iversity of Califorj Southern Regional Library Facility UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES 0- > (," ^Jy l^uv-^^c ?«,Axv vr*-fw«i j (V/a.',> I- .Wc.: .r(i.:r 0:V1A3 GRAY, .■W .Vii'f ss^j4'tf-hf ,.,Von'ii.t/i . f.xu&/,ite THE WORKS OF THOMAS GRAY; VOL. I. CONTAINING THE POEMS, ■■i WITH CRITICAL NOTES; m A LIFE OF THE AUTHOR; AND AN ESSAY ON HIS POETRY; BY THE REV. JOHN MITFORD. LONDON: PRINTED FOR J. MAWMAN, S9, LUDGATE-STREET, BY S. HAMILTON, WEVBRIDGE, SURTiFi'. 1810. "^Tf? S\^,r^ ;,-niit7 :«* V^.'^^ . / /}/rf^/f , , irt»**iM/.- . ^taAfaif* J'.'/:- AS-h - J a TIIE LIFE OF THOMAS GRAY, ESQ. \ t Thomas Gray, the subject of the present narrative, was the fifth child of Mr. Philip Gray, a respectable citizen and money- scrivener in London. His grandfather was also a considerable merchant in that place. The maiden name of his mother was Dorothy Antrobus. Thomas* was born in Cornhill, the 26th of December 1716; and was the only one of twelve children who * In the Onomasticon Literarium of Saxius, vol. vii. p. loG, is an account of Gray, full of singular mistakes : " Johannes Gray, Carminum Sciiptor, et Historicus Cantabriclgiensis, (lui socialis Gulielmi Guthrie, et aliorum operis, Historite Universce Corpus, (in Tlieotiscum postca Sermonem versum, animadversionibusque Ciirist. Gotll. Heynii locupletatuiii) adornavit." Gray was not likely either to compose an Universal History, or to select such a coadjutor at Guthrie; concerning whom, he once wrote the following sentence : " Guthrie, you see, has vented himself in the Critical Review ; his History I never saw, nor is it here, nor do 1 know any one that ever saw it. He is a rascal, but rai,cali may chance to meet with cuiious records," 8ic. See Walpole's Works, vol. v. p. 380. VOL. I. a .1 c n TIIF. LIFE OF GRAY. survived. Tlie rest died in their infancy, iVotn suffocation, pro- duced by a fullness of blood : and he owed his life to a me- morable instance of the love and courage of his mother, who re- moved the paroxysm, which attacked him, by opening a vein with her own hand : an instance of affection that seems to have been most tenderly preserved by him through his after-life, repaid with care and attention, and remembered when the object of his filial solicitudes could no longer claim them. Mr. Mason informs us, " that Gray seldom mentioned his mother without a sigh." He was educated at Eton, under the protection of Mr. Antrobus, his maternal uncle, who was at that time one of the assistant mas- ters at that school, and also a fellow of St. Peter's college at Cam- bridge, where Gray was admitted as a pensioner in 1734, in his nineteenth year. I should be unwilling to pass over this period of his life, without mentioning that while at Eton, as well as at Cam- bridge, he depended, for his entire support, on the affection and firmness of his mother; who, when his father had refused all assist- ance, cheerfully maintained him on the scanty produce of her se- parate industry. At Eton his friendship with Horace Walpole, and more particularly with Richard West,* commenced. In him he met * Richard West was the son of the right honourable Richard West, esq., lord chancellor of Ireland; who died in 1728, aged 36; and his grandfather, by the mother's side, was Bishop Burnet. His father was the maternal uncle of Glover the poet, and is supposed to be the author of a tragedy called ' Hecuba,' published in 1726. Mr. Mason says, that, when at school. West's genius was thought to be more brilliant than his friend's. XHR LIFE OF GRAY. 111 with one, who, from tlie goodness of his heart, the sincerity of his friendship, and the excellent cultivation of his mind, was worthy of his warmest attachment. The purity of taste, indeed, as well as the proficiency in literature which the letters of West display, were remarkable at his age ; and his studious and pensive habits of mind, his uncertain health, and his early and untimely death, have all contributed to throw " a melancholy' grace" over the short and interesting narrative of his life. With him, for the period of eight years. Gray enjoyed, what the moralist calls " the most virtuous as well as the happiest of all attachments — the wise security of friendship: ' Par studiis, aevique modis.'" Latterly, when West's health was declining, and his prospects in life seemed clouded and uncertain, Gray's friendship was affectionate and anxious, and only terminated by the early death of his friend in his twenty-sixth year. When Gray removed to Peter-house, Horace Wal pole* went to King's-college in the same university, and West to Christ-church at Oxford. From this period, the life of Gray is conducted by his friend and biographer Mr. Mason, through the medium of his * In H. Walpolc's Works arc some letters between West and Walpole at College (vol. iv. p. 411). 1 he intiniaey between Gray, Walpole, West, anil Asheton, was called the quadruple alliance ; and they passed by the names of Tydeus, Orosmadcs, Almanzor, and Plato. Thomas Asheton was afterwards fellow of Eton College, rector of St. Botolph, Bishopsgate-street, and preacher to the Society of Lincoln'*- Inn. He wrote an answer to a work of Dr. Conyers Middleton. Walpole address- ed a poetical epistle from Florence to him. See Gray's Letters ; and A\'ali)ole's Works, vol. V. p. 386. IV THE LIFE OF GRAY. Letters ; concerning whicli, it may be said, that from tlie humour, the elegance, and the classical taste displayed in them ; from the alternate mixture of serious argument, animated description, just criticism, and playful expression, notwithstanding the incidents of his life were peculiarly few in number, nor any of them re- markable, yet a more interesting publication of the kind never appeared in English literature. Gray's Letters commence, as I have said, from the time when he left Eton for Cambridge ; but from them it is difficult to trace the line of study which he pursued at College. His letters treat chiefly of his poetry, and other private pursuits ; and he seems to have withdrawn himself entirely from the severity of mathe- matical studies, and to have confined his inquiries to classical literature, to the acquisition of modern languages, to histor}', and other branches of what is called polite learning. West describes himself and his friend as walking hand in hand, " Through many a flow'ry path and shelly grot, Where Learning lull'd us in her private maze." During Gray's residence at College, from 1734 to September 3738, his poetical productions were — 'A Copy of Latin Verses,' inserted in the ^ Musce Etouenses ;' another 'On the Marriage of the Prince of Wales ;' and ' A Sapphic Ode to West.' A small part of his ' Translation from Statins,' Mr. Mason has given; but has withheld a Latin Version of the ^ Care Selve beate' of the Pastor Fido, and an English Translation of part of the fourth canto of Tasso's ' Gerusalemma Liberata.' From September till THE LIFE OP GRAY. V the following March, Gray resided at his father's house: but his correspondence with West, who was then with his mother at Epsom, his biographer has thought it unnecessary to insert. At the request of Horace Walpole, Gray now accompanied him in his travels through France and Italy, and deferred his intended study of the law. From letters to his friend West, and to his own family, we have an account of his pursuits while abroad. He seems to have been, as we might have expected, a very studious and diligent traveller. His attention was directed to all the works of art that were curious and instructive. Architecture both of Gothic and Grecian origin, painting, and music, were all studied by him. He appears to have aj)plied diligently to the lan- guage; nor did the manners and customs of the inhabitants escape his attention. Like Addison, he compared with the descriptions of ancient authors the modern appearance of the countries through which he passed. There are, indeed, few gratifications more excjuisite than those which we ex- perience in being able to identify the scenes, and realize the descriptions, which have been long consecrated in the mind by genius and by virtue ; which have supplied the fancy with its earliest images, and are connected in the memory with its most lasting associations. In such moments as these, Ave ap- pear to be able suddenly to arrest the progress and lessen the devastations of time. We hardly contemplate with regret the ages that have passed in silence and oblivion ; and we behold, for the first time, the fading and faint descriptions of language, stamped with the fresh impressions of reality and truth. The Vl THE LIFE OF GRAY. letters which Gray wrote from Italy were not intended for publi- cation, and do not contain a regular account of the observations which he made : but are rather detached and entertaining descrip- tions, intended for the amusement of his friends at home. Every thing which he thought of importance was committed to his journal. " He catalogued," says Mr. Mason, " and made occa- sional short remarks on the pictures which he saw. lie wrote a minute description of every thing which he saw in his tour fiom Rome to Naples ; as also of the environs of Rome, Florence, &c. They abound with many uncommon remarks, and pertinent clas- sical quotations." The route chosen by the travellers was one usually taken : — from Paris, through Rheinis (where they stayed three months, princi- pally to accustom themselves to the French language) to Lyons, whence they took a short excursion to Geneva, over the moun- tains of Savoy ; and by Turin, Genoa, and Bologna to Florence. There they passed the winter in the company of Mr. Horace Mann, the envoy at that court.* In March 1740, Clement the Twelfth, then Pope, died ; and they hastened their journey to Rome, in the hope of seeing the installation of his successor.f That Gray would have wished to have extended his travels, and en- larged his prospect, beyond these narrow limits, if he had pos- sessed the power, we know from his subsequent advice to a friend * See Walpole's Works, vol. iv. p. 423. Sir Horace Mann died in 1786 at Flo- rence, where he had resided forty-six years as his Britannic Majesty's minister, at the Court of the Grand Duke. f Ibid. p. 440. THE LIFE OF GRAY. vii who was commencing his travels ; " Tritum viatorum compitum calca, et, cum poteris, desere." And the following passage sketches the outline of an Italian tour, which I believe, few of our travellers have ever completed : — " I conclude, when the winter is over, and you have seen Rome and Naples, you will strike out of the beaten path of English travellers, and see a little of the coun- try. Throw yourselves into the bosom of the Apennine ; survey the horrid lake of Amsanctus ; catch the breezes on the coast of Taranto and Salerno ; expatiate to the very toe of the continent; perhaps strike over the faro of Messina; and having measured the gigantic columns of Girgenti and the tremendous cavern of S^'ra- cusa, refresh yourselves amidst the fragrant vale of Enna. — Oh ! che hel riposo !" In Ma}', after a visit to the Frascati and the Cascades of Tivoli, Gray sent his beautiful ' Alcaic Ode' to West. In June he made a short excursion to Naples ; and was charmed with the scenery that presented itself in that most delightful climate. He describes the large old fig-trees, the oranges in bloom, the myrtles in every hedge, and the vines hanging in festoons from tree to tree. He must have been among the first English travellers who visited the remains of Herculaneum,* as it was discovered only the preceding * Some excavations were made in Herculaneum in 1709, by the Prince D'Elbeuf: but thirty years elapsed alter the orders given tu the Princi' to dig no farther, before any more notice was taken of them. In December 1738, the King of the two Sieilieu was at Portici, and gave orders for a prosecution of the subterraneous labours- There was an excavation in the time of the Romans: and another in ItiSy In a VUl THE LIFE OF GRAV. year ; and he pointed out to his companion, the description in Statins that pictured the latent city : " Hasc ego Chalcidicis ad te, Marcelle, sonabam Litoribus, fractas ubi Vesbius egerit iras, iEinula Trinacriis volvcns incendia flammis. Mira fides! credetne virum ventura propago, Cum segetes iteruni, cum jam haec deserta virebunt. Infra urbes, populosque premi?" Statii Sylv. IV. iv. 78. At Naples the travellers stayed ten days ; and Gray's next letter to his father, in which he talks of his return to England, is dated again from Florence ; and whence he sent, soon after, his Poem on the ' Gaurus' to West. He remained, however, at that place about eleven months; and during this time commenced his Latin poem 'De Principiis Cogitandi.' He then set off with Walj)ole, on the 24th of April, for Bologna and Reggio,* at the latter of which towns an unfortunate ditrcrence took place between them, and they parted. The exact cause of this quarrel has been passed over by the delicacy of his biographer, because H. Walpolc was alive, when the Memoirs of Gray were written. The former, however, charged letter from H. Walpole to West on this subject (see Walpole's Works, vol.iv. p.448), dated Naples, June 14, 1740, is a passage which shows Mr. Mason's conjec- ture, that the travellers did not recognise the ancient town of Herculaneum by name, to be unfounded. 11. Walpole calls it by that name in his letter. * Dr. Johnson has two slight mistakes in his * Life of Gray.' He says that they quarrelled at Florence and parted, instead of Reggio. He says also, that Gray began his poem ' De Principiis Cogitandi' after his return : but it was commenced in the winter of 1740, at Florence. THE LIFE OF GRAY. ix himself with the chief blame; and lamented that he had not paid more attention and deference to Gray's superior judgment and prudence. In the '■WalpoUana {vo\.\. p. 95. art. ex.) is the fol- lowing passage: "The quarrel between Gray and me arose from his being too serious a companion. I had just broke loose from the restraint of the University, with as much money as I could spend; and I was willing to -indulge myself. Gray was for anti- quities, &c.; whilst I was for perpetual balls and plays; — the fault was mine." Perhaps the freedom of friendship spoke too openly to please: for in a letter from Walpole to Mr. Bentley, some years afterwards, he says : *' I was accustomed to flattery enough when my father was minister : at his fall, I lost it all at once : and since that, I have lived with Mr. Chute, who is all vehe- mence ; with Mr. Fox, who is all disputation ; with Sir C. Williams, who has no time from flattery, himself; and nitk Gray, who does not hute to find fault with me" * Whatever Avas the cause of this quarrel, it must have been very serious, if the information is cor- rect, which is given in the manuscript of the Rev. W. Cole, a person who appears to have lived in terms of intimacy with Gray during the latter part of his life. " When matters (he says) were made up between Gray and Walpole, and the latter asked Gray to * See Walpole's Works, vol. v. p. 334. Jn a letter from Gray to Walpole in 1731, is a sentence which seems to point towards this quarrel : " It is a tenet with mc, (lie says) — a simple one, you will periiaps say, — that if over two people who love one auotlny- come to breaking, it is for wa«t of a timely €f/tf/;c. l'24. ^ See Mason's Memoirs, vol.iv. |). '210: ami Walpoliana, vol.i. p. 95. H See Walpole's Thouglits on Comedy, p. ,132. VOL. I. g 1 THE LIVE OV GRAY. it was only pure English :" — Dr. Beattie writes,* " Graj's letters verv niucii resemble what his conversation was. He had none of the airs of either a scholar or a poet ; and though on those and all other subjects he spoke to me with the utmost freedom, and without any reserve, he was, in general company, much more silent than one could have wished." And in a letter to Sir Wil- liam Forbes, he says, — " I am sorry you did not see Mr. Gray on his return : you would have been much pleased with him. Setting aside his merit as a poet, which however, in my opinion, is greater than any of his contemporaries can boast, in this or any other nation ; I found him possest of the most exact taste, the soundest judgment, and the most extensive learning. He is happy in a sin- gular facility of expression. His conversation abounds in original observations, delivered with no appearance of sententious forma- lity, and seeming to arise spontaneously, without study or preme- ditation. I passed two very agreeable days with him at Glammis, and found him as easy in his manners, and as communicative and frank, as I could have wished." To record the trifling and minute peculiarities of manners, un- less they reflect considerable light upon tlio character which is de- lineated, does not seem to be a necessary part of the duty of a bio- grapher. The little and singular habits of behaviour which are gra- dually formed in the seclusion of a studious life, are not always * See Beattie's Letters to Sir W. Forbes, in the ' Life of Dr. Beattie,' vol. ii. 4to. p. 321. THE tIFF. OF GRAY. U viewed in a just light, and without prejudice, b}' our contemporaries; and at a distance of time the}' are necessarily represented without those nice, but discriminating touches that belong to them ; and are stripped of that connection of circumstances, with which they can alone be painted with justness and precision. Some few observa- tions, however, of this nature, made by the friends of Gray, I have placed in this edition,* without presuming myself to make any remarks on their correctness : but I have great pleasure in adding a slight sketch of his character, drawn by a contemporary poet, the late translator of /Eschylus.-f- — " If there is a writer (says Mr. Potter) who more than others has a claim to be exempted from his [Dr. Johnson's] petulance, Mr. Gray has that claim. His own polished manners restrained him from ever giving offence to any good man ; his warm and cheerful benevolence endeared him to all his friends ; though he lived long in a college, he lived not auUenly there, but in a liberal intercourse with the wisest and most virtuous men of his time. lie was perhaps the most learned man of the age, but his mind never contracted the rust of pedantry. He had too good an understanding to neglect that urbanity which renders society pleasing: his conversation was instructing, elegant, and agreeable. Superior knowledge, an exquisite taste in the fmc arts, and, above all, purity of morals, and an unaffected reve- * .Sec Appendix C. + Sec Inquiry into some Pa.Nsn!;i's in Dr. Johnson's Lives of ilic Poets, parti- cularly his Observations on Lyric Poetry, and the Odes of Gray; by R. Potter, Ho. 1783. g 2 lii THE LIFK OF GRAY. rence for religion, made this excellent person an ornament to society, and an honour to human nature." Soon after the death of Gra}^ a sketch of his character was drawn up by the Rev. Mr. Temple.* This account has been adopted both by Mr. Mason and Dr. Johnson : it was considered by the former to be an impartial summary of his character, and it seems therefore not improper to introduce it into this narrative ; though I must confess that, in my own opinion, it appears to be defective in several material points ; nor is it sketched in that masterly and decisive manner, that leaves a fuller likeness scarcely to be desired. Its prominent defect however is', that it has thrown into the back-ground the peculiar and distinguishing features of the mind of Gray ; — I mean his poetical invention, and his rich and splendid imagination ; — while it is too exclusively confined in detailing the produce of his studies, and the extent of his acquired knowledge. Nor is any mention made in this portrait of his mental character, of that talent of humour f which he possessed in * William Johnson Temple, LL. B., of Trinity-Hall, Cambridge, 1766, formerly rector of Mamhead, Devon, to which he was presented by the Earl of Lisburne ; and exchanged it for St. Gluvias. He published an Essay on the Clergy, their Studies, Recreations, Doctrines, Influence, &c., 1774, 8vo. See Annual Register, 179G, p. 64. He also published 'Historical and Political Memoirs,' 8vo.; and ' On the Abuses of Unrestrained Power, an Historical Essay,' 1778, 8vo. He died August 8, 1796. This character of Gray originally appeared in the London Maga- zine for March 1772. f See some observations on this subject in Mason's Memoirs of Gray, vol. iii- p. 127. THK LIFE OF GRAY- liii a very considerable degree; and which was displayed, both in his conversation, and correspondence. Lord Orford used to assert, " that Gray never wrote any thing easily, but things of humour ;" and added, " that humour was his natural and original turn/' A late writer (Dr. Campbell) has remarked " the transcendent ex- cellence of Shakspeare in the province of humour^ as well as in the pathetic :"* and I have elsewhere had occasion to ob- serye, how strongly the bent of Gray's mind inclined towards this latter quality of composition ; and with what distinguishing fea- tures it appears in his poetry. The examples of these two emi- nent writers whom I have mentioned, appear sufficiently to strengthen the excellent observation made by Mr. D. Stewart, in a note to his Philosophical Essays (p. 584) : " that a talent for the pathetic, and a talent for humour, are generally united in the same person : wit," he observes, " is more nearly allied to a taste for the sublime." To return, liowever, to the observations of Mr. Temple : — " Per- haps (he writes) Mr. Gray was the most learned man in Europe : he was equally acquainted with the elegant and profound parts of science, and that, not superficially, but thoroughly. He knew every branch of history both natural and civil ; had read all the original historians of England, France, and Italy ; and was a great anticpiarian. Criticism, metaphysics, morals, politics,f made a * See ' Philosophy of Rhetoric,' vol. i. p. 37- + How comprehensive the account is, which Mr. Temple gives of tlie studies of Gray, which embraced criticism, metaphysics, morals, and politics, may be seen by Il\ THE LIFE OF GRAY. principal part of his study. Voyages and Travels of all sorts were his favourite amusements; and he had a fine taste in painting, prints, architecture, and gardening.