : •' The whole kingdom of Holland seems to be a conquest on the sea, and in a manner rescued from its bosom. The surface of the earth in this country is below tlie level of the bed of the sea ; and I remember upon approaching the coast to have looked down upon it from the sea as into a valley." 292 Smile is the complement of sees. See note on 1. 41. 293 Canals. "Canals are more numerous in Holland than in any other country. They there form the chief means of trans- port. Those of most importance to the national trade are, the North Holland Canal, connecting Amsterdam with the North Sea ; the Voorne Canal, from the north side of Voorne to Hellevoetslins ; the South Villemsvaart, throi gh North lira- bant, Dutch and Belgian I.imburg, from Hertogenbosch to Maastricht, being 71^ English miles in length, and having 24 locks." — Chambers's Encydopadia, Yellow-blossomed vale. How is vale applied here? Explain yelloiu-Noisomed. Give rules for the proper use of hyphens. 294 Willow-tufted. See note on 1. 288, Sail=ship by synecdoche. 295 Mart, a contraction of market. A. S. market. C'f. Dutch and Ger. markt; Mod. Lat. merchcta; Lat. mercaius from merceSf goods ; Fr. marc/iL 296 Creation is a summing up of canal, vale, bank, sail, mari, and plain, and is in the objective case in apposition to these words, as they are to ivorld. 297 Around thereabouts, in this country. Wave-subjected probably refers to the land having been so long under the sea, that it has become covered with sand, and consequently unproductive. 30C Begets. Give the various uses of be in composition. 301 V/ith all those ills, etc. Those ills are largely dwelt on in the D. V., which see from 1. 265 to the end. 302 Are. Grammatically, the plural cannot be justified here.— See Adams, par. 596. Some consider that it may be allowed as an example of 'construction according to isense'. Others contend that with is equal to and. 305 After but supply //, or vir^v may be considered the imperative. AS I 66 TIIK TRAVELLER. Graft. A. S. cncft^ art, or trade. Eor degradation of meaning see note on 1. 3. 306 Even. Sec note on 1. 260. Cf. V. of IV., ch. XIX. : "Now the possessor of accumulated wealth, when furnished with the necessaries and pleasures of life, has no other method to employ the superfluity of his for- tune but in purchasing power, by purchasing the liberty of the needy or the venal, of men who ure willing to bear the mortifi- cation of contiguous tyranny for bread." 309 Land and den are in the nominative absolute. Cf. Citizen of the World: "A nation once famous for setting the world an example of freedom is now become a land of tyrants and a den of slaves." Cf. Scott : *' And doubly dying shall go down To the vile dust from whence they sprung." 312 Dull as their lakes. Why are the lakes of Holland dull ? The chief lakes are Yesselmonde, Salt, Lange, Tjeuke. 313 How unlike (they are to) their Belgic sires of old, (who were) rough . . bold. Belgic. Belgica of the Romans embraced a large district, bounded on the east by the Rhine, and extending westward nearly to the Seine (Sequana). It covered a pp.rt of the area now occupied by France and Holland. A tribe called the Batavi inhabited the north-eastern part south of the Rhine. The tribe north of the Rhine where part of Holland now lies, belonged to the Frisii. Hence G. might more correctly have said Batavic or Frisic. Sires. Lat. senior ; Fr. seigneur contracted into sire. 315 "War and freedona are in the nominative absolute. It is their Belgic sires who are said to have had : * War in each breast and freedom on each brow,' not the modern Dutch, as some seem to have supposed. 316 The poet evidently alludes to the fact of the Dutch and English being descended from the same stock, and indulges a natural pride in boasting l;hat his countrymen have so far out- stripped their brothers, the Dutch. 317 Genius. What is the plural of genius in the sense in which it is here used ? TIIK rRAVELLEk. 67 e sense in 318 Kx[)lain tliis line. 319 Lawns. Cf. I). F., 1. 35 : " Sweet smilijijf village, loveliest of the lawn." Arcadian pride. Arcadia, a country in the centre of the Peloponnesus. It was a mountainous region, but in the south- em part there were many fruitful vales, and numerous streams. The inhabitants were chiefly devoted to pastoral pursuits, and were noted for their love of music, money, and freedom. I*an, the god of shepherds was worshipped as the tutelary deity of Arcadia, and it was here he invented the shepherd's flute. From these circumstances, at the revival of learning, Arcadia was taken by the poets as the ideal of pastoral beauty and hapjjiness. — See Sidney's Arau/ia. 320 Famed Hydaspes. The Ilydaspes, now known as the Jhelum, is one of the tributaries of the Indus. Hydaspes is a corruption of its Sanci it name Vitasla. Famed is a translation of the "fabulosus" of Horace, (Od. I. 22, 8). "The epithet fabulous refers to the strange accounts which were circulated respecting this river, its golden sands, the monsters inhabiting its waters, etc." 321 All around =:in ev( ry direction. All is an adverb qualifying around, and around is an adverb qualifying sfray. 322 Spray. A. S. s/>rtc, a sprig ; or from sprccdan, to spread. The n\eaning is that birds sing on every branch. Cf. Chaucer : *' The wood dove upon the spray, He sang full loud and clear," and Dryden : *' The painted birds, com ^anions of the spring. Hopping from spray to ^pray, were heard to sing." 324 This line seems to mean that so far as climate and natural surroundings are concerned, everything in England is of the ** mildest" and "gentlest" description; but that the possessors of the soil (the masters) are not so, being extreme in boldness, independence, and love of freedom. Only is an adverb qualifying the phrase following. 325 Stern is here used as an adverb, to qualify holds. 326 Great qualifies bosom. Explain this line. 327 Pride and defiance are in the nominative absolute. Port=bearing. Cf. (\x7s^\ Hard, 117: *' jltr lion [)oit, her awe-commanding face,'" 68 THK TkAVKLLKk. 328 Lords of human kind. WIkj aie meant? Pass by is the complement oi sec. See note on 1. 41. 330 Kxplain this line. Unfashioned, Lat./nvr^, to make, /(ic/io, a making; Fr. /iron. 332 Above control is an adjunct oi true. Control. Olfl Fr. contrerollcr ; Y\. controlcr. 333 While. Compare note on 1. 109. Peasant. I.at. paganus, a villnger, from pagus, a village ; Fr. paysan. Scan. Lat. sauido, to climb. Boasts that he is juslified in inrjuiring into these (his own) rights, i.e., in discussing the public ([uestions which affect him as the citizen of a great co.mlry. To scan is the object (if boasts. 334 As man. As is redundant See IJoiv to Parse, par. 209. 335 See Cowper's Task, Bk. V.; also Addison's Letter from Italy : " Oh Liberty, tliou goddess heavenly bright, Profuse of bliss, and pregnant with delight!" 337-8 (We would be) too l>lest, indeed, (if) such (charms) locre loithoiit alloy, but ills , fostered ci'cn by freedom, annoy. Alloy. Fr. aloyer, to make of the legal standard, from aloi, a standard; Old Fr. alloye, lawful, from a la loi ; or Old F'r. alloycr, to unite, from Lat. alligo, to bind. 338 Even is an adverb qualifying the phrase by freedom. Annoy. Lat. ad and noxius, hurtful ; F'r. enmiyer. 341 Lordlings. A diminutive from lord, with the idea of contempt. Cf. hireling and underling. 344 Repelling and repelled. Both of these partici- ples form adjuncts of the subject minds. 345 Ferments arise. 'Political agitations.' Imprisoned factions roar. Fractions which were grasp- ing after supremacy in parHament, but were restrained by inter- nal divisions and the strength of their opponents. After the fall of Walpole, the Whigs who, since the Revolu- tion had presented an unbroken front to the opposite party, became divided into families and cliques. In the words of Lord John Russell, this *' was the age of small factions." At 11 IK rielf, regarding his personal wishes, carrying out his jioiicy, and (Upending on his will," soon suc- ceeded in breaking up this ministry. This he accomplished chiefly by fomenting jealou>ies amonj. them. Xot long after the resignation of i'itt, Lord lUile, the King's favorite, became Premier, but the difficulties of his position soon induced him to resign. Mr. Grenvillc, in 1763, formc(l a ministry, but after two years of public discontent, and "f disagreement witiiin the Cabinet, he resigned, and the Marquis of Rockingham became First Lord of the Treasury. 346 It was during the term of the (Irenville ministry that the imprisonment and prosecution of Wilkes took place. When the House of Lords voted a pamjjhlet from among Wilkes' papers to be blas])hemous, and ailvised a prosecution, he fled to France. The public agitation in favor of " Wilkes and i>ib- erty" was further strengthened by the injunctions issued by Grenville against the I'ress. By repressed ambition is to be understood (by metony- my) Wilkes who, from France ( around licr s/ion), was assisting in keeping up the popular agitation. It is not improbable, that in the expression imprisoned fac- tions^ our poet was thinking of the imprisonment of Wilkes, in 1764. 347 Explain general system. 348 Stopped, fire. See note on 1. 41. Frenzy. Or. cppifv, the mind; Lat. p/irenrsis, fren/.y ; Fr. fr^Aitsie. 351 By fictitious bonds, as opposed to nature s ties, is to be understood the bonds which men are com]ielled to make artificially when nature^s ties can no longer keep society honest and honorable. Some men are honest as far as they are obliged by law to be. G. thinks they should be so from a sense of 'duty, love, and honor.' 354 Unknown is the complement of uwps. 356 Land of scholars, Mention those most distinguished in science and literature. Nurse of arms. Who are England's greatest warriors ? 357 Stems=fiimilies. :H 70 THK TRAVELLER. 358 Wrote= written. Owing to the tendency to drop the inflection en, the Elizabethan authors frequently used the cur- tailed forms of past participles which are common in Early English: *' I have spoke, forgot, writ, chid," etc. —Abbott's Shakes. Gra?>i. 343. 359 Sink is in the predicate nominative after lie. 360 Unhonored. See note on 1. 354. What kind of a proposition is this line ? 333 Aspire. See note on 1. 292. 364 Far from, etc. Parse /?r here. See note on 1. 130. 365-6 What events in English History illustrate the poet's statement in these lines ? Notice the alliteration of several of the lines of this beautiful apostrophe. 366 Rabble. Lat. rahula, a brawling advocate ; rabo^ to rave ; Dut. rabbdcn, to rattle. Angry steeL What figure ? No doubt our poet, while penning this apostrophe to Free- dom, had in his mind the str.ii^'gle that was then going on be- tween George IIL and his parliament. Outside of the House, too, the strife was even greater than within. It was difficult to determine whether Freedom was suffering more at the hands of demagogues like Wilkes, or from the arbitrary conduct of the King. Every line of this part of the poem is fraught with pic- tures from the times in which it was written. Green's His- tory^ and May's Constitutional History^ should be carefully consulted. 368 Fostering. A. vS. fostt-ian, to foster ; from foster^ originally ^^^/.y/*?;', food. "When two consonants come together the first is often assimilated to the second, or the second to the first, thus t{QXQ beheld. Cf. Z>. K, 362-384. Decayed. Explain this word. 409 Forced. Parse this word. See 1. 41. 411 Oswego. The river is here meant. Trace its course minutely on the map. Give its other name. Cf. G.'s Threno- dia Augustalis: "Oswego's dreary shores shall be my grave." THE TRAVELLER. r-- 73 412 Niagara is here accented on the penult. It is so marked in Lippincott's Gazetteer. 413-22 This somewhat difficult passage is analyzed thus : Even ncnv, perhaps^ there, the pensive exile, hendin;^ loith his woe, to stop too fear/til, and too faint to go, easts a long look, forms the first principal proposition. L. 422 contains a principal propo- sition co-ordinate with this. As then . . ways is a subordinate adverbial clause quali- fying easts in 1. 421. IVhere . . elaim is adjectival to loays, as, also, is (where) the bro7vn . . aim. While . . files and ('•ivhih) all around . . arise, are each adverbial to easts. 413 Pilgrim. Lat. per, through, and ager, a land ; pere- gfinus, a foreigner; It. pellegrino ; Fr. ptlerin ; Cf. Dut. pel- grim ; Qitx. pilger ; Y)ax\. pilgrifn. 414-6 Cf. D. v., 11. 349-356: *' Those matted woods where birds forget to sing, And silent bats in drowsy clusters cling ; Those poisonous fields with rank luxuriance crown'd, Where the dark scorpion gathers death around ; Where at each step the stranger fears to wake The rattling terrors of the vengeful snake ; W^here crouching tigers wait their hapless prey, And savage men more murderous still than they," 416 Indian. Explain how the aborigines of America came to be called Indians. 417 Giddy tempest. What figure? See note on 1. 187. 418 All is an adverb, qualifying around. 419 Exile. Lat. exilium or exsilium, exile ; exsul, one driven from his native land, from ex, out of, and solum, land. 420 This line was written by Ur. Johnson. " In the year 1783, he, at my request, marked with a pencil the lines which he had furnished, which are only line 420 and the concluding ten lines, except the last couplet but one. He added, ' these are all of which I can be sure.' They bear a small proportion to the whole."— Boswell's Life of Johnson, ch. XIX. 422 Mine, a pronoun, the possessive case of /, euphonic form for my, possessing bosom understood ; or an adjective used substantively. See note on 1. 50. 423 To find, etc., is an adjunct oi search. 424 Only qualifies the phrase in the mind, and should stand immediately before it. 426 Government. See note on 1. 372. 74 THE TRAVKLMCK. J i Cf. Poi)e's Essijy on Man : " I^or forms of government let fools contest ; Whate'er is best administer'd, is best." 429 How small that part of all, etc., (is) in every government is the principal proposition. See note on 1. 420. Cf. Macaulay's Jissay on BosivcWs Life of yohnson : "His calm and settled opinion seems to have been, that forms of government have little or no influence on the happiness of society." 431 Still = ever. MitY felicity supply which is, and lead, our own felicity ivhich is consigned to ourselves in every place, i.e., in every country and mider every form of government. Cf. Milton's P. L., I. 254 : " The mind is its own place, and in itself Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven." 433 Secret. Cf. Milton's P. Z., I. 6 : " Sing, heavenly Muse, that on the secret top OfOreb." Also Gray's Elegy, 1. 