* With such a fund of know- ledge, his conversation must have been equally instructing and entertaining. But he was also a good man, a man of virtue and humanity. There is no character without some speck, some im- perfection ; and I think the greatest defect in his, was an affecta- tion in delicacyj' or rather effeminacy, and a visible fastidiousness or contempt and disdain of his inferiors in science. He also had cf)iin);iring it with the following passage of Hume, as quoted by Mr. D.Stewart in his Life of Roid, p. Iviii. " In these four sciences, of logic, (which is here meant, says Mr. Stewart, as that science wliich explains the principles and operations of our reasoning faculty, and the nature of our ideas,) morals, criticism, and politics, is comprehended almost every thing which it can any way import us to be ac- quainted with ; or which can tend to the improvement or ornament of the human mind." * Mr. Mason says that Cuay disclaiiiKd any skill in gardening, and held it in little estimation ; declaring himself to be only charmed with the bolder features of unadorned nature. See also in Mason's English Garden, book iii.25, the speech which he puts into^the mouth of Gray, as agreeable to his sentiments : " Sovereign queen ! — Behold, and tremble, while thou vicw'st her state Throned on the heights of Skiddaw: call thy art To build her such a throne; that an will feel How vain her best pretensions ! trace her march Amid the purple crags of Borrow-dale; And try like those, to pile thy range of rock. In rude tumultuous chaos !" f Shenstonc, in his Essays, (p. 248,) remarks " the delicncif of Gray's manrters:" and the editor of the Censura Literaria says, " I have learned from several who knew him intimately, that the sensibility of Gray was even morbid ; and often very TllJi LIFE Of GRAY. Iv in some degree that weakness which disgusted V'oltaiie so much in Congreve. Though he seemed to value others chiefly accord- ing to the progress they had made in knowledge, yet he could not bear to be considered merely as a man of letters: and though without birth, or fortune, or station, his desire was to be looked upon as a private independent gentleman, who read fur his amuse- ment. Perhaps it may be said. What signifies so much knowledge, when it produced so little? Is it worth taking so much pains, to leave no memorials but a few poems ? But let it be considered, that Mr. Gray was to others at least innocently employed ; to himself, certainly beneficially. His time passed agreeably ; he was every day making some new accjuisition in science. His mind was enlarged, his heart softened, his virtue strengthened. The world and mankind were shown to him without a mask ; and he was taught to consider every thing as trifling, and unworthy the atten- tion of a wise man, except the pursuit of knowledge, and practice of virtue, in that state, wherein God has placed us." To this account Mr. Mason has added more particularly, from the information of Mr. Tyson,* of Bene't College, that Gray's skill in zoology was extremely accurate. He had not only fastidious, and troiiblcs^ome to iiis friends, lie seemed iVequeutly overwhelmed by the ordinary intercourse, and ordinary afTairs of life. Coarse manners, aiid vulgar, or unrefined sentiments overset hiui." \ Dl. v. p. 406. — But Mr.Mason says, "it was rather an affectation in delicacy and effeminacy, than the things themselves: ami he chose to put on this appearance chiefly before persons whom he did not wish lo please." See Memoirs, vol. iv. p. G.17. * This appears by a note in Nichols's Literary Anecdotes, vol. vii. ivi THE LIFE OF GRAY. concentrated in his Linnaeus, all that other writers had said, but had altered the style of the Swedish naturalist, to classical and elegant Latin. From modern writers he had also illustrated many difficult passages in the zoological treatises of Aristotle. His ac- count of English Insects was more perfect than any that had then appeared ; and it has lately been mentioned,* " as a circumstance not generally known, that he translated the Linnaean Genera, or Characters of Insects, into elegant Latin hexameters ; some speci- mens of which have been preserved by his friends, though they were never intended for publication." Botany, which he studied in early life, under the direction of his uncle, Mr. Antrobus, formed also the amusement and pursuit of his later years. He made frequent experiments on flowers, to mark the mode and progress of their vegetation. " For many of the latter years of his life (says Mr. Cole), Gray dedicated his hours to the study of Botany ; in which he was eminentl}' conspi- cuous. He had Linnaeus's Works interleaved, always before him, Avhen I have accidentally called upon him." His knowledge * See Shaw's Zoological Lectures, vol. i. p. 3. In the library of the late Rev. George Ashby, of Barrow, was a copy of Linnaeus, IGth edit. 1/66, interleaved, in three vols. 4to. with MS. notes and additions by Gray: with drawings of shells, &.c. Another copy of Linnaeus, in the same library, possessed a few Ornithological papers in the hand-writing of Gray, which I now j-ossess ; and which I mention, only because they serve as an additional proof of the accuracy and minuteness with which he prosecuted that branch of his studies in natural history. — Since this note was originalh' written, extracts from these works have been published in the edition of Mr. Mathias. See vol. ii. 548 to 580. THE LIFE OF GRAY. Ivii of architecture has been mentioned before. Mr. Mason says, that while Gray was abroad, he studied the Roman proportions both in ancient ruins, and in the works of Palladio. In his later years, he applied himself to Gothic and Saxon architecture, with such industry and sagacity, that he could, at first sight, pronounce on the precise time when any particular part of our cathedrals was erected. For this purpose he trusted less to written accounts and books, than to the internal evidence of the buildings themselves. He invented also several terms of art, the better to explain his meaning on this subject. Of heraldry, to which he applied as a preparatory science, he was a complete master, and left behind hnn many curious genealogical papers. " After what I have said of Gray, (I use the words of the Rev. Mr. Cole,) in respect to the beauty and elegance of his poetical compositions, it will hardly be believed, that he condescended to look into the study of antiqui- ties. Yet he told me that he was deeply read in Dugdale, Hearne, Spelman, and others of that class; and that he took as much delight in that study, as ever he did in any other. Indeed, I myself saw many specimens of his industry in his collections from various manuscripts in the British Museum. His collec- tions related chiefly to English history little known, or falsified by our historians, and some pedigrees." His taste in music was excellent, and formed on the study of the great Italian masters who flourished about the time of Pcrgolesi;* he himself per- * Gray was not partial to the music of Handel : but Mr. Price (from whom 1 derive this information) adds, " that he used to speak with wonder of that Chorus in the Oratorio of Jephtha, beginning, — 'No more to Ammon's God and King.'" — See 'Essays on the Picturesque,' vol. ii. p. 191, note; ed. 1794- VOL. I. h Iviii THE LIFE OF GRAY. formed upon the harpsichord. And it is said that he sung to his own accompaniment on that instrument, with great taste, and feehng. Vocal music, and that only, was what he chiefly re- garded. Gray acquired also great facility and accuracy in the knowledge of painting. When he was in Ital}^ he drew up a paper containing several subjects proper for painting, which he had never seen executed ; and affixed the names* of different masters to each piece, to show which of their pencils he thought would be most proper to treat it. A curious List of Painters, from the Revival of the Art, to the Beginning of the last Century, was also formed by him, with great accuracy and attention. It was pub- lished for the first time, in Mr. Malone's edition of the AVorks of Sir Joshua Reynolds ;-)• and has been lately reprinted among the collected productions of Mr. Mason. In his Anecdotes of Paint- ing, H. Walpole owns himself much indebted to Gra^^ for informa- tion both in architecture and painting.}: " He condescended to correct (he says) what he never would have condescended to write :" and to him was OAving the discovery of a valuable artist in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, whose name was Theodore Haveus, for some time employed at Caius-College,§ at Cam- * See Mason's Memoirs, vol. iv. p. 98. t See Sir J. Reynolds's Works, vol. iii. p. 293 ; and Mr. Mason's Works, vol. iii. p. 227. :[: See Walpole's Anecdotes of Painting, p. 99 and 141. ^ " In Caius-College, is a good portrait on board of Dr. Ke3's (not in profile), undoubtedly original, and dated 1563, aetatissuae 53 ; with Latin verses and mottos: and in the same room hangs an old picture, (bad at first, and now almost effaced by THE LIFE OF GUAY. llX bridge ; who Avas at once an architect, sculptor, and painter ; and who possessed that diversity, as well as depth of talent in the arts, which appeared in such extraordinary splendour at the revival of literature, but of which, I believe, we have no instance recorded, in the history of ancient times.* To the papers of Gray, the late Mr. Pennant owned himself much indebted for many corrections and observations on the anti- quities of London.-j- Indeed, the variety and extreme accuracy of his studies, even considering the leisure which he possessed, is not a little surprising ; and though he published little or nothing, his reputation for extensive learning was thoroughly established^ Retinicit famam, sine experimento. " Excepting pure mathematics, cleaning,) of a man in a slashed doublet, dark curled hair, and beard, looking like a foreigner, and holding a pair of compasses, and by his side a polywlron, com- posed of twelve pentagons. This is undoubtedly Theodore Havens himself, who, from all these circumstances, seems to hav€ been an architect, sculptor, and painter; and having worked many years for Dr. Caius and the College, in gratitude left be- liind him his own picture." Walpole's Anecdotes of Painting, p. 143, 4to. * llaphael, Leonardo da Vinci, and Julio Romano were architects and I believe sculptors, as well as painters ; but it was reserved for the genius of Michael Angelo, to add to the most profound knowledge of those arts, the mind and the expres- sion of the j oet. When Dr. Warton, in his Essay on Pope (vol. i. p. 157), said that he could not recollect any painters that were good poets, excejit Salvator Rosa, and Charles Vermander, of Mulbrac in Flanders; he surely did not mean to except the poetry of this most extraordinary man. Pliny, in his Natural History, mentions lh€ nauics of some ancient aitists who were phJloiiophers : sec lib. xxxv. c. 10, 11. i' See Pennant's ' London,' p. C2, 4to. Mr.Peimant had the use of an inter- leaved copy of ' London aud its Environs,' with jiotcs by Mr. Gray, which is in Lord Harcourt's possession. h 2 lie THE LIFE OF GRAY. (says Mr. Mason,) and the studies dependent on tliat science, there was hardly any part of human learning in which he had not acquired a competent skill; in most of them, a consummate mastery." He followed most implicitly the rule, which he so often inculcated to his friends,* that happiness consists in employment. "To find one's self business (he writes) I am persuaded is the great art of life. I am never so angry as when I hear my ac- quaintance wishing they had been bred to some poking profes- sion, or employed in some office of drudgery ; as if it were plea- santer to be at the command of other people, than at one's own ; and as if they could not go, unless they were wound up : yet I know and feel what they mean by this complaint ; it proves that some spirit, something of genius (more than common) is required to teach a man how to employ himself." With regard to Classical learning, there seems every reason to suppose that he was a profound, as well as an elegant scholar. He thought once, it is said, of publishing an edition of Strabo, and left behind him many copious notes, and curious geographical disquisitions, particularly with respect to Persia, and India. He bestowed uncommon labour on the Anthologia Graeca, inserting critical emendations and additional epigrams, besides a copious index. On Plato (Mr. Mason says) he bestowed indefatigable pains; leaving a quantity of critical and explanatory notes on al- * See Walpole's Works, vol. v. p. 398, LeU. XI. And Mason's Memoirs, vol. iv. p. 17, Lett. XXV. ; and p. 53, Lett. XXXVL, to Dr. Wharton. THE LIFE OF GRAY. Ixi most every part of his works. These notes have now been pub- lished* in the edition of Mr. Mathias, and they are fully sufficient to show the respect and attention, with which he studied the writings of that great philosopher. They relate chiefly' to anti- quity and history ; Avhether he attended much to verbal criticism, either in the Greek or Latin language, does not appear. I should be inclined to think, that he read the ancient writers, not so much as a critic, but with the more extended, and ampler views of the histo- rian, and the philosopher: all that was in any way connected with the fine arts, with the poetry, the philosophy, and the history of Greece and Rome, he studied with attention ; and some of the authors whom he perused, could only be relished by one, who possessed an intimate, and copious knowledge, of the language in which they wrote. How far Mr. Mathias may have consulted the reputation of Gray, in the extracts which he has lately made from * Some notes on the Iwv of Plato, by Thomas Gray, were published in the 'Mussel Oxoniensis Literarii Conspectus,' Fasc.ii. p. 39— 48; a publication which was conducted by the present Bishop of St. David's, and which consists of three numbers. "Grayii(says the editor) poetas celeberrimi, observationes in Platonis lonem, pro liberalitate sua, mihi dcscribendas benignissime permisit poeta cele- berrimus, Gulielmus Mason. Exccrpta; sunt e spisso volumine Grayii observa- tionum ineditarum in univcrsa Platonis Opera, in Strabonem, ct Geographos anti- ques, in vctustissimos Poetas Anglicos, in Ecclesias Cathedrales Angliie, &c. scrip- tarum magna eruditione, sumnia diligcntia, raro ingenio et judicio acri, ita ut poeta illc cultissinius in vatum cruditonnii nuniero, una cum Miltono, merito censcri (jucat. Observationes in lonem quanquam paucae sint, doctrina? ubertateni pro- dunt, et judicii acumen. Ex his, quidem nonnulise de rebus baud obscuris dictae videantur; pauci taincn homines de aliqua re admoneri dedignabuntur, qnam sui gratia notatu dignam putavit Grayius." Ixii THE LIFE OF GRAY. the manuscripts at Peml)rokc, the voice of the pubhc will in time decide. In the mean while, I cannot but observe, that so far as regards the observations on English metre, the remarks on Lyd- gate, the excellent, and highly entertaining analysis of the Aves of Aristophanes, and the English and Latin translations, there surely can be but one sentiment of approbation and gratitude. I confess, that if I had been placed in the situation of the editor, I should have hesitated most, as to the propriety of publishing the notes on Aristophanes, and the geographical disquisitions on India. It is not, I believe, generally known, that Gray assisted Ross* (the editor of the Epistolaj Familiares of Cicero, with English notes) in an anonymous pamphlet-f- which he published against * See the Selections from the Gentleman's Magazine, vol. iv. p. 392. In the Miscellaneous Tracts of Bowyer, 4to. are many letters of Marklanil, shewing great contempt for a person, whose name is not mentioned. — This was Ro^s. See p. 573, 574, 576, Sic. The letters at p. 575, 518, dated June 20, 1749, and .June 14th, 1750', which speak in severe terms of a book then published, relate, I believe, to Hurd's Horace. f The title of this pamphlet is, ' A Dissertation in which the Defence of P. Sylla, ascribed to M.Tullius Cicero, is clearly proved to be spurious, after the Manner of Mr. Markland ; with some introductory Remarks on other Writings of the Ancients, never before suspected.' It is written in a sarcastic style, against Markland ; but with a display of learning very inferior to that of the excellent scholar against whom it was directed, and in a disposition very dissimilar to the candour and fairness which accompanied the writings of Markland. In a IMS. note in the first leaf of his copy of Markland, Gray writes: — "This book is answered in an ingenious way, but the irony not quite transparent." THE LIFE OF GRAY. Ixiii the Criticisms of Markland, on some of the Epistles, and Orations of Cicero. Gray's own copy of Markland's Treatise is now before me. The notes which he has written in it, dispkiy a familiar knowledije of the structure of the Latin lano-uao-e, and answer some of the objections of that it)genious critic ; who had not then learnt the caution, in verbal criticism and conjectural emendation, which he well knew how to value, when an editor of Euripides.* In the Latin poems of Gra}',-^- some errors have been pointed * 111 1741, Orator Tunstall (witli some assistance from Markland) published his doubts of the authenticity of the letters between Cicero and Brutus, (which Mid- dlcton had considered as genuine in his Life of Cicero,) in a Latin Dissertation. This Middleton callid, " a frivoUnis, captious, disingenuous piece of criticism;" answered it in English, and published the disputed epistles with a translation. Upon this. Orator Tunstall in 1744 published his 'Observations on the Epistles, repre- senting several evident marks of forgery in them, in answer to the late pretences of the Rev. Dr. Conyers Middleton.' Markland, in 1745, published his arguments on the same side of the question, adding a Dissertation on four Orations ascribed to Cicero, viz. 1. Ad Quirites post reditum. 2. Post reditum in Senatu. 3. Pro Dome sua, ad Ponlifices. 