11 : *' Wandering near her secret bower." 435 Agonizing wheel, *' Breaking on the wheel was a very barbarous mode of in- flicting the punishment of death, formerly in use in France and Germany, where the criminal was placed on a carriage-wheel, with his arms and legs extended along the spokes, and the wheel being turned round, the executioner fractured his limbs by successive blows with an iron bar, which were repeated till death ensued. The punishment of the wheel was abolished in France at the Revolution ; in Germany it has occasionally been inflicted during the present century." — Chambers's Encyclo- pedia. 436 Luke's iron crown. " Who was Luke, and what was his iron crown? is a ques- tion Tom Davies tells u> he had often to answer ; being a great resource in difficulties of that kind. ' The Doctor referred me,' he says, in a letter to the reverend Mr. Granger, who was com- piling his Biographical History and wished to be exact, 'to a book caUed Geographii; Curicuse, for an explanation of Luke's iron crown.' The explanation, besides being in itself incorrect, TIIK TRAVKLLKR. 75 did not mend matters much. 'Luke' liad been taken simply for tlie euphony of the line. He was one of two brothers l)o>.a who had headed a revolt against the Hungarian nol)les, at the beginning of the >,ixteenth century; but, though both were tor- tured, the special horror of the red-hot crown was inflicted upon George. * Dr. Goldsmith says,' adds Davies, * he meant by Damiens' iron, the rack ; but I hclieve the newspapers informed us that lie was confined in a high tower, and actually obliged to lie upon an iron bad.'" — Forster's /J/c of Goldsmith. Damiens' bed of steel. "Robert F. Damiens, on Januiry 5th, 1757, stabbed Louis XV., slightly wounding him," in his right side, when the king was entering his carriage at Versailles. His motives are not known ; Damiens himself alleged that it was the conduct of the King towards the Parliament. A fearful punishment was in- flicted. The hand by which he attempted the murder was burned at a slow fire ; the fleshy parts of his body were then torn oft' by pincers ; and finally he was dragged about for an hour by four strong horst-s, while into his numerous wounds were poured molten lead, resin, oil, and boiling wax."— Cham- bers's I'.ncyclopicdia. 437 To men . . known is an adjectival clause qualify- ing axe^ lo/ieel, croivn and bed. Parse but here. 438 All -entirely, is an adverb qualifying our 0:011. For parsing of our oivn, see note on I. 30. LIFE OF GRAY. Emerson, speaking of Plato, says : '' Great geniuses have the shortest biographies. Their cousins can tell you nothing about them. They lived in their writings, and so their house and street life was trivial and com- monplace. If you would know their tastes and com- plexions, the most admiring of their readers most resemble them. Plato especially has no external biography. As a good chimney burns its smoke, so a philosopher con- verts the value of all his fortunes into his intellectual performances." These pertinent remarks apply with singular aptness to Gray. Quiet and retiring in youth, a bookworm in his maturer years, there is comparatively little material for the biographer. A knowledge of him and his inner life is to be gleaned chiefly from the fitful bursts of feeling almost unconsciously flashing out in the few pages his genius has left us. Thomas Gray was born in Cornhill, London, on the 26th of December, 17 16. His father, Philip Gray, was a money-scrivener. Though nominally a ' respectable citi- zen,' and comparatively wealthy, he was a man of harsh and violent disposition. He treated his family with such brutal severity and neglect, that his wife was forced to separate from him. It was to the exertions of this excel- lent woman, as partner with a sister in the millinery busi- ness, that Gray owed the advantages of a learned educa- tion. The painful domestic circumstances of his youth gave him a tinge of melancholy and pensive reflection, which makes itself visilDle in all his writings. For the 77 78 LIFK OF GRAY. mother, to whose solicit^'dc and self-sacrificing devotion he owed so much, he ever entertained the highest respect and always manifested a tender filial regard. Of Gray's boyhood days almost nothing is known. At a comparatively early age, he entered Eton under the charge of Mr. Antrobus, a maternal uncle, at that time one of the assistants in the school. Here began his friendship with Horace Walpole, son of the celebrated prime minister, Sir Robert Walpole. Here, too, he formed his first acquaintance with Richard West, son of the Chancellor of Ireland. With the latter, similar tastes and congeniality of pursuits ripened into a very warm attachment which was terminated only by the untimely death of West. Bryant, a fellow-student, afterwards a voluminous writer, and eacretary to Marlborough, speaks of Gray's figure as small and elegant, his manners deli- cate and refined, and his morals without a stain. In a public school, where not to be riotous is to be unpopular, such characteristics would win slight regard. He dis- liked all rough exercise, and seldom was seen in the fields. Amongst the other pupils, his shrinking nature and solitary habits passed for affectation and pride. Le^t to a great extent to his own fancies and meditations, he "began," as he tells us, "to take pleasure in reading Virgil for his own amusement, and not in school hours as a task." In the midst of this semi-seclusion, his uncheck- ered life passed on until he entered Peterhouse, Cam- bridge, in 1734. Of his college life little more can be gathered than, that he was not a very ardent student, and that he disliked both the mode of life and the ' fashion of study.' During his residence at college, he wrote a few minor poems : lAuia Habitabilis^ Verses on the Mar- riage of the Prince of Wales, a Sapphic Ode to West, and some translations. =1 fi LIKE OF GRAY. 79 In 1739, '^t the request uf Horace Walpole, (iray accom- panied him in his travels abr. ad, and, from his letters to West and his own family, we have a tolerably accurate account of his pursuits. He wrote a minute description of everything he saw on his tour from Rome to Naples. His impressjons are given like sun-pictures, with the glowing truthfulness of life. He not only sketched in an inimitable manner the customs and manners of the peo- ple, but gave evidence of .1 fine taste and extensive learn- ing, by his critical observations on arts and antiquities. At Florence, he made a collection of music chiefly em- bracing the works of the old Italian masters. At Reggio, 'the companions quarrelled and parted. The cause of the disagreement has not been ascertained. About three years afterwards, by the intervention of a lady, a partial recon- ciliation was effected, and Walpole redeemed his youthful error b) a life-long admiration and respect for his friend. From Reggio, Gray proceeded to Venice, thence he trav- elled homewards by nearly the s;ime route as he had come to Italy, revisiting the monastery of (irande Chart- reuse situated near Grenoble in France. Here he wrote some beautiful verses in the monastery album. A letter to his mother gives in prose the spirit of these lines. " The enormous precipices, the frowning clififs, the over- hanging woods of beech and fir, and the torrents descend- ing with the crash of thunder," combined with the solemn associations of the scene to kindle his imagination and awaken his muse. After an absence of about two years and a half, he arrived in England in September 1741. Within two months after his return his father died. The poet's mother, husbanding her remaining property, sought a home with a widowed sister at Stoke, near Windsor. Gray himself retraced his steps to Cambridge and took his Bachelor's degree in Civil Law, although his limited 8o LIFE OF GKAY. fortune would not permit him to finish this, his intended course. Here he spent the remainder of his uneventful life, with the exception of nearly three years' residence in London. He became a sort of literary hermit, whose chief pleasure seemed to consist in continually poring over books. Shortly after going to Cambridge he began his tragedy of As^rippina^ and submitted the tirst portion of it to his friend, West, who objected amongst other things to the antiquated style in which it was written. Although Gray warmly defended the style he never completed the tra- gedy. During the early part of this summer (1742), he wrote his Ode to Springy and sent it to the same critic, but it was returned unopened ; his beloved friend having died of consumption before the poem reached its destina- tion. Gray had other warm friends, but none that could fill the place of West. Years afterwaids, we are assured, he scarcely ever mentioned his name without a sigh. The Ode to Springs a short poem of five stanzas, exhibits in a striking manner Gray's admiration of the beautiful in nature, his acute observation, and his accurate taste ; although it is overcast by that shadow of melan- choly, which seemed to color every word and act of the author's life. Even Dr. Johnson, whose coarse and unjust criticism exhibits his bitter dislike for Gray, was forced to admit that this Ode " has something poetical both in the language and in the thought." In the autumn of this year he wrote his Ode on a dis- tant prospect of Eton College^ and his Hymn to Adversity. In the former he, with true poetic fervor, gives a compre- hensive description of the surrounding scenery, and in happy terms depicts the school-boy's sports and joys ; but even here, on this scene of pleasing memories, the I.iFK Ol- (IKAV. 8i poet's iincon.rollablc melancholy breaks out. No glim- mer of sunshine is to brighten the life of these careless youths, but "seized by black Misfortune's baleful train, these shall the fury Passions tear." The rapid sketch of the inevitable evils that are to befall man, is given with much power, but it is unfortunately marred by a sombre gloom which was doubtless deepened by the poet's sor- row over the recent death of West. Though the Ode to Adversity is somewhat tinged with the poet's 'tendency' it is still imposing and beautiful. Johnson says, " of this piece, at once poetical and rational, I will not by slight objections violate the dignity." In 1744, he consented to write a poem for Walpole On the death of a favorite Cat, This playful and elegant poem is spoiled to a great extent by a want of harmony in the images. During the year 1747, he became acquainted with Mr. Mason, then a scholar of St. John's College. To Mason we are indebted for many of the particulars of Gray's ife. After the death of the poet, he collected his letters, sketched his life, anc' edited his poems. About this time, Gray began his poem. On the Alliance of Education and Government^ but completed only about a hundred lines. Mason thinks he dropped it on finding his best thoughts forestalled by Montesquieu, (iray himself said ' he could not,' on account of the great labor. The few lines given us are, however, excellent, brilliant, and pointed. Dr. Warton said that this poem would have equalled Pope's Essay on Man, if the author had finished it. In the year 1750, his Elci^y in a Country Church-yard received the last corrections and was published by Dods- ley. Shortly after this time, he was induced to write TJie Lon^ Story, in return for hospitality shown him by Lady Cobham, at the Stoke Manor House. Throughout this A 6 M# 8a T,IFK OF OKAY. poem there is a studied attempt at humor which ill be- comes (iray. The author, conscious of its defects, omit- ted it from his collected works. In March 1753, he lost the mother whom he had so lon^ and affectionately loved. Over her remains he placed an inscription which strongly expresses his res- pect and sorrow. In one expression, ^* Here sleep the remains of Dorothy (iray, the tender mother of many children, one of whom alone had the misfortune to sur- vive her," there is prominently indicated the deep-seated melancholy so characteristic of his nature. The year 1756 was marked by one of the few changes of his uneventful life. His residence at Peterhouse had not been free from annoyances His rooms were on the middle floor, the adjoining apartments being occupied by riotous undergraduates. Irritated beyond endurance by repeated off'ensive acts, he complained to the authorities. Little attention being paid to his remonstrance, he be- came displeased and removed to Pembroke Hall, which, indeed, afforded him a calm and pleasant retreat, but which at the same time served to shut him more and more out from the world and thus to deepen the gloom at his heart. In 1757, he published The Progress -of Poesy and The Bard. Walpole in one of his letters writes : " I send you two copies of a very honorable opening of my press — two amazing odes of Mr. Gray. They are Greek, they are Pindaric, they are sublime, consequently, I fear, a little obscure ; the second particularly, by the confinement of the measure and the nature of prophetic vision, is myste- rious. I could not persuade him to add more notes." Both these poems at first met with opposition rather than favor. The great objection to them was their obscurity. So much was this felt that two parodies, entitled Odes to lAVV OF C.RAY. S3 Obscurity and Obli\ossess- d, they 3 praise injury, i, while i-will of, ridation ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCH-YARD. INTRODUCTION. The EU', and circumstance of glorious war." Po"wer. \joX. posse, to be able; potis, able, and esse, to be; Fr. pouvoir. 35 Await. Gray's MS. and an edition of 1768 have awaits, but this cannot be justified on grammatical grounds. Alike. The great, the noble, the fair and the rich can no more escape death than the poor. Alike is an adverb. 36 The paths . . grave. A Canadian will insensibly associate this line with the memory of Wolfe. See Fifth Reader i Campbells' series, page 243, and observe Wolfe's testi* THE ELEGY. Ill Fr. Ani- mony to the genuine poetry of the Elegyi : "I would rather have written those lines than take Quebec to-morrow." Wolfe's own fate is a striking illustration of the truth contained in this Ime. But=only, adverbial to the phrase, to tJu: gi-ave. 37 Nor you . . raise. These two lines were first written : ♦' Forgive, ye proud, th' involuntary fault. If memory to these no trophies raise." Nor. . fault. M it ford says : '' This has always appeared to me to be a very flat and unpoetical expression." These. Who ? Ye has here a demonstrative force. 38 Memory =: remembering ones. Trophies, (ir. Tftoitaiov ; rponrf, a turn; Tf)e7toj, to turn ; Lat. tropiciim ; Y\. trophtc. Cf. Shaks. : " There lie thy bones Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb." Originally, trophies were memorials of victory erected on the spot where the enemy had turned to flignt. IMiese memorials consisted of helmets, shields, etc., placed upon the trunk of a tree, or upon a mcund raised for that purpose. Gradually these memorials came to be preserved in some temple. And finally, on the death of any individual, distinguished especially for warlike achievements, the memorials were suspended over, or placed above his tomb. 39 Where . . praise. This clause is adverbial to raise. Long-drawn aisle. "This expression pictures the long narrow vista of the aisle of a cathedral or large church."— Chambers. Aisle. Lat. ala^ a wing ; Fr. ailc. Gray wrote it He. Fretted. Fret is a kind of angular ornament, formed by small fillets interlacing each other at right angles. Parker in his Glossary of Architecttire derives the word from the Lat. fretum, a strait ; another derivation suggested is Lat. fcrrutn^ iron. It. /errata^ an iron grating. The most natural derivation seems to be A. S. fnciivian, to adorn ; fratu^ an ornament. Cf. Milton : "The roof was fretted gold." Vault=?arched roofer ceiling; Lat. volvere, vohu'us, to roll; rt^//V7]ur/i fame, from q>r}m, to say ; Lat., It. and Sp. fama ; Yx.fame, Elegy. The first reading was epitaph. Fame and elegy. What is meant? Text. This refers to a common prac/ue of inscribing pas- sai^es of Scripture on the tomb-stones. 84 That teach. "As this construction is nf)t, as it now stands, correct, I think Gray originally wrote '"'to teach,'''' but altered it afterwards, eiiphonue gratia^ and made the grammar give way to the >ound " — Milford. Otlvrs wouUl justify it as a " construction according to sense. " This seems unnecessary, since it is not in accordance with the best usage. THE ELEGY. 121 To die is the immediate, moralist, the remote or dative object of teach. Rustic moralist. This may mean either the peasant who practises morality, or the one who simply philosophizes there- upon. How do you reconcile the fact of the rustic readin^^ the inscriptions with what is niiplied in 1. 115 ? 85 For who, etc. Carlisle says " there is much tender beauty" in this ami the succeeding sta. '*No, sir, there are but two good stanzas in Gray's poetry, which are in his 'Elegy in a Country Church-yard.' He then repeated the stanza : * For who to dumb forgetfulness a prey.' etc. mistaking one word ; for instead of precincts he said confines. He added, 'The other stanza 1 forget.'" — X^o'-.wq^W Johnson. For is merely an introductory particle, being unnecessary to complete the sense. Prey is in apposition with being. The meaning of this and the following line is "whoever willingly resigned this life of pleasure and anxiety to be utterly neglected and forgotten" ? Who . . e'er, for whoever, an instance of tmesis. 87 Warm. Why? Precincts^: limits or confines. Lat. pra, before, cingere, to gird. Cheerful. Gr. X^^'^P'^i joy J F'"- ^"^^er^, entertainment j Gray wrote chearfiil. Sec Earle's Philology, sec. 181-7. 88 Nor cast . . behind. Supply that. This clause is adjectival to lahoezier the subject of the preceding. Notice the happy effect of alliteration. Cf. Byron, " Foremosi, fighting fell." There are several other instances of this poetic artifice in the the Elegy. Quote them. 89 On . . fires. This sta. contains an example of climax. We have death, after death, after burial, and even after that. Parting. See note on 1. i. 90 Pious— tffectionate. Lat. pins; Cf. Ovid, " pia? lacrini-i. Pope, lacriiiKe ; Horace, "dcbila Unfortnnate Lady, 49 : " No friend's comp'aint, no kind domestic tear P By foreig Elegy on an iCas'd thy pale glio.^t, or giac'd thy mournful bier ; V foreign hands thy dying eyes were closed." 122 THE ELEGY. 91 K'en, an adverb emphasizing the phrase, from the tomb. 92 There were several readings for this line before the final selection was made : *' And buried ashes glow with social fires." " And in our ashes glow," etc. Mason says : *' In the first edition it stood, * Awake and faithful to her wonted fires,* "and I think rather better. He means to say in plain prose, that we wish to be remembered by our friends after our death, in the same manner as when alive we wished to be remembered by them in our absence ; this would be expressed clearer, if the metaphorical term * fires' was rejected, and the line run thus : * Awake and faithful to her first desires. ' I do not put this alteration down for the idle vanity of aiming to amend the passage, but purely to explain it." Mitford paraphrases this couplet thus : ' ' The voice of Nature still cries from the tomb in the language of the epitaph inscribed upon it, which still endeavors to connect us with the living ; the fires of former affection are still alive beneath our ashes." Cf. Chaucer, C. T., 3880: *' Yet in our ashes cold is fire yreken" (raked). Gray himself quotes Petrarch, Sonnet 169. Ashes. Explain how the term ashes comes to mean bodily remains. 93 For thee . . fate. This sta. originally stood thus : ** If chance that e'er some pensive spirit more, By sympathetic musings here delay'd. With vain, though kind inquiry shall explore Thy once-lov'd haunt, this long-deserted shade." For thee, connected with may say in 1. 97. In this construc- tion. Haply . . say is the principal clause \ If . . fate, is subor- dinate adverbial to it. Thee. Does this mean Gray himself? Unhonor'd dead. Cf. neglected spot, 1. 45. 94 Artless. Give the force of this word. 95 Chance =perchance, an adverb. Lonely, contracted from rt/t;«t'/j/=all-one (ly). By . . led, an attributive adjunct o{ spirit. THE ELEGY. 123 )) Contemplation. Milton, * ' For contemplation he, and valor formed. 96 Kindred, from/'m, A.S. cyn, kin ; Ger. kind, a child ; Gr. yevvdoDf to beget; yevo's race; Lat. nascor, to be born ; genus, race ; Fr. genre. Some kindred spirit, that is some one of a similar, meditative nature. 98 Peep of dawn. Ct. Milton, Comus, 138 : " Ere the blabbing eastern scout The nice morn, on the Indian steep From her cabin'd loop-hole peep." 99 Brushing . . lawn. This phrase is adjectival to hhn. Cf. Milton, Arcades, 50 : " And from the boughs brush off the evil dew." .^. Z.,V. 428: ' ' Though from off the boughs each morn, We brush mellifluous flowers." 100 Upland lawn=an area of grass at the summit of a hill. This line was first written thus : '* On the high brow of yonder hanging lawn." Lawn, which is only another form of land, is now generally understood to mean a level grassy surface in front of or around a house. Cf. Traveller, 1. 319. 