4. De Haruspicum Responsis. Tliis called forth the pamphlet from Ross, I believe, in the following year, but the book lias no date. This con- troversy was continued by ' A Dissertation in which the Observations of a late Pam- phlet on the A\ ritings of the Ancients, after the Manner of Mr. IVLirkland, are clearly answered ; those Passages in Tully corrected, on wliicli some of the Objec- tions are founded ; with Amendments of a few Pieces of Criticism in Air. ^L'lrk- land's Epistola Critica. London, 1746, 8vo.' Gesner published some Strictures on Markland in the Comm. Acad. Reg. Giitting. t. iii. 223 — 284 : which \\'olf wonders Markland did not answer; as he had bhmn his pipes louder than Tunstall. Sax ins mistakes Ross's pamphlet for a serious one: and says tliat he-attacks Cicero's Ora- tion pro Sulla, " ilarduinina pa?ne licentia." i In the Gentleuum's Magazijie, 1801, vol.lxxi. p. 591, is a letter from a Mr. Ixiv THE LIFE OF GRAY. out in the notes. One or two of them arc evidently mistakes arising from haste ; and the others do not at all derogate from the reputation which he has acquired for his classical attainments, and the elegance and purity of his compositions. Heinsius discovered some mistakes in quantity, among the poems of Milton, when they first appeared ; and Vavassor* detected many inaccuracies in metre and grammar, in the poetical volume published by Beza. The Latin poems of Buchanan, beautiful and classical as they are in their spirit, and language, are not without defects both of gram- mar, and of prosody. Indeed some faults -j- of this kind are cer- Edmund C. Mason, Sheffield, relating an anecdote of Gray, and containing a Latin poem, which he says, is the production of the poet ; and a Greek translation of it, by West. This gentleman, however, has not given any account of the authenticity of his manuscript. * Vavassor was as modest a judge of his own merits, as he was a severe censor of the imperfections of others. He prophesied, that while Homer, Hesiod, Virgil, TibuUus, &c. were destroyed in the conflagration of the last day, his poetry should survive the ruins of the universe. Thus, while the Heathen Poet was to be trans- formed only into a swan; the Holy Father was to rise a phoenix. The prophecy concludes in these lines : " Sola tot ex Scriptis, leto indignante, superstes Sternum (scio, materies sic te tua poscit, Atque extrema sibi haec Christus miracula debet) Musa Vavassori servabere, tempore, et igni. Major, et ipsa tuum raox servatura poetam." + Mr. Mason says, " A learned and ingenious person, to whom I communicated the Latin poems after they were printed off, was of opinion that they contain some few expressions not warranted by any good authority ; and that there are one or two false quantities to be found in them. I had once an intention to cancel the pages, and correct the passages objected to, according to my friend's criticisms; but, on THE LIFE OF ORAT. IxV tainly not inexcusable, when composing in a language not our own. Gray's Latin poetry, however, appears to me to be pecu- liarly forcible and correct ; and formed attentively after the best models — Virgil and Lucretius. Dr. Johnson, who was a good judge of the purity of Latin composition (although he did not al- ways himself compose with that classical exactness which may be desired), allowed, " that it were reasonable to wish Gray had pro- secuted his design of excelHng in Latin poetry ; for though there is at present some embarrassment in his phrase, and some harsh- ness in his lyric numbers, his copiousness of language is such as very few possess ; and his lines, even when imperfect, discover a writer whom practice would have made skilful." If Gray, how- ever, should need any further defence, it must be observed, that his Latin poems were never intended by him for publication, if we except the two that he wrote at College ; that they were found by his executors among his own papers, or those of his friends, and that they did not receive his last corrections.* I have never understood that his knowledge of modern lan- guages extended beyond the French and Italian : these, however, he studied when he was abroad with considerable diligence, and second thoughts, I deemed it best to let them stand exactly as I found them in the manuscripts. The accurate classical reader will perhaps be best pleased with find- ing out the faulty passages himself; and his candour will easily make the proper allowances for any little mistakes in verses, which, he will consider, never had the nut/tor's last hand." Memoirs, vol. iv. p. 234. • The ode written at the Grande Chartreuse perhaps ought also to be excepted. VOL. I. i Ixvi THE LIFE OF GRAY. cultivated afterwards, in the leisure which he enjoyed at home. Indeed his acquaintance with the beautiful works of the Tuscan barils, has contributed in no small degree, to enrich and adorn many passages of his English poetry: " Duiii vagus, Ausonias nunc per umbras, Nunc Britannica per vireta lusit." It remains now only to speak of an intended publication in English literature, which Gray mentioned in an advertisement to the Imitation of the Welsh Odes, and which was an ' Plistory of Eno-lish Poetry.' It appears that Warburton had communicated to ISIr. i\Iason, a paper of Pope's, which contained the first sketch of a plan for a work of that nature, and which was printed in the Life of Poj)e by Rufl'head, and subsequently in many other works. *' Milton (says Drydcn in the preface to his Fables) was the poetical son of Spenser, and Mr. Waller of Fairfax ; for we have our lineal descents and clans as well as other families." Upon this principle, Pope* drew up his little catalogue of the English * Pope observed to Speiice that " Michael Drayton was one of the imitators of Spenser, and Fairfax another. Milton, iii his first pieces, is an evident follower of Spenser too, in his famous Allegro and Penseroso, and some others. Carew (a bad \\'aller), A\'aller himself, and Lord Lansdown, are all of one school; as Sir John Sucking, Sir John Minnes and Prior, are of another. Crashaw is a coarse sort of Cowlc)-; lie was a follower too of Petrarch and Marino, but most of Marino. He and Cowlcv were good friends; and the latter has a good copy of verses on his death. About this pitch were Stanley (the author of the Opinions of Philoso- phers); Randolph, liiough rather superior; and Sylvester, though rather of a lower form. Cartw right and Bishop Corbet are of this class of poets; and Ruggle, the THE LIFE OF GRAY. IXVll poets ;* and Gray was so much pleased Avith the method of ar- rangement which Pope had struck out, that on Mr. Mason's agree- ing to assist him, he examined and considerably enlarged the plan. He meant in the introduction, to ascertain the Origin of Rhyme ; to give specimens of the Provenfal Scaldic, British, and Saxon poetry : and when the different sources of English poetry were as- certained, the history was to commence with the school of Chaucer. Mr. Mason collected but few materials for this purpose ; but Gray, besides writing his imitations of Norse and Welsh poetry, made many curious and elaborate disquisitions into the origin of rhyme, and the variety of metre to be found in the ancient poets. He transcribed many passages from Lidgate, from the manuscripts which he found at Cambridge, remarking the beauties and defects, of this immediate scholar of Chaucer, About this time, however, T. Warton was engaged in a work of the same nature ; and Gray, fatigued with the extent of his plan, author of the Counter-Scuffle, might be admitted among them. Herbert is lower than Crashaw, Sir .John Beaumont higher, and Donne a good deal so." [Spencc's Anecdotes, quoted in] Malone's Dryden, vol. iv. p. 389. * I have placed Pope's Catalogue of the Poets in the Appendix I), (with Urav's Letter on the same subject), witii some observations upon it. It is singular that this sketch of Pope's should have been so often printed, without any of the editors, except Mr. Malone, pointing out its mistakes and inaccuracies. It disagrees also, in many points, with the account which he gave to Spence; printed in the preceding note. 1 must observe, that this catalogue is printed by Mr. Mathias, in a far more correct manner, than that, in whicii it usually appears. It is published by him from Gray's own hand-wriimg; and many of the inaccuracies pointed out by Mr. Malone, are only the blunders of printers and transcribers. i 2 Ixviii THE LIFE OF GRAY. relinquished his undertaking, and sent a copy of liis design to Warton ; of whose abilities, from his observations on Spenser, Mr. Mason says, he entertained an high opinion. It is well known, that Warton did not adopt this plan ; and gave his reasons for his departure from it, in the preface to his history. Gray died some years before Warton's publication appeared ;* but Mr. Mason mentions it with praise, in a note in the fourth volume of his Memoirs of Gray, where he calls it, " a work, which, as the author proceeds in it through more enlightened periods, will undoubtedly give the world as high an idea of his critical taste, as the present specimen does of his indefatigable researches into antiquity." In the short, and I am afraid, imperfect account which I have now given of the life and character of Gray, I may be permitted, before I close the narrative, to express my own sincere admiration of that splendid genius, that exquisite taste, that profound and extensive erudition, those numerous accomplishments, and those real and unassuming merits, which will preserve for him a very eminent reputation, exclusively of that, which he so justly enjoys in his rank among the English poets. His life, indeed, did not abound with change of incident, or variety of situation; it was not blessed with the happiness of domestic endearments, nor spent in the bosom of social intercourse ; but it was constantly and con- tentedly employed in the improvement of the various talents with which he was so highly gifted; in a sedulous cultivation both of * Gra^- died in July 1771, and Warton's first volume appeared in 1774. THE LIFE OF GRAY. Ixix the moral and intellectual powers ; in the study of wisdom, and in the practice of virtue. To present his poetry to the public, in a more correct, as well as in a completer form, than it has yet appeared, has been the de- sign of this edition. And I am willing to hope, that I have made no unacceptable present to the literary Avorld, in enabling them for the first time to read the genuine correspondence of Gra}', in an enlarged as well as authentic form. Assuredly, to some, his letters will not be less interesting than his poetry ; and they will be read by all who are desirous of estimating, not only the variety of his learning, and the richness and playfulness of his fancy, but the excellence of his private character, the genuine goodness of his heart, his sound and serious views of life, and his warm and zealous affection towards his friends. APPENDIX. APPENDIX A. THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF MR. THOMAS GRAY. Extracted from the Registry of the Prerogative Court qfCanterburij. In the Name of God. Amen. I Thomas Gray of Pembroke-Hall in the University of Cambridge, being of sound mind and in good health of bodv, yet ignorant how long these blessings may be indulged me, do make this my Last Will and Testament in manner and form following. First, I do desire that my body may be deposited in the vault, made by my late dear mother in the churchyard of Stoke-Pogeis, near Slough in Buckingham- shire, by her remains, in a coffin of seasoned oak, neither lined nor covered, and (unless it be very inconvenient) I could wish that one of my executors may see me laid in the grave, and distribute among such honest and industrious poor persons in the said parish as he thinks fit, the sum often pounds in charity. — Next, I give to George Williamson, esq. my second cousin by the father's side, now of Calcutta in Bengal, the sum of five hundred pounds reduced Bank annuities, now standing in my name. I give to Anna Lady Goring, also my second cousin by the father's side, of the county of Sussex, five hundred pounds reduced Bank annui- ties, and a pair of large blue and white old Japan china jars. Item, I give to Mary Antrobus of Cambridge, spinster, my second cousin by the mother's side, all that my freehold estate and house in the parish of St. Michael, Cornhill, London, now let at the yearly rent of sixty-rive pounds, and in the occupation of Mr. Nortgeth perfumer, provided that she pay, VOL. I. k Ixxiv APPENDIX A. out of the said rent, by half-yearly payments, Mrs. Jane Olliffe, my aunt, of Cambridge, widow, the sum of twenty pounds /Jer annum during her na- tural life ; and after the decease of the said Jane Ollifte I give the said estate to the said Mary Antrobus, to have and to hold to her heirs and assigns for ever. Farther j I bequeath to the said Mary Antrobus tlie sum of six hundred pounds new South-sea annuities, now standing in the joint names of Jane Ollifle and Thomas Gray, but charged with the pay- ment of five pounds j9er annum to Graves Stokeley of Stoke-Pogeis, in the county of Bucks, which sum of six hundred pounds, after the decease of the said annuitant, does (by the will of Anna Rogers my late aunt) belong solely and entirely to me, together with all overplus of interest in the mean-time accruing. Further, if at the time of my decease there shall be any arrear of salary due to me from his Majesty's Treasury, I give all such arrears to the said Mary Antrobus. Item, I give to Mrs. Dorothy Comyns of Cambridge, my other second cousin by the mother's side, the sums of six hundred pounds old South-sea annuities, of three hundred pounds four per cent. Bank annuities consolidated, and of two hundred pounds three ^rce«^. Bank annuities consolidated, all now standing in my name. I give to Richard Stonehewer, esq. one of his Majesty's Commissioners of Excise, the sum of five hundred pounds reduced Bank annuities, and I beg his acceptance of one of my diamond rings. I give to Ur. Thomas Wharton, of Old Park in tl)e Bishoprick of Durham, five hundred pounds reduced Bank annuities, and desire him also to accept of one of my diamond rings. I give to my servant, Stephen Hempstead, the sum of fifty pounds reduced Bank annuities, and if he continues in my service to the time of my death I also give him all my wearing-apparel and linen. I give to my two cousins above-mentioned, Mary Antrobus and Dorothy Comyns, all my plate, watches, rings, china-ware, bed-linen and table-linen, and the furniture of my chambers, at Cambridge, not otherwise bequeathed, to be equally and amicably shared betwen them. I give to the Reverend William Mason, precentor of York, all my books, manuscripts, coins, music printed or written, and papers of all kinds, to preserve or destroy at his own discretion. And after my just debts and the expenses of my funeral are discharged, all the residue of my personal estate, whatsoever, I do hereby give and bequeath to the said Reverend William Mason, and to the Reverend Mr. James Browne, President of Pembroke-Hall, Cam- bridge, to be equally divided between them, desiring them to apply the APPENDIX A. 1 XXV sum of two liundied pounds to an use of charity concerning which I have already informed them. And I do liereby constitute and appoint them, the said William Mason and James Browne, to be joint executors of this my Last Will and Testament. And if any relation of mine, or other le- gatee, shall go about to molest or commence any suit against my said executors in the execution of their office, I do, as far as the law will per- mit me, hereby revoke and make void all such bequests or legacies as I had given to that person or persons, and give it to be divided between my said executors and residuary legatees, whose integrity and kindness I have so long experienced, and who can best judge of my true intention and meaning. In witness whereof I have hereunto set my hand and seal this Sid day of July, 1770, Tho. Gray. Signed, scaled, jndiUshed, and declared hy the said Thomas Gray, the testa- tor, as and fur his Last JJ'ill and T'estament, in the presence of us, "who in his presence and at his request, and in the presence of each other, have signed our names as witnesses hereto. kichard baker. THOMAS WILSON. JOSEPH TURNER. Proved at London the I'ith of August 1771, before the Worshipful Andrew Coltre Ducarel, Doctor of Laws and Surrogate, by the oaths of the Reverend William Mason, Clerk, Master of Arts, and the Reverend James Browne, Clerk, Master of Arts, the executors to whom administra- tion was granted, having been first sworn duly to administer. JOHN STEVENS. HENRY STEVENS. ^ Dcputij Registers. GEO. GOSTLING, ^W?J. k2 APPENDIX B. TuF, following curious paper I owe to the kindness of Sir Egerton Brydges and his friend Mr. Haslewood. It was discovered in a volume of manuscript law cases, purchased by the latter gentleman at the sale of the late Isaac Reed's books. It is a case submitted by the mother of Gray to the opinion of an eminent civilian in 1735; and it proves, that to the great and single exertions of this admirable woman, Gray was indebted for his education, and consequently for the happiness of his life. The sorrow and the mournful affection with which lie dwelt on his mother's memory, serves to shew the deep sense he retained of what she suffered, as well as what she did for him. Those who have read the Memoirs of Kirk White in Mr. Southey's Narrative, will recognise the similarity of the situation in which the two poets were placed, in their entrance into life ; and they will see, that if maternal love and courage had not stept in, in both cases, their genius and talents would have been lost in the igno- rance, or stifled by the selfishness, of those about them. CASE. " Philip Gray, before his marriage with his wife, (then Dorothy Antro- bus, and who was then partner with her sister Mary Antrohus,) entered into articles of agreement with the said Dorothy, and Mary, and their brother Robert Antrobus, that the said Dorothy's stock in trade (which was then 240Z.) should be employed by the said Mary in the said trade» and that the same, and all profits arising thereby, should be for the sole benefit of the said Dorothy, notwithstanding her intended coverture, and her sole receipts alone a sufficient discharge to the said Mary and her brother Robert Antrobus, who was made trustee. But in case either the said Philip or Dorothy dies, then the same to be assigned to the survivor. "That in pursuance of the said articles, the said Mary, with the assist- ance of the said Dorothy her sister, hath carried on the said trade for near APPENDIX B. Ixxvii thirty years, with tolerable success for the said Dorothy. That she hath been no charge to the said Philip; and during all the said time, hath not only found herself in all manner of apparel, but also for all her children, to the number of twelve, and most of the furniture of his house ; and paying 40/. a year for his shop, almost providing every thing for her son, xvhilst at Eton school, and noxv he is at Peter-House at Cambridge. " Notwithstanding which, almost ever since he hath been married, he hath used lier in the most inhuman manner, by beating, kicking, punch- ing, and with the most vile and abusive language ; that she hath been in the utmost lear and danger of her life, and hath been obliged this last year to quit his bed, and lie with her sister. This s/ie was resolved, if possible, to bear; not to leave her shop of trade for the sake of her son, to be able to assist in the maintenance of him at the University, siiice his father xvon't. " Tiicre is no cause for this usage, unless it be an unhappy jealousy of all mankind in general (her own brother not excepted); but no woman deserves, or hath maintained, a more virtuous character : or it is presumed if he can make her sister leave oft" trade, he thinks he can then come into his wife's money, but the articles are too secure for his vile purposes. " He daily threatens he will pursue her with all the vengeance pos- sible, and will ruin himself to undo her, and his only son ; in order to which he hath given warning to her sister to quit his shop, where they have carried on their trade so successfully, whitli will be almost their ruin : but he insists she shall go at Midsummer next ; and the said Dorothy, liis wife, in necessity must be forced to go along with her, to some other house and shop, to be assisting to her said sister, in the said trade, iov her own and son's support. "■ But if she can be quiet, she neither expects or desires any help from him : but he is really so very vile in his nature, she hath all the reason to expect most troublesome usage from him that can be thought of. QUESTION. " What lie can, or possibly may do to molest his wife in living with her sister, and assisting in her trade, for the purposes in the said articles ; and which will be the best way for her to conduct herself in this unhappy cir- Ixxviii APPENDIX B. ciimstance, if lie should any ways be troublesome, or endeavour to force her to live with him? And wliether the said Dorothy in the lifetime of the said Philij), may not by will, or otherwise, dispose of the interest, or produce, wliifh hath, or may arise, or become due for the said stock as she shall think, tit, it being apprehended as part of her separate estate?" ANSWER. " If Mrs. Gray should leave her husband's house, and go to live with her sister in any other, to assist her in her trade, her husband may, and probably will call her, by process in the Ecclesiastical Court, to return home and cohabit with him, which the court will compel her to do, unless she can shew cause to the contrary. She has no other defence in that case, than to make proof, before the court, of sucli cruelties as may in- duce the judge to think she cannot live in safety with her husband : then the court will decree for a separation. " This is a most unhappy case, and such a one, as I think, if possible, should be referred to, and made up by some common friend ; sentences of separation, by reason of