101 The following excellent sta. came in here in Gray's first MS., but was afterwards omitted : •' Him have we seen the greenwood side along, While o'er the heath we hied, our labour done, Oft as the woodlark pip'd her farewell song, With wistful eyes pursue the setting sun." Mason said : "I rather wonder that he rejected this stanza, as it not only has the same sort of Doric delicacy which charms us peculiarly in this part of the poem, but also completes the account of his whole day ; whereas, this evenmg scene benig omitted, we have only his morning walk, and his noontide repose." Nodding. Tn botany this term means drooping, and was probably suggested by Gray's botanical studies. 124 THE ELEGY. 102 Fantastic roots. The roots of an old beech often rise above the ground, and assume curiously twisted forms. Cf. Spenser, Rtiines of Rome, sta. 28 : *' Showing her wreathed roots and naked armes." 103 His listless length, etc. Spenser's Brittain's Ida^ III. 2 : " Her goodly length stretcht on a lilly-bed." "Noontide = the time of noon. Noon. A. S. non ; Old Ger. none] Old Fr. none. Sup- posed to be derived from Lat. nona ( /lora), the ninth hour, at which the chief meal of the Romans was eaten. Tide=:time. A. S. tid, time; tidan, to happen ; Ger. zeit, time. 104 Babbles. Heb. ba^'el, confusion ; Gr. fSafhiq>0Oy to prattle; Fr. bahillcr ; Ger. babbdn. Cf. Horace, Od. III. 13: " unde loquaces Lymphx' desiliunt tuce." Thomson, Spi-ing, 644 : " Divided by a babbling brook." 105 Hard . . scorn. Another reading is : *' With gestures quaint, now smiling as in scorn." Hard by = near by, close by. Hard is an adverb modifying the phrase following. Smiling as in scorn, a participial phrase adjectival to the subject he. As in scorn, analyze thus : — as (he would smile) (if he ivere smiling) in scorn. Cf. Skelton, Prol. to B. ofC.x '' Smylynge half in scorne At our foly." 106 Muttering . . fancies, adverbial to 7C'otild rove. See Holu to Purse, par. 26 r. The first MS. had would he rove. 107 Drooping . . love. Attributive adjunct of he (un- derstood), the subject o{ ivould rove to be supplied. Smiling, drooping. These words express the varied moods in which the youth is alternately found : — now stniling, now drooping. THE ELEGY. 125 often Sup- 'Woeful-wan. In Gray's corrected MS. tliis is written woeful-wan. If this be accepted as the correct reading, then the compound epithet will mean ivoefully ivan, that is, wan to such a degree as to indicate a feeling of woe or intense mis- ery. If written without the hyphen the expression must be taken to mean 7voefnl and wan. "SAToeful-wan is adjectival to he. Like, here an adjective qualifying he. One. Parsed as an indefmite pronoun in the objective case after to understood. 108 Graz'd, cross'd, WkQjbrlom qualify one. 109 On. Gray first wrote from. Gustom'd = accustom'd. This word is now obsolete in this sense. 110 Near. Parse. See note on 1. ii. 111 Another came. Another morn came. Rill, contracted from Lat. I'iviiliis. Cf. Milton : " From ? thousand petty rills." ^Wood. In what sense used ? 113 The next (morn came). ^With . . array, an adverbial phrase connected with borne. Dirges. From dirige, a solemn service in the Catholic Church, being a hymn beginning dirige grcssiis nieos. Due. Lat. deberc, to ov/e ; Fr. da, past participle oi devoir, to owe. Array. Cf. meaning in Traveller, 1. 171. 114 Slow=slowly, an adverb qualifying borne, Church-vs^ay path. Cf. Shaks., Alids. A\ Dream, V. 2 : ** Now it is the time of night. That the graves all gaping wide. Every one lets forth his sprite In the church way paths to glide." Church-way path=church-yard path. Church. — Gr. Htpto^, a lord; oihoS, a house. Cf. A. S. riree. Him borne. See note on Traveller, 1, 41. 115 For merely introduces the parenthetical clause. 126 THE ELEGY. For thou canst. This parenthetical clause implies that the * hoary-headed swain' himself could not read. Lay. A. S. ley^ a song; Ger. lied ; It. lai : Old F . lai^ lais, from Lat. lessits^ a funeral lamentation. The exigencies of rhyme compelled Gray to use this word in place of epitaph. 116 Grav'd. Why not craven / A. S. grafan ; Ger. graben ; Gr. yfiaqtoa ; Fr. grey -67' . Before ; le epitaph, \r:. MS :ontvuns, 'h ; follo\ung onatted sta. : *' There scattered oft, ti^e cndiesl of the year. By hands unseen are frequent v .'ets found ; The robin loves to build and warble ihere. And little footsteps lightly print ihe ground." "This stanza was printed in some of the first editions, but afterwards omitted because Mr. Gray thought (and in my opinion very justly) that it was too long a parenthesis in this place. The lines, however, are in themselves exquisitely fine, and demand preservation." — Mason. Gray himself in writing to Dr. Beattie in regard to this omission, said : *' As to description, I have always thought that it made the most graceful ornament of poetry, but never ought to make the subject." 117 Lap of Earth. Cf. Spenser, F. Q., Y. y : *' P'or other beds the priests there used none, But on their Mother Earth's deare lap did lie." Milton, P, Z., X. 777 : " How glad would lay me down, As in my mother' i lap." By this beautiful figure (metaphor) he is made to rest in his grave (the lap of earth) like a tired child in the lap of its mother. 118 Youth, the subject of rests. 119 Fro^vv^n'd not=smiled, an example of litotes. 120 Melancholy. See note on Traveller^ 1. i. For--^as, and is redundant. See How to Parse^ par. 209. Her O'wn . See note on Trauellery 1. 30. 1"1 Large was his bounty. An instance of hyperba- ton. Sincere, usually derived from Lat. sine, without, and cera^ wax, meaning honey free from wax. 122 As is here used absolutely, not correlatively. THEjELEGY. 127 Largely=]aige. Why so written ? 123 Which is the appositi^ e, all ox tear ( All ' a had. Some editions tncUxsc these words in a par- enthesi^ Tiray's MS. ^Ives it as in the text. 124 Wliat is tht object of tcvV/V.^ The 1 Mrd aud fourth lines of this stanza respectively explain the first and second. 126 Dra w, an infinitive in the same construction as dis- close^ which is adverbial to seek. This is evident from the first MS. draft in which Gray wrote : "No farther seek his merits to disclose, • Nor seek to draw them from their dread aljode." Mitford would have it Nor drazo. Draw would then be an imperative, co-ordinate with seek. Dread abode. This is amplified and explained by the V\J line. ^27 Alike, an adverb qualifying repose. In trembling hope. Gray himself refers to Petrai..h, Sonnet f 104: '"'' Faveiitosa speme,''' Cf. Lucan, Pharsalia^ VII. 297: '"'• Spe trepidaj''' Mallet, Funeral ffymn, 473 : *' With trembling tenderness of hope and fear." Beaumont, Psyche, XV. 314: *' Divided here 'twixt trembling hope and fear." QUESTIONS FOR EXAMINATION. TIIK TRAVKLLER. 1 Sketch the plan of the Traveller. i. 2 What is its nominal object, and how far is that object at- tained ? 3 What poet did G. imitate in the form of his poetry ? 4 What pc2t took f 1. for his model, and how far was he suc- cessful in imitating; him ? What poems did he write in imita- tion? 5 To what variety of poetry does the Traveller h^iVm^'i Make a list of poems belonging to this variety, with authors and dates. 6 Write a brief sketch of the person to whom the Traveller is dedicated. 7 What change took place, during the age of Johnson, in the method by which authors introduced their works to the public? 8 (^uote the lines containing the thesis which the poet sets out to prove. 9 Contrast after G. the ' blessings' of * nature' and 'art.' 10 Discuss the opinions advanced in 11. 91-92. 11 W^rite a synopsis of 11. 1-98. 12 Explain heart unt ravelled, fieeting good, hundred realms^ I. 41, his gods, J^airiof's boast, this favorite good, these truths. 13 Reproduce in your own language G.'s description of Italy and the Italians. How far is his description correct? How far was his delineation of the character of the inhabitants just, when he wrote ? How far does it apply at present ? 14 Compare the real products of Italy with those mentioned by G. in his description. 15 What were the causes of the decline of Italian commerce? 16 What nations have successively controlled the commerce of Europe ? - 17 Define assonance and quote couplets which are examples of it. A 9 129 130 QUESTIONS FOR EXAMINATION, 1 8 Quote lines containing examples of alliteration. 19 Whence was alliteration introduced into modern English? 20 Who were the leading painters, sculptors, and architects of the period of the revival of art in Italy ? 21 Name and locate the chief commercial cities of medix'val Italy. In what did their commerce consist, and with whom was it carried on ? 22 What story is connected with the writing of 11. 153-4? 23 Write brief notes on gelid wings, pregnant quarry ^ plethoric ill, stormy mansion, strugi^ling savage, finer jcy, gentler morals. 24 Criticise the description of the climate, physical features, and productions of Switzerland. 25 Give in your own language the substance of G.'s reasoning about the inhabitants of "barren States," and examine the cor- rectness of his conclusions. 26 Why has the poet depreciated the climate and productions of Switzerland ? 27 What would you infer as to G.'s appreciation of the sub- lime in nature, from his description of Swiss scenery ? 28 Point out the finer touches in the delineation of the French character. 29 Quote any lines which specially exhibit G.'s (a) humor, (()) power of description. 30 Criticise the reasoning in 11. 269-280. 31 What peculiarity of the poetry of the eighteenth century is seen in 11. 273-280 ? 32 Point out any particulars in which G. has unjusc y cen- sured the French, and make what additions seem necessary to a complete description of the French character. 33 Make a list of leading French authors of G.'s time, and characterize their influence upon subsequent European thought and action. 34 Point out the particulars in which G. is unjust to the Dutch. 35 Refer to historical events in proof of the bravery and pat- riotism of the Dutch. 36 Quote some of the happier expressions used in the de- scription of Holland. 37 What are " those ills" referred to in 1. 302 ? 38 Tell what you know of the canals and dykes of Holland. ■^9 Name the principal lakes of Holla^nd^ QUESTIONS FOR EXAMINATION. 131 40 Examine the relationship existing between the ancestors of the Dutch and English. 41 Draw a diagram of the Teutonic languages, shewing clearly how the English and Dutch are related. 42 Quote lines which contain alkisions to the poet's personal history. 43 Characterize (J. 's description of the climate, scenery, and inhabitants of Britain. 44 Compare the description of the peasantry in the different countries described. 45 ^f '• 333 ^'6 taken to mean that the English peasant exer- cised the right of franchise, how far is it correct ? 46 Mention the different Acts by which the franchise has since been extended. 47 What "ills" are represented as arising in England from freedom ? 48 Explain the historical allusions in 11. 345-6. 49 Compare the injurious effects of wealth upon the English and the Dutch, according to the poet. 50 What other writer has predicted a fate similar to that depicted in II. 359-360 ? 51 Illustrate II. 356, 358 by prominent examples. 52 Quote the apostrophe to Freedom. 53 Mention the leading periodicals of G.'s time, specifying those to which he contributed. 54 Give the names of the nine original members of the Lit- erary Club. 55 What was G.'s relation to the Johnsonian circle ? 56 Examine the statements made in II. 373-6. 57 What events of the time, probably, suggested to the poet the opinions expre-'^ed in 11. 381-5? 58 Sketch the auempts of George III. to render the kingly power supreme. 59 Cite, from English history, instances illustrating 1. 394. 60 In what sense is the king said to be the 'source of honor'? 61 (^uote the lines that were written by Dr. Johnson. 62 Sketch the prevalent tendencies of G.'s age from a literary and from a political standpoint. 63 Quote the part of the Traveller which forms the text for the Deserted Village, 132 QUESTIONS FOR EXAMINATION 64 To what extent is this poem a reflex of the sentiments and mode of expression of Dr. Johnson ? 65 What title did Dr. Johnson propose for the Traveller 1 66 Quote the lines containing the conclusion at which the poet professes to arrive. 67 Point out all deviations from strict grammatical construc- tion in the Traveller. 68 To what school of poetry does G. belong? 69 Wliat variety of poetry was prevalent during the eighteenth century ? 70 Who were the leading actors, dramatists, poets, novelists, and historians of G.'s age ? 71 Mow many editions of the Traveller were published duiing the poet's lifetime ? 72 "No other poems from Gray's Odes to Cowper's Table- Talk can be said to have lived." What poems are referred to p 73 What reasons had G. for thinking that the Traveller would not meet with popular approval ? 74 Make a list of G. 's poetical and prose works. 75 Give the history of the production of the Traveller^ and point out the influence of its publication upon G.'s social standing. 76 How was the Traveller introduced to public notice ? 77 Name G.'s dramatic works and characterize them. 78 What are the different varieties of poetry ? 79 When was rhyme introduced into English poetry ? 80 Select lines beginning with trochees or spondees. 8i Who were the poets-laureate during the life of G. ? 82 What poet was most popular in fashionable circles when G. wrote? 83 What is the chief charm of G.'s style ? 84 Give an account of English politics during the last ton years of G.'s life. 85 Illustrate fiom the Traveller any of the defects of G.'s style. 86 Write notes on the proper names in the poem, 87 What, according to the poet, is the 'favorite good" of the diffcent nations reviewed? 88 Trace the changes in G.'s social position, from his attend- ance upon the 'beggars of Axe Lane,' till he became intimate with the chief literary men of his time. (WKSTrONS FOR EXAMINATION. 133 and the 89 Give an accoun' of the condition of poets and poetry dur- ing tlie age of G. 90 Sketch the life of the great political economist of this period, and state in what respects the poet's theories conflict with those advanced by this great writer. 91 What contemporary poet made poetry a vehicle for politi- cal warfare ? 92 What two great moralifies are inculcated in this poem? 93 Mention the different schools at which G. received his education. 94 Name the successive occupations in which G. was engaged during his life. 95 Which was the first novel of English domestic life? Char- acterize it. 96 Who have written biographies of G. ? 