cruelty only, being very rarely obtained. " What the cruelties are which he has used towards her, and what proof she is able to make of them, I am yet a stranger to. She will, as she has hitherto done, bear what she reasonably can, witliout giving him any pro- vocation to use her ill. If, nevertheless, he forces her out of doors, the most reputable place she can be in, is with her sister. If he will proceed to extremities, and go to law, she will be justified, if she stands upon her defence, rather perhaps than if she was plaintiff in the cause. " As no power of making a will is reserved to Mrs. Gray, by lier mar- riage settlement, and not only the original stock, but likewise the produce and interest which shall accrue, and be added to it, are settled upon the husband, if he survives his wife ; it is my opinion she has no power to dis- pose of it by will, or otherwise. " JOH. AUDLEY." *' Doctors' Commons, Feb. 9th, 1735." APPENDIX C. Miscellaneous Extracts from the Manuscript Papers of the Rev. WilHam Cole, of Milton in Cambridgeshire, relating to Gray; now in the British Museum. On Tuesday July 30th, 1771, Mr. Essex calling on me, in his way to Ely, told me that Mr. Gray was thought to he dying of the gout in his stomach. I had not heard before that he was ill, though he had been so for many days. So I sent my servant in the evening to Pembroke-Hall, to enquire after his welfare ; but he was then going off, and no message could he delivered ; and he died that night. He desired to be binied early in the morning at Stoke- Pogeis ;• and accordingly was put in lead, and conveyed from Cambridge on Sunday morning, with a design to rest at Hodtlesdon the first night, and Salt-hill on Monday night, from whence he might bo very early on Tuesday morning at Stoke. He made the Master of Pembroke (his particular friend) his executor; who, with his niece Antrobus, Mr. Cummins a merchant of Cambridge, who had mar- ried her sister, and a young gentleman of Christ's-Collcge with whom he was very intimate, went in a mourning-coach after the hearse, to see him put into his grave. He left all his books and MSS. to his particular friend • Gray's tomb is at the end of tlic chancul, of Stokc-Pogcis church. At Str-awberry-Hill, there is a ilrawing by Bacon of Gray's tomb, by moonlight; given to Lord Orford, by Sir Kdward Wnipole. Sec Lord Orford's Works, vol.ii. p. 4'25. Not far from the churchyard is the Cenotaph erected by JNIr. Pcnu to tlie memory of Gray, from a design, 1 believe, by the late Mr. Wyutt. IXXX APPENDIX C. Mr. Mason, with a desire that he would do with the latter what he thought proper, ^V^len he saw all was over with him, he sent an express to his friend Mr. Stonehewer, who immediately came to see him ; and as Dr. Gisborne happened to be with him when the messenger came, he brought him down to Cambridge with him; which was the more lucky, as Pro- fessor P * had refused to get up, being sent to in the night. But it was too late to do any good: and indeed he had all the assistance of the faculty t besides at Cambridge. It is said, that he has left all his fortune to his two nieces at Cambridge; and just before his death, about a month, or thereabout, he had done a very generous action, for which he was much commended. His aunt Olliffe, an old gentlewoman of Norfolk, had left that county, two or three years, to come and live at Cambridge ; and dying about the time I speak of, left him and Mr. Cummins executors and residuary legatees ; but Mr. Gray generously gave up his part to his nieces, one of whom Mrs. Ollitfe had taken no notice of, and who wanted it sufficiently. * * * * • I was told by Alderman Burleigh, the present mayor of Cam- bridge, that Mr. Gray's father had been an Exchange-broker, but the for- tune he had acquired of about 10,000/., was greatly hurt by the fire in Cornhill ; so that Mr. Gray, many years ago, sunk a good part of what was left and purchased an annuity, in order to have a fuller income. I have often seen at his chambers, in his ink-stand, a neat pyramidal blood- stone seal, with these arms at the base, viz. J a lion rampant, within a bor- dure engrailed, being those of the name of Gray, and belonged, as he told me, to his father. His mother was in the millinery way of business. His person was small, well put together, and latterly tending to plumpness. He was all his life remarkably sober and temperate. I think, I heard him say he never was across a horse's back in his life. He gave me a • Dr. P certainly refused to get up to attend Gray in his last illness; but it was to be considered, that he was grown old, and had found it necessary to adopt this rule with all his patients. Ed. I Dr Glynn was Gray's physician at Cambridge, and likewise a very intimate friend. En. t Sir Egerton Brydges informs me, that Gray's arms are the same as those of Lord Gray of Scotland; who claimed a relationship with him, (see Mason's Memoirs, vol.iv. lett. 55.) and as the present Earl Grey's. APPENDIX C. Ixxxi small print or etching of himself by Mr. Mason, which is extremely like him. II. I am apt to think the characters of Voiture and Mr. Gray were very similar. They were both little men, very nice and exact in their persons and dress, most lively and agreeable in conversation, except that Mr. Gray was apt to be too satirical, and both of them full of affectation. In Gil Bias, the print of Scipio in the arbour, beginning to tell his own ad- ventures to Gil Bias, Antonia, and Beatrix, was so like the countenance of Mr. Gray, that if he sat for it, it could not be more so. It is in a 12mo edition in four volumes, printed at Amsterdam, chez Herman Vytwerf, 1735, in the 4th volume, p.54. — p. m. It is ten times more like him than his print before Mason's Life of him, which is horrible, and makes him a fury. That little one done by Mr. Mason is like him ; and placid Mr. Tyson spoilt the other by altering it. III. It must have been about the year 1770, that Dr. Farmer and Mr. Gray ever met, to be acquainted together, as about that time I met them at Mr. Oldham's chambers, in Peter-House, to dinner. Before, they had been shy of each other; and thougii Mr. Farmer was then esteemed one of the most ingenious men in the University, yet Mr. Gray's singular nice- ncss in the choice of his acquaintance made him aj)pear fastidious to a great degree, to all who were not acquainted with his manner. Indeed, there did not seem to be any probability of any great intimacy from the style and manner of each of them. The one a cheerful, companionable, hearty, open, downright man, of no great regard to dress or common forms of behaviour : the other, of a most fastidious and recluse distance of carriage, rather averse to sociability, but of the graver turn ; nice, and elegant in his person, dress, and behaviour, even to a degree of finicalness and otTeminacy. So that nothing but their extensive learning and abili- ties could ever have coalesced two such different men, and both of great value in their own line and walk. They were ever after great friends; vox. I. I Ixxxii APPENDIX c. and Dr. Farmer, and all of his acquaintance, had soon after too much reason to lament his loss, and the shortness of their acquaintance. IV. Two Latin Epitaphs in the Church of Burnham, in Buckinghamshire, supposed to be from the pen of Mr. Gray, (published from Cole's MSS. in the European Magazine, July 1804.) Huic Loco prope adsunt Cineres ROBERTI ANTROBUS. Vir fuit, si quis unquam fuit, Amicorum amans, Et Amicis amandus. Ita Ingenio et Doctrina valuit, Ut suis Honori fuerit, et aliis Commodo. Si Mores respicis, probus et humanus. Si Animum, semper sibi constans. Si Fortunam, plura meruit quam tulit. In Memoriam defuncti posuit Hoc Marmor „ f amantissimus 7 ^ ^ . „ Frater ^ ,. . )• J. Rogers. A. D. 1731. ) moestissimus j ° M.S. Jonathani Rogers, Qui Juris inter Negotia diu versatus, Opibus modicis laudabili Industria partis, Extremos Vitae Annos Sibi, Amicis, Deo dicavit. Humanitati ejus nihil Otium detraxit, Nihil Integritati Negotia. Quaenam bonae Spei justior Causa, Quam perpetua Morum Innocentia, Animus erga Deum reverenter affectus, Erga omnes Homines benevole ? APPENDIX c. Ixxxiii Vixit Ann. Ixv. Ob. Stoke in Com. Bucks. A.D. MDCCXLII. Octob.xxxi. Anna, Conjux moestissima, per Annos xxxii. NuUA unquam intercedente Querimonia Omnium Curarum Particeps, Hoc Marmor (Sub quo et suos Cineres juxta Gondi destinat) Pietatis Officium heu! ultimum, P.C. V. Froyn the hifomiation of Sir Egerton Brydges, K. J. M. P. Among the friends of Gray, was the Rev. William Robinson, (third bro- ther of Mrs. Montagu,) of Denton Court, near Canterbury, and rector of Burfield, Berks. He was educated at Westminster, and at St. John's College, Cambridge, where he formed a particular intimacy with Gray who twice* visited him at Denton. He died Dec. 1803, aged about seventy-five. Mr. Robinson was an admirable classical scholar, to whose taste Gray paid great deference. He did not consider Mr. Mason as equal to the task of writing Gray's Life ; and on that account when Mason (from his knowledge of Mr. R.'s intimacy with Gray) communicated his intention to him, Mr. Robinson declined returning him an answer, which produced a coolness between them which was never afterwards made up. Mr. Robinson, however, owned that Mason had executed his task better than he had expected. The ' Lines on Lord Holland's House at Kingsgate,' were written when on a visit to Mr. Robinson, and found in the drawer of Gray^s dressing-table after he was gone. They were restored to him ; for he had no other copy, and had forgotten them. What was the real ground of the quarrel between Gray and Walpole when abroad, I do not know; * See the beautiful description of Kentish accnery, written on thit tour, in Gray's Letters, by Mason. I 2 Ixxxiv APPENDIX C. ' but have reason to believe that it was of too deep a nature ever to be era- dicated from Gray's bosom ; which I gather from certain expressions half dropped to Mr. Robinson. Mr. R. thought Gray not only a great poet, but an exemplary, amiable, and virtuous man. Gray's poem on ' Lord Holland' first appeared in the Gentleman's Magazine, vol. xlvii. p. 624, and vol. xlviii. p. 88 ; that on ' Jemmy Twitcher,' in vol. lii. p. 39. When he went to court to kiss the king's hand for his place, he felt a mixture of shyness and pride, which he expressed to one of his intimate friends in terms of strong ill-humour. APPENDIX D. CLASSIFICATION OF THE POETS, FORMED BY POPE. iERA I. Rymer 2d part. p. 65, 66, 67, 77. Petrarch, 78. Catal. of Provencals. [Poets.] 1 . School of C Chaucer's Visions.* Romaunt of the Rose. Pierce Plow- Provence. ^ man. Tales from Boccace. Gower. r Lydgate. 2. School of^T. Occleve. Chaucer, j Walter de Mapes. ^Skelton. r Earl of Surrey. 3. School ofjSir Thomas Wyat. Petrarch. Ysir Philip Sydney. \JG. Gascoyne. Translator of Ariosto's Comedy. r Mirror of Magistrates. 4. School of 1 j^^j.^, ijuckhurst's Induction. Gorboduck.— [Original of ^^"t^"- i good Tragedy.— Seneca his Model.] • Read. Chaucer's Romaunt of the Rose. Visions of Pierce Plowman. [Malone.] Ixxxvi APPENDIX D. ^Era II. Spenser. Col. Clout, from the School of Ariosto, and Petrarch, trans- lated from Tasso. 5. School of Spenser, and from Italian Sonnetts. W. Brown's Pastorals. Ph. Fletcher's Purple Island. Alabaster. Piscatory Eclogues. S. Daniel. Sir Walter Raleigh. Milton's Juvenilia. Heath. Habington. Translators from Italian. / Harrington. Golding. Edw. Fairfax. 6. School of Donne. ( Cowley. Davenant. Michael Drayton. Sir Thomas Overbury, Randolph. Sir John Davis. Sir John Beaumont. Cartwright. Cleiveland. Crashaw. Bishop Corbet. Lord Falkland. in matter," Carew, T. Carey, G. Sandys, in his") .^ ^^^^.^V Models to Waller. Par. of Job, > .. ' r cation. Fairfax, (Sir John Mennis,? ^^ of Hudibras. (Tho. Baynal, ) ^ APPENDIX D. IxXXVii Here are several mistakes. The first paragraph under ^ra II. viz. *' Spenser. Col. Clout, from the School of Ariosto, and Petrarch, trans- lated from Tasso," is unintelligible. We have no English poem by Ala- baster. Golding, I believe, translated nothing from the Italian. Sir John Davies and Drayton wrote nearly as soon as Donne. Carew, and T. Carey, are the same person ; and Thomas Carew, the person meant, had pub- lished nothing when Waller wrote his first poem. There is no poet of the name of Baynal. The person meant, I suspect, was Tho. Randal, in which way the name o^ Randolph the poet was often written in the last century ; and Pope might not have known that Randolph, whom he men- tioned before, and Tho. Randal, were the same person. [Malone.3 To these observations by Mr. Malone, I shall add, that there does not seem to be any just ground for placing Chaucer in the school of Provence. Mr. Tyrwhitt says : '* As to Chaucer's langitage, I have not observed, in any of his writings, a single phrase or tc'oi-d, which has the least appearance of having been fetched by him from the south of the Loiie. With respect to the manner and matter of his compositions, till some clear instance of imitation be produced, I shall be slow to believe, that in either he ever copied the poets of Provence, with whose works, I apprehend, he had very little, if any, acquaintance." [Cant. Tales, pref. p. xxxv.] Even T. War- ton, in his Emendations and Additions to his second volume [p. 458j, says : " I have never affirmed that Chaucer imitated the Proven9al bards j although it is by no means improbable that he might have known their tales." Secondly, Davenant and Drayton can never be placed in the scliool of Donne. Drayton should be ranked with Spenser; where indeed Pope, in his conversation with Spence, placed him : and Davenant is a poet who approaches nearer to Shakspeare, in the beauty of his descrip- tions, the tenderness of his thoughts, the seriousness of his feeling, and the wildness of his fancy. Cartwright did not imitate Donne : and Cleve- land is a writer of a very peculiar style, which he formed for himself. •' The obtrusiou oi' new words on his hearers (says Dryden) is what the world has blamed in our satirist Cleveland. To express a thing hard, and unnaturally, is his new way of elocution. There is this diHerenco between his Satires and Donne's, That the one gives us deep thoughts in common language, though rough cadence ; the other gives us common thoughts in abstruse words." Essay on Dramatic Poesy, p. 63, 64. IxXXViii APPENDIX D. Letter from T. Grai/, to Thomas JVarton. Sir, Our friend, Dr. Hurd, having long ago desired me, in your name, to com- municate any fragments or sketches of a design, I once had, to give a History of English Poetry, you may well think me rude or negligent, when you see me hesitating for so many months, before I comply with j'our request ; and yet, believe me, few of your friends have been better pleased than I, to find this subject, (surely neither unentertaining, nor un- useful,) had fallen into hands so likely to do it justice. Few have felt a higher esteem for your talents, your taste, and industry. In truth, the only cause of my delay, has been a sort of diffidence, that would not let me send you any thing, so short, so slight, and so imperfect as the few materials I had begun to collect, or the observations I had made on tliem. A sketch of the division or arrangement of the subject, however, I venture to transcribe ; and would wish to know, whether it corresponds in any thing with your own plan, for I am told your first volume is in the press. INTRODUCTION. On the poetry of the Galic or Celtic nations, as far back as it can be traced. On that of the Goths, its introduction into these islands by the Saxons and Danes, and its duration. On the origin of rhyme among the Franks, the Saxons, and Provengaux. Some account of the Latin rhyming poetry, from its early origin, down to the fifteenth century. Part I. On the School of Provence, which rose about the year 1 100, and was soon followed by the French and Italians. Their heroic poetry, or ro- mances in verse, allegories, fabliaux, syrvientes, comedies, farces, canzoni, sonnetts, balades, madrigals, sestines, &c. Of their imitators, the French ; APPF.XDIX D. Ixxxix and of the first Italian School, commonly called the Sicilian, about the year 1200, brought to perfection by Dante, Petrarch, Boccace, and others. State of poetry in England from the Conquest, 1066, or rather from Henry the Second's time, 1154, to the reign of Edward the Third, 1327. Part II. On Chaucer, who first introduced the manner of the Proven9aux, im- proved by the Italians, into our country. His character, and merits at large. The different kinds in which he excelled. Gower, Occlevc, Lyd- gatc, Hawes, Gawen Douglas, Lyndesay, Bellcnden, Dunbar, &c. Part III. Second Italian School, of Ariosto, Tasso, &c., an improvement on the first, occasioned by the revival of letters, the end of the fifteenth century. The Lyric Poetry of this and the former age, introduced from Italy by Lord Surrey, Sir T. Wyat, Bryan Lord Vaulx, &c. in the beginning of the sixteenth century. Part IV. Spenser, his character. Subject of his poem, allegoric and romantic, of Proven9al invention: but his manner of tracing it borrowed from the second Italian school. — Drayton, Fairfax, Phineas Fletcher, Golding, Phacr, &c. This school ends in Milton. A third Italian school, full of conceit, began in Queen Elizabeth's reign, continued under James, and Charles the First, by Donne, Crashaw, Cleveland ; carried to its height by Cowley, and ending perhaps in Sprat. Part V. School of France, introduced after the Restoration. — Waller, Dryden, Addison, Prior, and Pope, — which has continued to our own times. VOL. I. in XC APPENDIX D. You will observe that my idea was in some measure taken from a scribbled paper of Pope, of which I believe you have a copy. You will also see, I had excluded Dramatic poetry entirely ; which if you had taken in, it would at least double the bulk and labour of your book. 1 aui, sir, with great esteem. Your most humble and obedient servant, Thomas Gbay. Pembroke-Hall, April 15, 1770. ESSAY ON THE POETRY OF GRAY / I. On the Manner of Composition attributed to Gray by Mason. II. On the Harmony of his Verse, "with some Remarks on Vej-bal Imitatioji in Poetry. III. On his Language or Poetical Diction. IV. On the Moral and Pathetic Character of his Writings. V. On the prophetic Character of the Bard ; and on the Constriiction of the Pindaric Ode. VI. On the Notes to this Edition. VII. On the Criticisms by Dr. Johnson on the Poetry of Gray. I. To ascertain the method of composition adopted by a writer of cstabhshed excellence, and to discover the principles upon which he con- structed his poetry, is not only a subject of reasonable curiosity ; but may prove of no small advantage in enabling us to unfold some of the causes both of his beauties and defects. Mr. Mason observes,* " that Gray's conceptions, as well as his manner of disposing them, were so singularly exact, that he had seldom occasion to make many, except verbal emenda- tions, after he had first committed his lines to paper. It was never his method to sketch his general design in careless verse ; he always finished • Sec Mason's Memoirs of Gray, vol. iii. p. 157. m 2 XCii ESSAY ON THE POETRY OF GRAY. US he proceeded : this, though it made his execution slow, made his com- positions more perfect." And in a note to that passage he adds : " I have many of his critical letters by me on my own compositions : letters, which, thou'^h they would not amuse the public in general, contain excellent lessons for young poets, from one of these I extract the following ])assage, which seems to explain this matter more fully : • Extreme conciseness of expression, yet pure, perspicuous, and musical, is one of the grand beauties of lyric poetry : this I have always aimed at, and never could at- tain. The necessity of rhyming is one great obstacle to it : another, and perhaps a stronger, is that way you have chosen, of casting down your first thoughts carelessly and at large, and then clipping them here and there at leisure. This method, after all possible pains, will leave behind it a laxity, a diffuseness. The frame of a thought (otherwise well-in- vented, well-turned, and well-placed) is often weakened by it. Do I talk nonsense ? Or do you understand me ? I am persuaded what I say is true in my head, whatever it may be in prose ; for I do not pretend to write prose.'" It cannot, however, be intended, that this account should be re- ceived without considerable limitations ; as there exist sufficient proofs in the fragments of Gray's poetry to shew that, like other writers, when warmed by his subject, he left one part of his poem unfinished, to arrest tlie images that spontaneously arose for another ; and thus to j)reserve the chain of associations in his mind, unbroken and unimpaired. When any difficulty