9/ What are the leading characteristics of the dramatic litera- ture of this period ? 98 Trace the influence of the jnil:)lication of Percy's Neliqiws, upon poetical literature. 99 Account for the jwpularity of the rhyming couplet. Name leading poems in wiiich it is emj^loyed, and point out to what variety of poetry it is best adai)ted. 100 To what extent are the following lines from the pen of Garrick a correct delineation of the character of G. ? ** Here, ITermes, says Jove, who with nectar was mellow, Go fetch me some clay— I will make an odd fellow : Right and wrong shall be jund)le(l, much gold and some dross, Without cause be he pleased, without cause be he cross ; Be sure, as I work, to throw in contradictions, A great love of truth, yet a mind turn'd to fictions ; Now mix tliese ingredients, w hich, warm'd in the baking, Turn'd to /eariiiiiii and ^^ainiNg, nii\i:i<>n and raking'. With the love of a wench, let his writings be chaste ; Tip hi> tongue with strange matter, liis lips with line taste That the rake and the poet o'er all may prevail, Set fire to the head and set fire to the tail ; For the joy of each sex on the world I'll bestow it. This scholar, rake. Christian, dupe, gamester, and poet. Though a mixture so odd, he shall merit great fame, And among brother mortals be Goldsmith his name ; When on earth this strange meteor no more shall appear, You, Hermes, shall fetch him, to make us sport here." 134 QUESTIONS FOR EXAMINATION. THE ELEGY. 1 Where was the Elc^ written ? 2 What are the leading thoughts contained in it ? 3 What constitutes the peculiar charm of the poem ? 4 Describe the metre. W^hat other poems prior to the Elegy were written in similar quatrains? 5 What is an Elegy? Make a list of Elegiac poems, with dates and authors. 6 Distinguish Elegy, Epitaph and Dirge. 7 Sketch the history of the production of the Elegy. 8 Give a chronological list of Gray's works. 9 W^rite a sketch of the life of the person who exercised the greatest influence on literature, during the eighteenth century. 10 Give a history of the curfew in England, and state mean- ing of this word in the first line. 1 1 Compare the power of description of Gray and Goldsmith, illustrating by passages from the Traveller and Elegy. 12 In 1. 6, wdiat is the subject oi holds? Why? 13 Save,\. 7. Give the history of this word. Similar words. 14 What is meant by Icnvly bed in 1. 20 ? 15 Quote examples of alliteration and imperfect rhyme. What are the requirement, of perfect rhyme? 16 Derive curfeiv, lea, landscape, solemn, tinklings, ancient, clarion. 17 Explain parting, 1. 5, droning fiight, ivy-mantled, secret, rude, 1. 17, echoing horn. 18 How many editions of the EAegy were published during the aathor's lifetime ? Into what languages has it been trans- lated ? 19 Give the substance of G.'s criticism of Gray, published in the Monthly Review, 20 Explain stubborn glebe, ambition, grandiur, boast of her- aldry, trophies, long-drauni aisle. 21 W'rite a note on Heraldry. 22 With what incident in Canadian history is 1. 36 insepara- bly connected ? 23 Derive sire, stnbbor)i, ambition, poor, pomp, beauty, tro- phies, fretted, anthem, vault. QUESTIONS FOR EXAMINATION. .>3 24 Quote Dr. Johnson's opinion of the Elegy^ and criticize it. 25 Relate the circumstances attending its publication. 26 Sketch the part taken by Hampden in the defence of Eng- lish liberty. 27 Village Hampden. \^\\y village ? 28 Give an account of Milton, and his writings. 29 Mtite inglorious Milton. In your opinion would it be possible for a person possessing such a mind to remain in ob- scurity? Why? 30 Write an outline of Cromwell's life and character. 31 In 1. 60, Gray implies that Cromwell was guilty 0/ his country's olood. What is your opinion? Advance reasons in supfX)rt of your position. 32 Write notes on storied urn, animated bust, honor's voice, neglected spot, living lyj'c, spoils of Time, rage, 1. 52, purest ray serene, little tyrant. 33 State in your own words the meaning of .>ta. 14. 34 What church-yards c'^im the honor of having been the scene of the Elegy ? 35 What are the leading characteristics of Gray's poetical and prose writings ? 36 What reasons have been advanced for Johnson's contempt of Groy's production^ ? 37 Who were the leading parliamentary orators about the time of the writing of the Elegy ? 38 Quote examples from English History illustrative of 1. 67. 39 Refer to instance.^ of the fulsome flattery of the dedications of the eighteenth century. 40 Quote from other poets, expressions depreciatory of trade, similar to that in 1. 73. 41 Mention the Muses, with the province of literature assigned to each. 42 Explain II. 61-C4, growing virtues, 1. 63, Muscsjla:ne, aiding, these bones, passing tribute of a sigh, unletter'd muse, rustic moralist. 43 Derive alone, mercy, frail, uncouth, elegy, text^ moralist. 44 Explain the origin of the custom of interring in the church- yard . 45 Mention English poets who are distinguished for high Qulture., /;/ 136 QUESTIONS FOR EXAMINATION. m 46 What is the grammatical construction in 11. 85, 86? 47 Repeat sta, 23, and point out its beaufies, 48 Forthcc. In what other poems does Gray refer to himself? 49 Babbles. Quote other examples of onomatopoetic words. 50 Explain warm precincts, pious drops, wonted fires, upland laivti. 51 Whom did Gray profess to adopt as his model ? 52 Point out every allusion in this poem to events of the time and condition of the people. 53 What was the state of education among the masses in Gray's time? 54 Give the synonyms of lay in 1. 115, and criticise its use there. 55 Repeat from memory, the Epitaph with which the Elegy closes. 56 Discuss the grammatical construction of 11. 117, 118. 57 Is this Epitaph a correct delineation of the character of the person for whom it was intended ? Give your reasons. 58 How can \\\?> frailties be said to have their dread abode in the bosom of his Father and his God? 59 Yj\\i\^\\\ another came, chiirch-zoay, 1. li9, dread abode, 1. 128. 60 Point out and criticise all deviations from grammatical accuracy in this poem. 61 Point out all peculiarities in the scansion. 62 Select examples of the most prominent figures of speech in the Ele^y. Would you consider the poem overloaded with figures ? 63 Quote any pa allel passages from the Traveller Toci^ Elegy. 64 Contrast G. and Gray as poets, and as prose writers. 65 Dr. Johnson has called Gray a 'mechanical poet.' Ex- amine thi^ F'lj.tement. 66 Tell vvi'ui you know of Gray's intimate friends. 67 Draw up sci"x-s of contrasts between G. and Gray, (a) as to their lives, (b) their chm-acter, (c) llieir culture. 68 What .•iv'ulences of Cniy's extensive reading are seen in his Elegy ? 69 Wha': wtrt. tii^^ d'fiferent stuc'ies to which Gray devoted his attention ? ()l'ESriO\S FOR KXAMiNAIlON, 137 70 To whom are wc chiefly indebied for the i)arliculars of dray's life ? 71 What was Gray"s opinion of CloUlsniith ? 72 What objection wa'- at first uiLjed against (Iray's poclry? 73 What tribute has (iray i)ai(] to Walpole'h statesmanship, in the Elegy '^ 74 Examine tlie force of the objections advanced l)y W'ords- worth against Gray's poetry. 75 Specify the chief changes and alteration- math- in the lilci^v after tlie pul)]ication of the first edition. FINIS.