occurred in the conformation of one stanza, it is not pro- bable that he permitted the fire of his imagination to grow cool, and the strength of his conceptions to be weakened ; but passed on to that which presented itself in a happier and more perfect form. How far indeed the order and connexion in which our first thoughts present themselves, can be restored, if once broken, and the train of ideas recovered, which has been lost by minute exactness, and attention to other parts of the compo- sition, is at least a questionable point ; and deserving the consideration ESSAY ON THE POETRY OF GRAY. XciH of those, who, without possessing that exactness of conception attributed to Gray by his biographer, may endeavour to imitate the example of so successful a writer. But perhaps this method of composition, if taken in its proper sense, cannot be called the peculiar practice of the poet, but rather common to all much accustomed to arrange their thoughts in writ- ing, and whom use lias made skilful and exact. In such a case, the thoughts and language seem to be selected by the minti by an instan- taneous effort ; when, in fact, they arise according to the artificial arrange- ment and combination which have been gradually formed by the mental habits of the poet; and when they not seldom present themselves in that finished order which no future study can improve, but which seems per- fected as soon as produced. This becomes at last the natural eloquence of the mind; the intimate connexion of language and thought: and ac- cording as our conceptions are clear, and our thoughts select, so will the words in which they are clothed, acquire a proportionable correctness. I think, however, that this art, or power of the mind, though it is in a great degree to be attributed both to the natural strength, and to the dis- cipline of the poet's mind ; yet will also very much depend upon the effect of the different measures, and even styles, used in the poems, in proportion as they confine or give liberty to the genius of the writer. In a short metre, the images and language will be presented to the mind of a practised writer, by the confinement of the rhyme, and strictness of the measure, condensed, and moulded nearly into their finished form ; or in other words, the mind of the writer will feel by experience, that such thoughts can assume a certain shape in preference to any other: and can appear, with more force and beauty, than could be produced by any dif- ferent arrangement. Whereas in blank verse, and other measures of looser texture and greater length, the same thoughts would have room to expand into various shapes; would be capable of admitting diflLMeiit al- Xc'lY r.SSAY ON THE POETJIV OF GRAY. terations and combinations of language ; and the genius of the poet might, as it were, flower oft" into something of a wild and romantic luxu- riance. Blank verse, and all measures of length equal to that, must derive much of their effect, from the artificial arrangement, and disposition of the style ; by which words of common occurrence, and little elevated abo\ e the level of prose-writing, assume, in the unexpected order in which they are ranged, a new appearance, and a grace and dignity that would not' otherwise belong to them. Accordingly, many parts of the Paradise Lost derive their poetical effect from the disposition of the sen- tences, and arrangement of the words; where the language itself is such as might be used with propriety in the plainest prose. To form this in- verted language, as it may be called, so as to preserve its perspicuity, while it acquires force and elevation, demands the most skilful and the finest art of the poet ; and, in proportion to its difficulty, it is reasonable to expect that alterations, and amendments will be suggested by experience. The shortness of the lyric stanza, prevents it deriving its beauties, from mzich variation in the common structure of language. There is not room to alter in any great degree the usual arrrangement of words, and yet to re- tain that clearness of expression and transparency of thought, which is always required : ' No words transpos'd, but in such order all, As wrought with care, yet seem by chance to fall.' Its beauties accordingly are derived from other sources, which compen- sate for its deficiency, in one material branch of the poetical art. Though it does not receive its chief beauty from common words skilfully arranged, it is adorned with expressions, selected with taste, and not lowered by familiarity ; and while its structure does not admit the balanced and sus- pended harmony of a long period, it is able to assume another source of pleasure, from the agreeable impression of its rhymes. In this •way, I ESSAY ON THE POETRY OF CRAY. XCV think, we may account for the successive changes, as well as improve- ments, which so often take place in poems that afford a wide scope to the language of the writer, and which cannot be always attributed to inex- perience, or want of practice; as in the different editions of the Seasons* • The authority of Dr.Johnsoii has given currency to an opinion, that the Seasons of Thomson have not been much improved by the successive alterations of every fresh edition. He says, that they lost that raciness which they at first possessed. This opinion, I may venture to say, is by no means correct. They improved very mucli and very rapidly in the course of the second and third edition ; so much so, that I have often been struck, in reading them in the different stages of their improvement, with the uncommon change which must have taken place in the taste of the author during so short a period. For this change, in some degree, I can now account satisfactorily ; as I possess an interleaved copy of the Seasons (of the edition 1736) which belonged to Thomson, with his own alterations; and, with numerous alterations and additions by Pope, in his own writing. Almost all the amendments made by Pope, were adopted by Thomson in the last edition ; and many lines in the Seasons, as they now stand, are Pope's own composition. The last four lines of the tale of P.ilaemon and Lavinia are Pope's entirely : " Tlie fields, the master, all, my fair, are thine! If to the various blessings which thy house on me lavish'd Has shower'd upon me, thou that bliss wilt add, dearest That sweetest bliss, the power of blessing thee !" The four lines which Thomson wrote, and which stood in the place of these, in the printed edition of 1736, were : " With harvest shining all the fields are thine ! And, if my wishes may presume so far, Their master too, who then indeed were blest. To make the daughter of Acasto so." In the same episode, Thomson had printed the following lines : *' Thoughtless of beauty, she was Beauty's self, Kecluse among the woods; if city-dames Will deign their faith: and thus she went coinpell'd XCVl ESSAY OK TUT. POKTRY OF GRAY. of Tliomson, the Pleasures of Imagination by Akenside, the English Garden by Mason, and other poems. In these, the reader will observe, that it is not always the error or omission in the subject, but the unex- haustcd fancy of the poet, that leads to the alteration. It is mentioned as a saying of Pope's, by the younger Richardson the painter, " that in Garth's poem of The Dispensary, there was hardly an alteration, of the innumerable ones through every edition, that was not for the better."* Bj' strong Nccessitj', with as serene Anil plcas'd a look as Patience e'er put on. To glean Palaenion's fields." These lines Pope erased, and wrote the following in their place, which now gtand iu the subsequent editions : " Thoughtless of beauty, she was Beauty's self. Recluse among the close embowering woods, deep As in the hollow breast of Apennine, Beneath the shelter of encircling hills A myrtle rises, far from human eyes. And breathes its balmy fragrance o'er tiic wild : So flourish'd blooming, and unseen by all, The sweet Lavinia; till at length, compell'd By strong Necessity's supreme command. With smiling Patience in her looks, she went To glean Palaemon's fields." The 239th line of this episode now stands: " And as he view'd her ardent, o'er and o'er :" But in the edition of 1736, it is somewhat comically expressed : " Tlien blaz'd his smother'd flame, avow'd and bold. And as he run her ardent, o'er and o'er," &c. This however Thomson himself altered. « See Riehardsoniana, p. 195, note. "A work" (says Richardson) " that has had a great ESSAY ON THE POETRY OF GRAY. XCvil But in the didactic poems mentioned above, their looser measures* were opened at intervals to receive, not so much the corrections of the writer's judgement, as the overflowings of his imagination ; and in this respect, they may perliaps be compared to those structures built by Saxon or Sara- cenic architects, wliich may be added to, or diminished, without destroy- ing the integrity of the whole. In such poems there is so little artificial confinement of the verse, that the alterations which may be introduced at tlie will of the poet, are almost endless : and I think something akin to this will be acknowledged by any one, who, being much accustomed to the stricter habits of versification, for the first time begins to devote his attention, to composition in prose. Dryden said, tliat the verse of four fect,t that in which Iludibras, and the Fables of Gay, and many lyrical vogue, and which is afterwards altered by the writer himself, is generally thought at first to be altered for the worse ; as was the case with Garth's Dispensary. People had been so accus- tomed to read it over and over, and even to repeat whole passages by heart, of the first edition, that their ear could not bear the change, and tliey tliought it was their judgement. We now see fairly, that every edition was for the better." See Pack's Miscellanies, p. 102. • See Dryden's Prolegomena to his Essay on Dramatic Poetry, p 13, ed. Malone. "The great easiness of blank verse, renders the poet too luxuriant. He is tempted to say many things which might better be omitted ; or at least be shut up in fewer words. But when the difficulty of artful rhyming is interposed, when the poet commonly confines his sense to his couplet, and must contrive that sense in such words that the rhyme shall naturally follovr them, not thoy the rhyme ; the fancy then gives leisure to the judgement to come in, which, seeing so heavy a tax imposed, is ready to cut otl' all unnecessary expenses. This last consi- deration has already answered an objection «liicli some have made ; that rhyme is only an embroidery of sense, to make tliat which is ordinary in itself, pass for excellent with less examination. But certainly that which most regulates the fancy, and gives the judgement its busiest emploj'ment, is like to bring forth the richest and clearest thoughts." t Almost all the old metrical romances or tales are wriitcn in short metre. Some, like ' Kynge Home,' in verse of three feet only: a form of verse since used by Skclton. The assistance which this short measure, with the frehicli, indeed, it seems to coincide j with tliis sole distinction, that many * See Mason's Memoirs of Gray, vol. iii. p. 28. f So Quinctilian : " Ut qiiotidiani et semper eodem modo format! sermonis fastidium level, et nos a vulgari dicendi genere defendat," Lib. ix. c. 3, 3. And thus Aristotle, opposing the opinion of the critic Ariphrades, on some forms of expression used by the tragic poets: Aict yas ro u.^ s'vai Jv roTj xucioic, ttoiBi ro jaij 'ihtuTiv.w h ri? A.sfsi airavra ra, roiavra. Ey.s'vos SI royro rj-yvoei. Cap. x/3. + Cerceau, in his Reflexions sur la Poesie Frangoise, attributes such power to inversion of language, as to make it the characteristic of French versification, and the single circumstance which in their language divides verse from prose. ESSAY on: tiif, poetry of gray. CXVll of the idioms and expressions in his poetry, instead of reminding us of the language of the older English poets, seem to be drawn from foreign as well as native sources, from the Greek and Latin, as well as modern writers. There are passages in almost every stanza of Gray, which bring into our minds by association, some beautiful turn of expression, some bolder or some more graceful thought, some judicious introduction of foreign and metaphorical language, from the admired writers of Greece or Rome. By these means, the genius of the poet, instead of leading, seems only to accompany us into the regions of his beautiful creation ; while the activity of our imagination multiplies into a thousand forms the solitary image it has received ; and the memory, gathering up the most distant associations, surrounds the poet with a lustre not his own. This elevated style seems peculiarly adapted to express the sublimity, force, and grandeur which characterize lyrical poetry ; and Gray has suited the quality of the style with admirable taste to the subject of the poem. In no instance does it appear, that any expression or word which he has selected from English authority, or which he has borrowed analogically from the ancient writers, is obscure from disuse, or on account of the re- mote source from which it came. Nor indeed docs his language ever sug- gest to the reader, that the thought was introduced for the sake of the expression,* or that the subject was subservient to the language ; but as his feeling was correct, and his fancy elevated, so his language, as I before obscrvcil, was forcible, and his words elegant. And it is also not unworthy of observation, that though the expressions of (J ray arc elaborate and adorned, the feeling of the poet is not weakened or obscured, but seen » " Tliat for a tricksic Hord Defy the matter." Merchant of Venice, Act ili. Scene 6. CXVlll ESSAY OX THE lOETUV OF CKAV. distinctly through the medium of his language ; so that even those readers, of a numerous class, who would have been repelled by the learned air of his expression, as very many have been by that of Milton, are yet attracted by the striking sublimity of the subject, and still more by the peculiar pathos that softens his compositions, and brings them closer to the commdn feelings of mankind. There is indeed great richness and splendor in his ornaments ; but, in the words of the Roman critic,* " Ornatus et virilis, et fortis, et sanctus est ; nee effeminatam Icvitatem, ct fuco omincntcni colorcra amat, sanguine et viribns nitct." Gray dei'ives a very great advantage from the sources of his style being widely spread ; whence there is no appearance of his having formed his manner from any one writer, or any particular school of composition. This appears to me to be also the praise of Shakspeare, whose language, founded upon large and collective observation, is not to be imitated like that of Spenser or Milton ; as it is free from the frequent peculiarities in which they abound, and which are easily and anxiously caught by those who do not in the least participate in the genius of their model. In the choice of his words and phrases, Shakspeare appears to be in the least possible degree a mannerist. His thoughts, indeed, were often copied by the dra- matic writers who lived in his days, and who enriched their i)oems with many a splendid fragment taken from his works. But his language was less easily to be imitated : it was the natural result of his taste and genius, entirely unfettered by the destructive rules of system. The language of Gray, however, has not escaped without much repre- hension. It has been thought too much laboured, too generally elevated. * QuiuctUiani Inst. Orator, viii. ", 7. ed. Gesuer. 4to. ESSAY OX THE PO£TRV OF GRAY. CXIX and too highly adorned. On first hearing this objection, it appears that it does not act peculiarly against our poet, but might with not unequal force be urged against a whole class of writers ; against Milton, perhaps Spensei, and in later times against Akenside and Collins, and Mason and T.Warton, and many other poets, who have selected the beautiful expressions and forcible language of older times, and have united them by a judicious dis- position into an ornamented style of their own. In poetry as well as prose, there are various styles, each of its own peculiar merit, fitted to the genius of him who invented, adopted, or improved it; and it also must be re- marked, that one species of poetry demands a style wholly different from another ; — that Gray's lyrical style, if ornamented, is not to be censured, because Goldsmith's descriptive style is plain ; that the Epic, the Dramatic Poem, the Elegy, the Epistle, and the Ode, are formed in models as re- mote as possible : " On ne songe pas, (says ISI. dc la Motte, in the very sensible preface to his Fables,) qu'il y a plusieurs graces, qui, sans se res- scmbler, peuvent se remplacer les unes les autres, et faire un plaisir, egal, quoiqu'il ne soit pas Ic meme." This objection certainly has a tendency to establish a rule, that poetry possesses but one generic style or manner adapted to it ; and that all other styles are more or less erroneous, in pro- portion as they depart from this imaginary standard of excellence. Ill Gray, as it is evident that the most exquisite attention has been paid to the harmony of his numbers and the cadence of his verse, so his language also is generally elevated above that style of which the greater part of poetry consists : or, in other words, it is raised to that point, which is the level of the finer and more elaborate parts of most poems. Upon this ground, I think, the objection is fomided. To which I should observe, that such a species of composition, in my opinion at least, is in no wise mis- placed, but, on the other hand, is productive of the greatest beauty in that species of poetry, to which the chief part of Gray's productions is confined ; CXX ESSAY ON" TIIR POETRY Ol' OKAY. namely, the Ode. In compositions where action is carried on, there is something to assist the language, to supply its defects, 'and conceal its weakness, by an interest of its own. But lyrical poetry is conversant more generally with sentiment and description than action : it does not appeal to the passions, but is adorned with the display of the imagination. In another point of view also, in poems of greater length, the variation of the subject demands a difference of style ; in epic and dramatic compositions, some parts must be subservient ; in poems of great length, as it is said in great compositions in painting, considerable part imtst be common and or- dinary.* Many parts inat/ be of little consequence ; and there may be qualities in the various branches of those compositions, hostile to embel- lishment. Pope, in a letter to Mr. Walsh says, " to bestow heightening on every part, is monstrous. Some parts ought to be lower than the rest: and nothing looks more ridiculous than a work, where the tlioughts, however different in their own nature, seem all on a level." Aristotle recommends the poet to reserve for those parts of the poem that display no action (iv rolg d^yoig fjt.e^Ba-i), the most elaborate and adorned lan- guage, knowing that in these parts, the beauty of the language must supply that interest that cannot be borrowed from the action. — To con- clude this branch of the subject; as 1 observed, that the style or diction of Gray's poems derived an excellence from its being formed upon wide * This is agreeable to the opinion of D' Alembert, in his Reflexions sur la Poesie. " En effet, un long ouvrago doit ressembler, proportion gardee, a une longue conversation, qui pour etre agreable, sans etre fatigante, ne doit etre vive et animee, que par intervalles. Ou dans un sujet noble, !es vers cesscnt d'etre agreables, des qu'ils sont negliges; et d'un autre cote Ic plaisir s'emoi.sse par la continuite meme." See also some sensible reflections on this subject in the xviiith Lecture, of Dr. Priestley's Lectures on Oratory and Criticism. And Beattie's Essay on Poetry, p.S60.4to. ESSAV ON Tin: POF/iJiv or gkay. cxxi observation, and from various sources ; so, I should think the diction of his contemporary Warton liable to censure ; insomuch, as he has selected his words, his descriptions, his epithets, and the general character of his style, from the pages of a few authors, from Spenser, Milton, and the less eminent poets, Drayton and Browne, with some others : " Iloscc secutus Mutatis tantum numcris : — " a practice, which has, in my opinion at least, detracted very materially from the flow and ease of his writing, which has given to many of his poems an appearance of intended imitation, of being formed upon some particular and confined system ; instead of the genius of the poet appearing to com- mand, arrange, and adorn all the assistance which he thought it necessary to procure. That poetry is most excellent, where the character of the poet appears with strong and visible features, through the design of the poem. The poetry of Warton does not appear to me to give us any insight into the character of the man. It seems assumed for the occasion; and not poured out from the fullness of the mind. We form no estimate of his real tenderness, elegance, or vigour. It is the artist alone, and not the man, that is visible.* I should almost think it necessary to make some apology for the observations which I have afforded on the poetry of T. Warton, were I not confident that they proceed from the most attentive, and, as far as I am aware, the most impartial consideration of his works : nor is it to be forgotten that his great merits in other branches of the poetic art, may * I must remark, in this place, that the observations which I have presumed to make on the poetry of Warton, do not apply to all his poetry. Some of his Sonnets and Odes, are written with real feeling, and true poetic character, At the same time I should not be inclined to rank ' The Suicide' among the happier productions of his fancy. VOL. J. q CXXll ESSAY ON THE POETRY OF GRAY. amply compensate for his deficiency in this. I certainly think that the system upon which he formed his phraseology was wrong : that it is not the language of nature ; or of art that constantly keeps nature in view : that it is rather the production of a confined and impaired taste, excited by an unhealtiiy state of association in the mind : that it is not language that can be relished and enjoyed by the generality of readers ; I mean of those who know and feel what true poetry is. If not, to what other crite- rion is it to be referred ? Addison tells us, " that poetry, like all the other fine arts, is to deduce its laws from the general sense and taste of mankind." The poet indeed, and those educated in the same habits of thought, may gaze with delight on the forms of his own partial creation ; but they can- not be expected to produce any effect upon the taste or feeling of society. The compositions of all good writers have, of necessity, that difference which arises from the peculiar habits of association formed by them : and in the degree in which those habits unite with or differ from those of the world in general, arises the popularity or neglect of the poet. He who has formed his associations from a narrow system, and from a confined and par- tial acquaintance with general nature, must expect that his admirers will na- turally be but few. As the works of the ancients, the writei-s of Greece and Rome, are almost universally read, are familiar to us from early age, have received the approving sanction of time, and are inferior only to the great book of Nature itself; whoever borrows from them, takes from a source with which his readers are acquainted perhaps equally with him- self; where every image will bring some j)leasing association, and every allusion call up a train of awakened recollections. How great then must the difference be, when we are reading the works of him whose phraseology is brought from the comparatively confined school of Englisii poetry ! To some it may be absolutely strange, and repulsive in a greater degree than the works of the old writers themselves, and that for an obvious reason : ESSAY ON THE POETRY OK GRAY. CXXllI by many others, it will be read, separated from the general mass of their knowledge, and unadorned by all the charms that the mind of tlie reader adds to the expression of the writer. The attention will be dissipated, and drawn from the subject to the style ; a language will be presented, in which we have never been accustomed to think and reflect, and which can never repay what it loses in not being a general vehicle of thought, by appearing to be the fruit of curious and speculative attention, " Every composition (as Mr. Alison* observes) may be considered faulty or de- fective, in which the expression of the art is more striking than the ex- pression of the subject." Moreover, this style separates, as it were, by an artificial contrivance, the connexion of the thought and the language; when instead of being produced together, and joined by the long-estab- lished habits of the mind in the finest and most inseparable connexions, the former seems to wait after its birth, till it is modelled and dressed by the fancy of the poet, in the garb which he most admires. To this fault in his phraseology the same writer adds anotlier, proceeding from the same cause ; namely, the bent of his mind towards a certain species of iniagei-ij and subject-matter, which, however excellent in itself, is con- fessedly injurious to his poetry, by too constant a repetition. Shakspearef • See Alison's Essay on the Nature and Principles of Taste. Ed. 410. p. 339. f I made some remarks before on the language of Shakspeare. Cowper, in his Letters, (vol. i. let. exxix.) observes, " that Milton had taken a long stride forward, left the language of his own day far behind hira, and anticipated the expressions of a century yet to come." Certain it is, that the style of Milton's poetry is much more easy and graceful, and has a far less antiquated appearance, than that of his prose-writings. Spenser, on the other hand, used an antiquated language by choice. Sir William Davenant, in the preface to Gondibert, re- marks, that " our language did receive from his hand new gr.ifts of old withered words." And Daniel alludes to Spenser in almost the same words, in the sonnet, which begins, q '1 CXxiv ESSAY ON THE POETRY OF GRAY. is more popular than other poets, because his thoughts are more general ; expanding upon a wider theatre, connected with more popular feelings, united with more common impressions, and formed upon more extensive observation. With regard to the diction of the tragedy of Agrippina,* as I think that, in lyrical poetry, Gray used the language and style most agreeable to the nature of it; so in his fragment of his tragedy, the manner of his composition, with some little exception, seems suited to the nature of his drama. He has at least avoided, and this is no common praise, mixing the more familiar and less elevated dramatic style, with the bolder lan- " Let others sing of knights and palladines, In antique phrases, and old wither'd words ; Paint shadows, in imaginary lines, &c." His language, notwithstanding what some critics say, is, I think, assuredly more ancient than that of Drayton, Daniel, or the Fletchers. How much it differed from the current language of that time, may be seen by comparing it with Shakspeare. From the works of the dramatic writers, we may best judge of the poetical language of their days. The nature of their com- positions would not receive an antiquated or obsolete diction, lest they should offend against the golden rule, " Populo ut placerent, quas fecisset fabulas." A play, whose language was obselete, would be pardoned by neither pit, gallery, nor boxes — " Non Homines, non Di, non concessere Columns." * In the Heroic verse of tragedy, the supernumerary, or hypercatalectic syllable, in general denied to the Epic poem, is used, in order to reduce the elevated style nearer to the tone of common life ; to give it ease and famili.irity, " propter similitudinem sermonis." When this syllable is used, our heroic verse is then the same as that used by the Italians, the five-footed, with the additional syllable. Shcnstone remarks the melancholy and tender flow occasioned by this syllable in the plays of Otway : see his Essays, p. 233. ESSAY ON THE POETRY OF GRAY.* CXXV guage, the more elaborate description, the greater variety, and the com- plex machinery of the epic fable. He knew that the tone of tragedy was lower, and nearer to common life, as the power of its deception was less perfect, than that of the epic poem : as it affects tlirough the medium of living action; and as tlie impropriety of that language would immediately be felt, which removed itself as far as it could, from that wliich it designed to represent. Aristotle* remarked, tliat the sentiments and manners were obscured by too s])lendid a diction ; ccjrox^vTrst yu^ 'zai.Di ti xia* Xot,ju,T^a Xs'iii, Tu. Yji^r,, za'i tu.; Itavolag. Acordiiigly, when a dramatic composition is highly adorned with luxuriance of language and pomp of sentiment, as the Comus of Milton; we should pronounce it, as it more and more recedes from the appearance of copying natural life, ratiier adapted to the closet'(" than to the stage ; by which is only meant, that though it does not possess those qualities of interesting action, and a lively representation of tiie manners and character, which by nature are adapted to please all minds ; yet it still possesses merits in language, sen- timent, plot, or other parts of the drama, which can be relished by the in- structed and enlightened reader. It loses indeed its original character ; but by the genius of the poet it is enabled to assume another, which, to a certain extent, will produce pleasure of a different kind. The very short period allowed for the dramatic fable, in comparison with the duration of the epic poem, is also another reason why there is less room for ornament. To restrain, however, the overflowings of their imagination, and to keep the thoughts and language subdued, and subservient to the action of the drama, has always been one of the difficult parts of the poet's task. It • See Aristot. Poetic, cap. xJ. p. 95, ed. Cooke. ■j- That whicli wc chII a closi't-phiy, addri-sscs itself to tlu> imagination and pas^sions only: a play whicli is represented, both to the eye and the imagination : an opera, to the e;u- and eye ; and little, or not at all, to the imagination. CXXVI ESSAY ON' TIIK POETRY OF GRAY. certainly has not been sufficiently observed by many of our dramatic writers, by Congreve in the Mourning Bride, by Kowe, and particularly by Drydcn.* In this tragedy of Agrippina, there is great compactness in the versification, and sufficient ornament in the language. But the cadence of the numbers is, I think, peculiar; the expression has a la- boured appearance, and the character of tiie whole has not that native air, the absence of which, in the dramatic fable, hardly any excellence can sujtply. The eye of the poet was perhaps too constantly fixed upon the unbending and declamatory style of the French drama, which has pre- vented tlie superior beauty, the language of nature, breaking out into that simplicity and freshness of expression, with which Shakspeare abounds, and which is of infinitely more value than the most eloquent pages of French declamation. As regards the subject of this play, from the short- ness of the fragment, it is not easy to judge what beauties might be intro- duced, what difficulties might be overcome ; but it does not appear to me to be happily chosen ; it is of such a nature, as would force a poet to * It is just to Dryden to mention a passage which he has written in defence of himself in the parallel between poetry and painting, prefixed to his translation of Du Fresnoy. " The faults (he says) of that drama, The Spanish Fryar, are in the kind of it, which is tragi-comcdy; but it was given to the people ; and I never writ any thing for myself, but Antony and ClcO' patra." — Atterbury attributes both the introduction and subsequent disuse of rhyme upon the stage, to Dryden: " There is a third person (Dryden), the living glory of our English poetry, who has disclaimed the use of rhyme upon the stage, though no man ever employed it there so happily as he. It was the strength of his genius that first brought it into credit in plajiB, and it is the force of his example that has thrown it out again." ( Atterbury's Works, vol.iv. p. 103.) The Earl of Orrery was one of the first who introduced entire tragedies in rhyme. The reign of rhyming-tragedies, which were introduced by the bad taste of Charles the Second, who had heard and admired them in France, lasted about fifteen years, from 1662, to 1676. A few Heroic plays afterwards appeared, but they were not long-Jived. See Malone's Dryden, ii. p. 431. ESSAY ON THE POETRY OF GRAY. CXXVU description, rather than action ; it leaves the gentle, and temperate passions untouched; the characters are almost all wicked or designings remarkable either for their baseness or atrocity ; whose punishment does not excite our terror, whose misfortunes do not move our compassion ; and we turn away from a plot that is laid in a tissue of ingratitude, adul- tery, and murder. Certain it is, that tlie character of this tragedy does not come within the scope of tlie rules laid down by Aristotle, in the eleventh section of his Poetics ; but would rather be excluded by the third proposition, " That the raisfoitunes of a wicked person ought not to be represented ; because, though such a subject may be pleasing from its moral tendency, it will produce neither pity nor terror; lor our pity is excited by misfortunes undeservedly suffered, and our terror by some resemblance between the sufferer and ourselves ; neither of these effects would therefore be produced by such an event."* Mr. Mason remarks, " that something which unites the French and English style in drama, would be preferable to either." I should, how- ever, question the possibility of putting this into practice ; as the charac- ter of the poetry, the genius of the language, their merits and defects, are so op])osite, as to prevent their uniting and harmonizing into one system. The standard of excellence is not the same in each, and the rules of their criticism proceed upon different principles. C^orrect imitation of nature, in tiie extent that poetical imitation is justly allowed, boundless variety, anil nice appropriation of character, masterly touches of maimers and sentiments, that just expression which directly conveys the intended thought with force and truth, 'great fancy and flowing words,' are • See Twining's Translation of Aristotle's Poetics, p. 87. And Hurd's Dissertation on tlie Provinces of the Drama, vol. ii. p. 179. And Harris's Philological Inquiries, vol. i. p. 168. CXXVlll ESSAY ON THK POETRY OF GRAY. among the chief merits of Shakspeare. In the French drama, collectively speaking, the individual is lost in the generalization of character. It is the class, and not the person, that is described; while in the place of natural feeling and character, a certain imaginary standard of excellence is erected ; which, while it excelled the Greek drama in correctness and poetic propriety, left behind its beautiful description, its exquisite expres- sion, and the varied spirit of its lyrical poetry. Rousseau seems to ac- knowledge this defect in the French drama, when he wishes to except one favourite poet from it. " Chez Racine (he says) tout est sentiment. II a su faire paiicr chaain pour .so/, et c'est en cela, qu'il estvraiment uni- que, parmi les auteurs dramatiques de sa nation."* The drama of Gray appears to be founded in a considerable degree upon the latter plan ; but the most complete specimen that we possess of this foreign style, is the Cato of Addison, which sacrificed greater beauties, to moral sentiments, to uncharacteristic imagery, and to cold and lifeless declamation ; copied, as Dr. Warton justly observes, from the writings of Seneca, and the reflec- tions of Tacitus. Good and beautiful compositions may undoubtedly be produced on both systems ; and who would wish to deny the pleasure he receives from the poetry of Racine and Corneille ? but the excellence of * On the want of character in the French plays, see Webb on Poetry, p. lO*; who quotes a note from Dacier on the passage in Aristotle's Poetics, where he is censuring the poets of his time, for being weak in the manners. [Ai yip twv vicuv twv irXiia-Tuiv, Irfiac rcayaiilxt eicri.J " Aujourdhui, dans la plus part des pieces de nos poetes, on ne connoit les mceurs des per- sonnages qu'en les voiant agir." — There is a very curious passage in the ' Segresiana,' on this subject, p. 64 : " Autre defaut de Racine, c'est que ses acteurs n'ont pas le caractere qu'ils doivent avoir. Etant une fois pres de Corneille, sur le Theatre a une representation du Bajazet, il me dit, — ^je me garderois biun de le dire a d'autre que vous, parce qu'on diroit, que j'en parlerois par jalousie, mais prenez y garde, il n'y a pas un seul personnage dans le Baja- zet, qui ait les sentimens qu'il doit avoir, et que I'on a a Constantinople ; ils ont tous, sous un habit Turc, le sentiment qu'on a au milieu de la France." ESSAY ON THK POETRY OF GKAY. CXxix the one system over the other, must still remain unquestionable, as long as nature, and genius, and wit, and humour, can instruct and delight the world. I must not be supposed to mean, by what I have said on the defects of the French Dramatists, that they have all of them failed in their endeavour to represent character and action with the faithfulness of an accurate copy ; but rather that they never intended to represent it at all, according to our notions of imitation. As I think most will agree in the opinion expressed on this subject by a singularly acute and sensible writer,* I shall beg leave to state it in his own words. " To present a faithful picture of human life, or of human passions, seems not to have been his j" (Corneille's) conception of the intention of tragedy. His object, on the contrary, seems to have been, to exalt and to elevate the imagination, to awaken only the greatest and noblest passions of the human mind, and, by presenting such scenes and such events alone as could most powerfully promote this end, to render the theatre a school of sublime instruction, rather than an imitation of common life. To effect this purpose, he was early led to see the neces- sity, or disposed by the greatness of his own mind, to the observation of an uniform character of dignity ; to disregard whatever of common, of trivial, or even of pathetic, in the originals from which he copied, might serve to interrupt this peculiar flow of emotion ; and instead of giving a simple copy of nature, to adorn the events he represented, with all that * Ste Alison's Essay on tlic Nature and Principles of Taste, p. 109, 4-to. f As Corneillc introduced into the Drama, that ndmiralion which is the End, of tlie Epic Poem : so, on tlie other hand, Davenant formed the Epic Poem, on the close, and pathetic plot of the Tragedy. It is said, tlwt Corneille preferred the Pharsaliato the/Eneid. Sec Beattie on Poetry, p. 433. VOL. I. r CXXX ESSAY ON THK POETRY OF GRAY. eloquence and poetry could afford. He maintains, accordingly, in all his best plays, amid mucli exaggeration, and much of the false eloquence of his time, a tone of commanding, and even of fascinating dignity, which disposes us almost to believe, that we are conversing with beings of an high- er order than our own ; and which blinds us, at least for a time, to all the faults and all the imperfections of his composition. I am far from being disposed to defend his opinions of tragedy ; and still less, to excuse his ex- travagance and bombast. But I conceive, that no person can feel his beauties, or do justice to his merits, who does not regard his tragedies in this view ; and I think, that some allowance ought to be made for the faults of a poet, who first shewed to his country the example of regular tragedy, and whose works the great prince of Cond^ called, " The Breviary of Kings." When Mr. Mason proposed to join the French and English style in the drama, did he consider how difficult it is, to unite the poetical style, or character, of two distinct people ; with all their separate combinations, their own associated images, and all those hereditary habits of thought, which distinguish not only the individual, but the nation ? Though the poetry of one nation may certainly assimilate to that of another, more nearlv than it does to a third ; yet it always possesses some radical features of its own ; some principles native to it, which do not bear transplanting ; some strong fibrous parts, that will grow in none but their original soil. The nearest approximation perhaps of the genius of any two nations, was that of the Greeks and the Romans; yet, the latter were but imitators and followers of the former : they acknowledged the Greeks always as their masters in taste and genius ; and even with this consideration we well know, how many authors, how much taste, how much genius, how much charac- teristic feeling, among the latter ; never found a parallel, upon the shores of ancient Italy. ESSAY ON TIIK POETRY OP O R A Y. CXXxi IV. Having thus briefly considered the poems of Gray, with regard to the harmony of their numbers, and the beauty of their language, I may now oflfer some remarks concerning the moral, and pathetic character which distinguishes them. I have mentioned, that Gray attributed the peculiar success of his Elegy in a Country Church-yard, not to the just- ness of the sentiment, or the beauty of the expression, but entirely to the captivating pathos of the subject; and this Mr. Mason had in view, when he applied to it the motto from Virgil, previously used by Young — " Sunt lacrymae rerum, et mentem mortalia tangunt." — Though the mind of Gray, like that of every real poet, was peculiarly susceptible of the impressions of natural scenery, and though it had a very strong and forcible hold of his feelings ; yet he has never made such descriptions the entire subject- matter of any poem ; but seems rather to hasten from them to the moral which they suggest ; to the excitement of serious feeling, or j)athetic sentiment, or powerful and sublime emotion. In a letter which he wrote to Dr. Beattie,* containing some criticisms on part of the Minstrel, he says, — " What weighs most with me, it will throw more of action, pathos, and interest into your design, which already abounds in reflection and sentiment. As to description, I have always thought that it made the most graceful ornament of poetry, but never ought to make the subject." — The practice of Gray seems to mc, to co- incide very correctly with his advice. He appears never to introduce na- tural description! solely for its own sake, but always with some further • Sec Mason's Memoirs of Gray, vol. iv. p. 209. fin one of Swift's letters, (vol.xii.p. iH, ed. NiclioUs,) he says — " One Thomson has succeeded the best in that way, i. e. blank verse, in four poems he has writ on the four seasons ; yet I am not over-fond of them, because they are all descriptive, and nothing is doing ; whcreaa r2 CXXXU ESSAY OX THE POETRY OF GRAY. tendency, to draw from it some moral reflection, or to make it an agreeable embellishment of action. Not one of his poems can be called purely de- scriptive : but they generally commence with a view of nature, as of the morning, in the Ode to Vicissitude, or of evening in the Elegy, which suggesting some natural reflections to the mind of the poet, while they pass away themselves, leave forcible impressions of the feelings which they have inspired, and the train of thought which they have generated in the mind. The reason that induced Gray to reject the two stanzas towards the conclusion of the Elegy, " 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 : — " And, " There scatter'd oft, the earliest of the year, By hands unseen, are showers of violets found : The redbreast loves to build, and warble there. And little footsteps lightly print the ground ! — " though almost unobjectionable* in themselves, and indeed very beautiful. Milton engages men in actions of tlie highest importance." See some reflections on this subject, as regards painting, in Du Bos, Reflexions sur la Poesie et la Peinture, vol. i. chap. vi. And Beattie on Poetry, p. 375, 4to. *I have said, ''almost unobjectionable;" because I have some doubts, whether the third line of the first stanza, " Oft as the woodlark pip'd her Jareviell song," is, either in the thought or expression, quite suited to the character of the person who is supposed to make the reflection. 1 may also venture to suggest, whether the expression so weU ESSAY ON THE POETIlY OF GRAY. CXXXill as pieces of description, probably was, lest the descriptive part, which re- tarded the action of this latter part of the poem, might offend by its length, and interrupt by unnecessary images, the simplicity and unity of the composition. Dr. Blair observes witli justice, " That it is a great beauty in Milton's L' Allegro, that it is all alive and full of persons :"* and this observation the critic might have extended, with equal justice, to all his poetry. I do not mention this feature in the poetry of Gray, as his jiectiliar praise ; because the general effect of natural scenery, or the impression of certain objects related to it, is to suggest to the mind, by their gran- deur, extent, and solemnity ; or by awakening ideas of health, content, and the domestic tranquillity, which we justly associate with such scenes ; a train of moral feelings ; upon which depend many pleasing remem- brances, many powerful affections, many personal hopes, many human fears, and many images of happiness past or to come : " Vetustae vitae imago, Et specimen venientis sevi " Such seems to be the general effect of natural scenery ; however the liveliness, or duration of the impression may depend on the relative 1 . ■ f ,• ^l i'lyov. It appears that the principal authors of this lyrical corruption, were Timotheus and Philoxenus. Dionysius,t in his nineteenth section of his Treatise ffe^< 2uv^£fl-£4j; 'Ovotxa.Tuv, says, ITa^a ys rtnc, d^'^uioig, rsTayf^ii/og ^ o Itdu- §afji.Cog. According to Dionysius, there were three several changes in the lyrical poem, or ode. Alcasus and Sappho, the oldest writers in this line, had short strophes and antistrophes, consisting of a few lines each, and very short epodcs. Stesichorus and Pindar enlarged and lengthened them, fjcei^ovg l^yutnx.f/.ivoi rug vs^ioSovg, ilg ttoXXk i^'ir^Uy xa.) k.m}m, ^nviifj(,a.v uCtuc, But the Dithyrambic poets wlia followed, Timotheus, Telestes, and Phi- according to the situation. " Extended similes give universally more satisfaction in the description of a still scene, than in the representation of a very active and busy one. In the former case, the mind is in no haste, ns we may say, to return to the principal subject : in the latter, it is often impatient of the least diversion from it." The reader may find some very sound observations on this subject, supportcii by sufficient examples, in his Lectures on Oratory and Criticism, p. 17+, 4to. And Webb, on Poetry, p. 107. • Vid. Aristot. Problcmata xix. Sect. 15. \ Vid. Dionys. de Structura Orationis, ed. Upton, p. 15G. Cl £SSAY ON THE POETRY OF GRAY. loxenus, introduced other measures, so as almost to render themselves free of all laws. —A confirmation of the truth of this passage from Diony- sius, may be found in the Treatise of Plutarch -Tno) M&u(r7i(rKi tuv kocXcou iKsUm, iv oig acer^a(p;;, t« ^tXo^ivov ^\, r.ui TiUjoS'iov lK[x,a,i)6civiiv, Kcti rouTuv avTuti Tcc xoix.t'kuTara, y.an vKtKrrrii/ iv auToit If ' iyovTCC xunoTOfjtiiuv. In this very brief sketch of the poetry of the lyre, we see the history of the rise and decline of poetry in general. The simple structure, border- ing on hardness in the first instance : secondly, the completion of its con- formation, and the perfection of its parts: and, lastly, by that love of variety which is always acting with so much force upon the fine arts, we behold' the beauty of its structure destroyed, and an irregular and loose system of versification built upon its ruins. What the Roman poet says of Pindar, *• Seu per audaces nova dithyrambos Verba devolvit, numerisque fertur, Lege solutis,"* docs not apply to any part of Pindar's poetry now remaining ; but solely to that species of poetry in which he composed, called dithyrambic ; and • These lines in Horace, are, I should think, the foundation of the common opinion, that the Odes of Pindar are irregular and wild in their formation. Gerard, in his ' Essay on Genius,' hasTallen into this mistake: " Pindar's fancy (he says) was wild ; his versification also was irre- gular." Essay, p. 424. ESSAV ON THE POETRY OF GRAY. cli of which no specimens liave reached us. Instead therefore of the odes of Cowley, and other writers, being Pindaric odes, they would propcily rank under what is called by Greek writers, the 'J^iXo^enlog r^oTog, and would be the 6)iu,i fjiyaxocci, X.U.] ToXvsiSiic. Nor was it without reason that Gray called his a Pindaric ode ; because in what is called i\\e formal part of it, it is modelled after the example of the Theban bard. It is mentioned as Gray's opinion, in the Memoirs of Mason,* "that each stanza of the lyric ode should have but nine lines, to make the ear perceive the return of the regular metre ; and that Pindar has many such odes." He appears how- ever to have altered his opinion on this subject, before he wrote The Bard. He probably found, that an ode of this structure did not admit sufficient variety. Tlie Ode by Fenton to Lord Go\ver,+ which received the praise of Pope and Akenside, is formed in stanzas of ten lines. * See Mason's Jlemoirs, vol. iii. p 157. I may mention here, that the ' Progress of Poetry' is purely a narrative ode. ' The Bard' is, strictly speaking, a dramatic ode. Such are the Pindaric odes mentioned by Mr. Twining, viz. Olymp. i. Ant. y. Olymp. vi. Epod. a.y. Olj-mp. viii. Ep. /3. Pyth. viii. Stroph. -/. and also the odes of Horace which Dr Warton has pointed out in his Essay on Pope (vol. i. p. 396.) ; viz. Lib. I. Od. xv., Lib. III. Od. iii. ver. 1 J. 37. and Epode v. f As an instance of the structure, as well as spirit of this ode, the following stanza may be quoted : " Beneath the pole, on hills of snow, Like Thraci.m Mars, the undaunted Swede, To dint of sword defies the foe, In fight unknowing to recede. From Volga's banks, the impetuous czar Leads forth his furry troops to war, Fond of the softer southern sky; The soldan galls the Illyrian coast. But soon the miscreant moony host Before the victor-cross shall fly." Clii F.SSAY ON THE POKTUV OF CRAY. In some observations on this point, Mr. Mason infers the superiority of tlie regular lyric stanza, over the irregular ditliyrambic ode, from the com- parative easiness of the latter ; it being in the power of any poet to construct such an ode. " There was nothing," he says,* " that Gray more disliked, than that chain of irregular stanzas which Cowley introduced, and falsely called Pindaric ; and which, from the extreme facility of execution, pro- duced a number of miserable imitators. Had the regular return of strophe, antistrophc, and epode, no other merit than that of extreme difficulty, it ought, on this very account, to be valued ; because we well know, that ' easy writing is no easy reading.' " Voltaire, it is well known, in the pre- face to the CEdipe, has used a similar argument, in saying, " that the dif- ficulty of composing in rhyme in French plays, is a great cause of the plea- sure which we receive in the composition. Tragedy," he says, " would be destroyed if it were in blank verse ; remove the difhcuUy, and you take away the merit. "t In a letter also to Mr. Walpole, he says, " \^ous n'ob- servez, vous autres libres Bretons, ni unite de lieu, ni unite de tems, ni unite d' action. En veritc vous n"cn faites pas mieux. La vraisemblance doit etre comptee pour quelque chose. L'art en devient plus difficile, et le difficultes vaincues donnent en tout genre du plaisir et de la gloire." And in another part of the same letter he adds, " Permettez moi de vous dire encore un mot sur la rime que vous nous reprochez. Presque toutes les pieces de Driden sont rimees. Et jesoutiens encore que Cinna, Atalie, Iphigenie etant rimes, quiconque voudrait secouer ce joug en France, serait regarde comme un artiste foible, qui n' auroit pas la force de le porter. * See Mason's Memoirs of Gray, vol. iii. p.l56. , f This passage from Voltaire is quoted in Dr. Blair's Lectures, vol. iii. p. 316. ESSAY ON THE POETUY OF GUAY. cliii ^' En qualitc de viellard il faut que je vous dire une anecdote. Je de- i»andais un joiw a Pope pourquois Milton n'avoit pas rime son poerae, dans le terns que les autres poetes rimoient leurs pocmes a I'imitation des Italiens; il me repondit — because he could not," Both these opinions may seem to be branched off from the general observation made by Aristotle in his Treatise on Rhetoric,* ro ^uXi'zuTs^ov, f/,e7^oti ayadov, and which to a certain extent seems to be strongly founded upon nature and truth. In regard to Mr. Mason's opinion, he has perhaps laid down his posi- tion in too unlimited a manner ; and placed rather more stress upon the metrical construction of the ode than is due. There are certainly other great difficulties in the composition of the ode, besides the occurrence of the regular metre. It must require nearly the same talents to construct a good ode, either in measure irregular or fixed : nor would inferior talents succeed, though released from the bondage of such restriction. If we receive greater pleasure from the regular ode, which I fully believe, it must be sought for from another cause, in conjunction with that of the ' difficult^ surmontcc :' chiefly from the itnifonnity we associate with our notions of all poetical composition ; from our being accustomed to mea- sures which have regularity and proportion in their parts ; and from the perplexity and confusion arising in our minds, from intricacy and irre- gularity of structure. There is a repugnance which we feel at first to the introduction of any novel form of composition : perhaps there is no young reader of poetry, who does not at first dislike the iise of the triplet in Drydcn, because it is unexpected ; and indeed in all cases, the beauty of it will depend on some nice preparation in the cadence, and on the * See AristotclisRhetorica, lib. i. cap. vii. cil Holwell. Aiul A. Smith's Pliilosophical Essays, 4to. p. Iviii. in the account of his Life, by D. Stewart. VOL. I. U cliv ESSAY ON THE POETRY OF GRAY. skilfiillness of its introduction in the preceding lines. To crvvv^ig, says Aristotle, * Tjiu y^oiXXoy too atrvvn^ovg. And in a problem he has on this subject, he says, Aj$iov dxovovcriv ciiovTuv, oara oiv v^oe'Tritrruf^ivoi Tij^u(n raiv fJi,iKav, ^ iav fx^ri ixiffruvrui. '^rore^ov on fji,oiXXov OfjXog io-riv o rvy- ^dtuv, altrTTi^ (TKOTOV, orav yvu^l^axri to a.iofJt,ivov. yvu^f^ovrm ie> riou ^m^ilv rj oTi (Ty^Ta^^j ecTii' o ccKpouTtig, tco to yvai^ifJLOv uoovti. The assertion of Voltaire is of less force, because it is not known, that such a thing can exist, as a Fiench tragedy in blank verse. Rhyme, and the inversion of the words, are the constituents of tiieir verse. It is laid down as a rule by the best writers, that no word should be used in French poetry, that may not with equal propriety be used in prose : and blank verse could not be formed in a language, whose verse invariably demands a pause in the middle of each line, and has a regular accent on the sixth foot before the pause. Before it can be proved that blank verse can be successfully written in French, | it must be shown, that this pause and accent can be removed and altered. Independently of that, I may be permitted to doubt whether Voltaire has not overrated (for the sake of the argument) the difficulty of rhyming: though, perhaps, it exists in the French language more than in others. We know, however, that an Englishman has translated the whole of the long poem of Hudibras into « Vid. Problemata 9. e. p. 763, and 768. ed. Duval : and Probl. 9— a. p. 768. \ M. de la Motte says, that it is impossible to write a poem of any considerable length in French, whicli sliall not weary the reader by the perpetual uniformity of its sounds. Does not this partly account for almost all the Didactic Poems by French authors, being written in Latin verse ? ESSAY OK THE POETRV OF GRAT. clv French verses of four feet, with admirable success,* where one would suppose the difficulty of finding rhymes would be absolutely insuperable : and when even this poem, with its short lines and strange phraseology, has been excellently versified ; shall we lay such great stress upon the difficulty of finding rhymes in the plays of Racine, Corneille, or other authors. I am not sure also, whether the rule of ' la difficulte surmonte,' though it has a certain force in the versification of the French drama, where so much art of various kind is displayed, may not act with less power in that species of English poetry, which has always relied more on its fertility of invention, and richness and sublimity of imagination, than on its precise conformity to the exact rules of criticism. Upon the whole, it appears to me, that the superior pleasure which we receive from the regular lyric ode,1" arises from two causes. First, from * I allude to that extraordinary work, < Hudibras, Poeme ecrit dans le Tems des Troubles d'Angleterre, et traduit en vers Francois,' Londres, 1757, by Mr. Townley, an officer in the Irish brigade, and Knight of the Order of St. Louis. He died in 1782, aged 85. t 'The odes in blank verse, by Milton, Collins, and T. Warton, have less singularity in their numbers, than is generally supposed. They consist of two common Heroic, or five- footed verses, with an Alexandrine, or six-footed. The last divided into two portions, as every Alexandrine is, by the pause, at the end of the third foot. Milton admits an Alexan- drine into his Par. Lost, ix. ver. 24'9 ; which, together with the tw9 preceding lines, forms the metre, of these blank-verse odes. " Assist us — But if much converse perhaps Thee satiate, to short absence I would yield, For solitude sometimes Is best society." P. Lost, ix. 249. ^ oung has admitted the Alexandrine into his Night Thoughts: " The wisdom of the wise, and prancings of the great." U 2 clvi ESSAY ON THE POETRY OF GRAY. the satisfaction which is derived from the harmony and proportion of its parts ; from its connected variety, and corresponding relation in itself. This is entirely lost in the irregular ode ; because there is no room to institute that comparison, in which we delight so much, when we con- template all works of art and design. Secondly, we pai'ticipate in the pleasure that attends any difficult or laborious work overcome and sub- dued by our skill. Although, in the long heroic verse, I think rhyme is little source of difficulty ; yet it indisputably is, when added to the short lyric stanza. Now if a poem can be so constructed as to present these difficulties of such a nature that they are evidently not insuperable to genius and skill, its merit wUl no doubt be enhanced by the conquest which it has made. But if the difficulties are such, as cannot be over- come, but only avoided by awkwardness of language, ungracefulness of idiom, and obscurity of sense, then they must give way to metre of an easier construction. The cost of the labour would manifestly be far greater than the gain : and the taste that delights to sport in such perverse misapplications of ingenuity, must be regarded as corrupt. Such, for instance, would be the case, if in the common lyric stanza, we should be forced to begin each line with a certain letter, or to make it an acros- tic; and to end every line with a double rhyme. It would then become merely an exercise of ingenuity, and not a work of genius : and this is the plain and broad distinction, that the younger Racine did not see, when he calls this argument a paradox, and says, that instead of admiring we despise " ces vers techniques, cnfans du mauvais goiit, les Ropha- Cowpcr also, in the 2il book of his Task : " Storms rise to overwhelm them, or if stormy winds." I perceive that it is also authorised by Mr. Southey in his Madoc. It is to be found in Spen- ser, in the 2d line of the stanza, iii. 41 : " He bound that piteous ladye prisoner, now releast." ESSAY ON THE POETRY OF GRAY. civii liques, Retrogrades, Leonins, Num^raux, Soladiques, Acrostiches, &c." • It is true that we should despise them, if they were attempted to be dis- played as works of genius ; or if they selected subjects above their na- ture ; or if they mixed themselves with the ode, or the epic or tragic poem : and besides this, their example proves only the excess or abuse of the doctrine, which of course is no argument against its confined and legitimate use. This construction then of the ode, t by strophe and epode, or by some other regular return of certain metres at stated intervals, appears to me to be founded upon natural principles, which are not likely to be ex- tinguished : and may I not also add, that it is authorized by the best examples in all countries. Nor do I find, that it is proved by those who are of a contrary opinion, that it has excluded any beauties which might have been introduced into looser compositions. Indeed, it is more likely to produce the contrary effect. The same principle holds good in all other arts: and, as Sir Joshua Reynolds says.t " If difficulties overcome. * See Reflexions sur la Poiisie, par M. L. Racine, p. 105. f In favour of the Regular Ode ; the strongly-marked design, may be urged, as ouc source of beauty. But the exact degree of regularity will probably remain a subject of dispute; as few agree, on that combination of uniformity, and variety; design, and propor- tion, which should appear in any work of art. 1 consider, the variety of measures used in the Odes of Horace, as so many attempts to gratify the public mind in its love of change, and weariness of uniformity. Some of these were probably successful ; others, like the 12th ode of the 3d book — " Miserarum est nequc Amori dare ludum, neque dulci" — perhaps unsuccessful, or not adopted into general use. And thus among the vast variety and change of measures used by our old Englisli poets, as may bo seen by turning over the pages of 'England's Helicon,' and otiicr books; how few have been approved by time, and descended into common and constant use : and those few, of plain, simple, and marked construction. See Gray's Observ. on English Metre, ed. Mathlas, vol. ii. p. 29. I See Sir J. Reynolds' Discourses, ed. Malone, vol. i. p. 287. Clviii ESSAY ON THE I'OtTKV Of GUAY. make a great part of the merit of art ; difficulties evaded can deserve but little commendation." In the elegance as well as magnificence of his diction, in the force and energy of his style, in the sublimity of the images, and in the boldness of the metaphorical language, Gray's poem resembles the productions of the Theban bard. In two circumstances, however, there exists a pro- minent difference between them. The odes of Pindar are distinguished for the frequency of the moral sentiments which he draws from his sub- ject, in the shape of short and proverbial sayings ; and which he delivers in a kind of axiomatical form. It is not necessary to say how distinct this is, from that species of moral pathos which I mentioned before as existing in the poetry of Gray. The ancient bard never seems to miss any opportunity afforded by his subject, of extracting some ethical pre- cept from it ; something in praise of the bounty of kings, of piety to the gods, or of justice to men. Lord Bacon has not missed the notice of this peculiarity. — " Animos hominum, [Pindarus^ sententiola aliqua mi- rabili, veluti virgula divina percutit." This arose partly from the nature of the Grecian ode, which was considered as a composition of a religious nature, and which was framed in honour of gods and heroes, and whose duty it was to recommend piety and praise ; * 'A^avdrovs fi-iv r^-jHra, fiiouf, yo'/xw tvs Staxeiyrai Tlijia, — lir£i9"Howa; dyavov;. Pythagor. Aur. Carm. and partly from the natural disposition of the poet's mind, which loved * T^f MovriKrjs tv rois lejols dvairr^eipoiieri}; h oJs niLr.v re rou Seiou, Std, ray'ri;; liroioCvro, xa) rtuv dya^uiv dvSqwv sTtaivov;. Plutarch, de Musica, p. 663, ed. Wyttenbach. " All the ideas (as Gray says in his notes to the republic of Plato) the Greeks had of the gods were borrowed from the poets." ESSAY ON THE POETRY OF GRAY. clix to indulge in a kind of severe or pensive morality, changing at times into enthusiastic animation, loftiness of sentiment, or beauty of description. We find these same features displayed in the choral odes of the Greek tragedy : and from a want of judgment in the imitation of the Greek tragedians, the plays that pass under the name of Seneca, are a heap of declamatory sentiments and moral aphorisms. As Horace, in his imita- tion of Pindar, often followed his example in the loose and defective con- nexions of the subject; so he by no means neglected to copy this pe- culiarity in his great predecessor. Though much of this moral reflection the poets undoubtedly borrowed from the Schools* of Philosophy ; yet it is also to be observed, that in the early poetry of most nations, before it has ceased to be the direct means of information as well as of pleasure, this sententiousness naturally takes place. Heinsius, in his Dissertation on Tragedy, where he is endeavouring to discover by internal evidence, the * Hurt! attributes the frequency of the moral sentences, in the writings of the ancient poets, to tlic influence of the Schools of Philosophy. See his notes on Horace, vol. i. p. 175. " As they had been more or less conversant, in the Academy, would be their relish of this moral mode, as is clearly seen in the case of Euripides, that Philosopher of the Stage, as the Athenians called him ; and who is characterized by Quinctilian as " sententiis dcnsior, et in iis quae a sapientibus tradita sunt, pane ipsis par." Hurdhas well distinguished the peculiar moral character of the chorus, which, he sa3's, " was rather political and po- pular, than legal and philosophic." See his note, vol. i. p. 154'. The most singular instance, in modern times, of a tragic fable being founded on recent events, for a w/ora/ purpose, was that of the tragedy on the Death of Henry IVth, acted at Paris, a few months after that event took place, before his son and successor Louis XHItli, where he is represented as a personage in the drama, made to complain, that study was prejudicial to him, that a book gave him the head-ache, and that a drum was the cure. Du Bos gives a singuU-ir reason why dramas, in which kings and queens are represented, cannot be taken from modern times; because the Sovereign Houses in our days, nre so connected by intermarriage, that it would be impossible to exhibit upon the stage a prince, who had reigned within an iiundrcd years, in any neigh- bouring kingdom, in which the sovereign of the country would not find a relation. Sei- Reflex. Bur la Poijsie, So-, vol. i. chap. I'O. Clx ESSAY ON THE POETRY Of GRAY. time in which the different plays were written, that all pass under the name of Seneca, says, "jam locorum major suppellex in Lucio Seneca; qua? res mire antiqidtatem sapit." Every opportunity is seized to instruct, as well as to please. Poets are not only the first historians, but the first mo- ralists. They not only relate the action, but they unfold its motive, and scrutinize its end. " Fuit hiEC sapientia quondam, Publica privatis secernere, sacra profanis ; Concubitu prohibere vago, dare jura maritis ; Oppida nioliri, leges incidere ligno. Sic honor, et nomen divinis vatibus, atque Carminibus venit " Chaucer introduces many lines of this nature into the humour of his poems ; and he distinguishes his friend and contemporary by the appella- tion of the ' Moral Gower.'* Much of the Gnomic poetry of the Greek writers was composed by the elder poets ; and Quinctilian mentions, that the elder Latin poets abounded with this sententious kind of writing. " Tragediae scriptores, Accius, et Pacuvius, clarissimi gravitate senten- tiarum."! When philosophy and history took the province of instruc- tion ; poetry assumed, as its appropriate and primary purpose, the pro- duction of pleasure. At least, instruction became not a necessary part of the province of poetry, and only used as a means of pleasure,;}; as it • Gower and Chaucer may not unaptly be called the Hesiod and Homer of English poetry. If we take from Hesiod all that does not belong to hira, we should then bring the genius of the two poets nearly on an equality. f See Quinctilian, Inst. Orat. lib. x. cap. 1. And Athenasus, lib.xv. cap. H. X Tlie object of the philosopher is to inform and enlighten mankind : that of the orator, to acquire an ascendant over the will of others, by bending to his own purposes their judgment, their imaginations, and their passions: but the primary and the distinguishing aim of thepof*. ESSAY ON THE POETRY OF GRAY. clxi was conveyed with peculiar attraction ; with harmony of style, and beauty of description. Jn this respect, then, it was judicious in the English poet, when he formed his ode after the Pindaric model, not to follow that peculiarity, the introduction of which depended upon the age in wJiich the Grecian bard lived ; as well as upon his own particular habits of thou ht, and on the genius and disposition of the people among whom he wrote ; and which was not a necessary or constituent part of an ode of that kind. I observe, that the excellent and learned editor of the HeraclidiE of Euripides,* has taken notice of this peculiarity in the Greek drama, in a note which he has written on the speech of Macaria, (ver. 501,) which abounds with moral reflections, suited to the occasion; and which he compares with other speeches of the same nature in the Iphi- genia and Hecuba. " Omnes (he says) locis communibus refertaj sunt, quarum multo paticntiores fuerunt Athenienses quam nostri homines." This observation might very properly be extended beyond the province of the drama : for, indeed, the Athenians were not only patient of this moral instruction, but placed it in a very eminent rank. It was not is to please ; and the principal resource which he possesses for that purpose, is by addressing the imagination. D. Stewart's Elem. of the Philos. of the Human Mind, 8vo, p. 497. On the idea that utiliti/ and instruction are the end of poetry, and not pleasure; the reader is re- ferred to a note in Mr. Twining's Aristotle, p. 561. * So remarkable was Euripides for the frequency and the fullness of his moral sentiments, that it was said Socrates assisted him with reflections and observations, drawn from his know- ledge of liuman nature. Alluding to this, Callias, in the comedy called the IlfJijrai, makes some one say to Euripides, 'H Ji; ro/)Wa/c, by the epithet "dauntless," and how admirable it characterizes the int'unt genius of Shakspearc. elxvl ESSAY ON THE PCETRY OF CRAY. And wake the purple year ! The Attic uiarbler pours her I hroal," &c. • The propriety and beauty of the expressions in these lines depend upon the reference which we make to the ancient authors who have used them. To tlie mere English writer, some must appear inapplicable, as '■'■purple year;" and others unintelligible, as " Attic warbler." The whole of the stanza has, indeed, quite the air of a Grecian hymn or ode: and might have been sung with propriety by an ancient poet, who was beholding an Athenian landscape brightening in the spring. Considered as a mere piece of English scenery, I think some of the imag'js not peculiarly ap- propriate. Shoidd we not select different parts of the day, and different scenery, for the songs of the cuckoo and the nightingale, instc:id of bring- ing tliem together, and making them " responsive ?" The first delights us when it is heard from some distant trees, suddenly breaking through the stillness of the summer noon : the latter, when pouring from a neigh- bouring thicket its fine and full tones of melody at the close of the even- ing, in the spring.* But not to dwell on this trivial objection ; perhaps * How completely lias Goldsmith in the ' Deserted Village,' where he mentions the song of the Nightingale, broken the unity of the image, and destroyed the proper emotion that would have arisen from it, by a number of discordant, and opposite circumstances, that be- longed to another part of the scenery, and an earlier period of the day: " 1 he noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, The playful children just let loose from school, The watch-dog's voice that bay'd the whisp'ring wind, And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind. These all in sweet confusion sought the shade, AndfU'd each pause, the Nightingale had made." These lines, I should think, were written when the poet lived, " — Ad veleres Arcus, madidamque Capenara " — ESSAY ON THE POETRY OF GRAY. clxvii the allusions to the ancient mythology with which the poem opens, might have been kept in view throughout ; instead of being almost en- tirely confined to the commencement ; and, on the whole, I have always thought tlicre was a little defect in the change of scenery and expression which takes place in this ode at the close of the first stanza. The charm, indeed, which is produced by the occasional insertion of a classical image, or an allusion to the mythology of the ancients ; the associations which it brings with it, and the interesting picture which it creates in the mind, is too evident to require any proof When, for instance, in the Hymn ta Adversity, we meet with that fine invocation : " Oh ! gently on tliy suppliant's head, Dread goddess, lay thy chast'ning hand ! Not in thy Gorgon terrors clad. Not circled with the vengeful band" — •what single epithet, what attribute could the poet have given to Terror, which could have produced an effect equal to that of this image ? Do we not immediately behold the figure of the goddess ; " Ilorrentem colubris, vultuquc tremendam, Gorgoneo ;" — and do we not reflect upon a period, when this image was not considered merely as part of an elegant fable, or as an ingenious personification ; but when it brought with it the impression of its real presence, which was felt ; and of its supernatural power, which was revered? When an allusion, and not an imitation, is intended to be pointed out, it is not always of consequence from what author, or what particular passage, the resemblance is drawn ; and therefore it cannot be objected, that the owe allusion which I have marked, is needless ; because many others equally Clwiii ESSAY ON THE POETRY OF OKAY. obvious could be brought from various quarters. An hnitation perhap- must be confined to one or two passages j but an allusion may be illustrateil by many. It surely forms also a pleasing branch of criticism, to trace co- incidences of thought between writers of genius ; to see what particular taste has added to general expression ; and to observe, how a graceful idiom, or a noble image, has bee« altered or enlarged by each succeeding poet ; what new and unexpected lights have been cast by the fancy of one author, on the suggestions of another ; and how a thought, by gradual expansion, or sudden addition, is at length perfected. We may thus per- ceive from what slender associations, from what faint images and occa- sional turns of expression, a train of thought may shoot across the mind of the poet, and opening and enlarging itself, and gaining accessions of strength from all which the genius and learning of the mind can supply, at length appear with a lustre and beauty that never belonged to it in its early state, and under its original possessor. In this manner we may form a correct notion how fine the fruit of native genius will be, when it is assisted by the wisdom of others: and when the poet, while indulging in a patient and liberal enquiry into the opinions of the enlightened, still preserves a consciousness of his own independence of thought, and of his native and original strength. — " Poetry (says Milton) is the art of expert judgment, and the final work of a head filled by long reading and observing, with elegant maxims and copious invention." It will hardly be necessary, after what I have said, to take notice of the opinions of those, who think the fame of the poet lessened as the imitations, coincidences, or allusions are pointed out, and that his original genius will be depreciated by exhibiting the quantity of his acquired materials. It may be asked, however, if the reputation of Shakspeare or Milton has been at all diminished by what has been selected to illustrate them, by the industry of their commentators. I remember when an opinion of this liSSAY ON TUK POETIIV 01- GRAY. cixix ilature was once urged against jNIilton ; and vvlien it was asserted that the chief part of the materials which he used in his Paradise Lost, belonged to other poets; the late Professor Porson, who was present, strenuously re- pelled the justice of the accusation ; and, repeating the noble exordium of the third book, a passage which is at once pathetic and sublime in the highest degree, he asked to whom Milton was indebted for this fine example of the most perfect poetry. As far as my opinion is concerned, I must say that the original genius of Gray appears to me to be of the very highest order: and that the combination of his images, and the application of theni to his subject, is at once the result of the profoundcst thought, the finest taste, and the most creative imagination. A person, however, who still en- tertains sentiments of this kind, will do well, before he decides* too po- sitively on the want of originality in this, or that writer, to read what Sir Joshua Reynolds has so sensibly written on this subject witli regard to painting ; and especially where he treats of the imitations of llaphael. I shall here content myself with transcribing one short passage from one of his Discourses.* " It is indisputably evident (he says) that a great part of every man's life must be employed in collecting materials for the exer- cise of genius. Invention, strictly speaking, is little more than a new combination of those images which have been previously gathered and deposited in the memory. Nothing can come of nothing. He who has laid up no materials, can produce no combinations. The more extensive therefore your acquaintance with the works of those who have excelled, the more extensive will be your powers of invention ; and, what may appear still more a paradox, the more original will be your conception." • Sec Sir J. Reynolds's Discourses, vol. i. p. 2S, ed. Malonc. If any apology should be ne- cessary for quoting so often the discourses of a painter, to illustrate the sister-art of potiri/, I !- - - - 243 ODES. ODE I. ON THE SPRING. The original manuscript title given by Gray to this Ode, was « Noontide.' It appeared for the first time in Dodsley's Collection, vol. ii. p. 271, under the title of ' Ode." Lo ! wliere the rosy-bosoni'd Hours, Fair Venus' train, appear. Disclose the long-expecting flowers, And wake the purple year ! NOTES. Ver. 1. Lo ! w/iere the rosy-bosom'd Hours} " The Graces, and the rosy -bosom' d Hours." Milton's Comus, ver. 984. W. Ver. 2. Fair f'enus' train, appear] So Homer in the Hymnus ad Venerem, ii. 5 : AifavT dtntctartajs *efl S' ajj-^pra. etfuxra. strcrav. The Hours also are joined with Feii'ts in the Hymnus ad Apollineni, ver 194. And Hesiod places tliom in her train : 'Ilfai KnXXiKOjioi (rrequales L^bitur agros." Ver. fig. Meander's amber rcavef] " Tliere Susa by Choaspes, amber strffim," Par. Reg. iii. 288. " Rolls o'er Elysiaii flow'rs her amher stream," Par. Lost, iii. 559. Cal- limuelii Cer. 29 : ro i", cuffr tihixr^iyw, uSuip ij oiu,a.^iv dni'lvi. W. To which adil Eiuipid. Hippolyt. ver. 741. " Electro purior resplendebat amnis," Mar- tian. Capella, c. viii. I . ed. Goez. Ver. 71. How do your tuiuful echoes languish] In the Quarterly Review for July, 1814, No. ,\xii. |). .'»14, souie lines are quoted from Addison's letter from Italy, containing an idea similar to these ot CJray : " Puelie fields encompass me around, " Stc. Ver. 80. jind conard Vice, that revelt iu Iwr ihaiits] " Servitude tliat hugs lier chain," Ode on the Install. V. W. 40 When Latiuin had her lofty spirit lost. They sought, oh Albion ! next thy sea-encircled coast. III. 1. Far from the sun and summer-gale, In thy green lap was Nature's Darling laid, What time, where lucid Avon stray'd. 85 To him the mighty mother did unveil Her awful face: the dauntless child Stretch'd forth his little arms and smil'd. NOTES. Ver. 84. In thy green lap was Nature's Darling laid] " Nature's darling." Shakspcarc. Gkay. — This expression occurs in Cleveland's Poems, p. 314. " Here lies within this stony shade, N^ature's darling ; whom she made Her fairest model, her brief story, In him heaping all her glory." " The flowery May, who from her green lap throws Tlie yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose," Milton's Son. ou May Morn. Shaksp. Gray. Ver. 86. To him the mighty mother did unveil] " Tlie might 1/ mother, and he;- son who brings The Smithfield muses to the ear of kings." Pope's Dunciad, i. 1. " A cloud of fogs dilates her awful face." Id. i. 262. W. See also Virg. Georg. i. by Dryden : , " On the green turf ihy careless limbs display, And celebrate the mighty mother's day." Ver. 87 The dauntless child StretcKd forth his little arms and smil'd] Mr. Wakefield refers to Virg. Eclog. iv. 60 : " Incipe, parve puer, risu cognoscere matrem." And Berdmore, in his Literary Resemblances, p. 40, to the description of the infant Hercules in Theocritus, Idyll, xxiv. 55. But the truth is, that the two lines in Gray are almost exactly the same as two in Sandys's Ovid, p. 78. ed. ISmo. (see Metam. iv. 515.^ 41 " This pencil take (she said), whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year: 90 Thine too these golden keys, immortal Boy ! This can unlock the gates of joy ; Of horror that, and thrilling fears, Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears," III. 2. Nor second He, that rode sublime 95 Upon the seraph-wings of Extasy, The secrets of th' abyss to spy, He pass'd the flaming bounds of place and time : VARIATIONS. Ver. 93. Horror'} Terror, ms. NOTES. " the child Stretch' d forth its little arms, and on him smiFd." Ver. 9I- Thine too these golden keys, immortal Bot/] " Yet some there be, that with due steps aspire To lay their lianrls upon that golden hey That opes tlie palace of eternity." Milton's Comus, 1 3. W. This passage of Milton is from Fletcher's Purpl. Isl. vii. 62 : " Not in his lips, but hands, trro kei/s he bore, Heaven's doors and hell's to shut, and open wide." Ver. 95. "Sor second He, that rode sublime'] Milton. Gray. Ver. 97. The secrets of th' abyss to spy] This alludes to Milton's own picture of him- self: " Up led by thee Into the Heaven of Heavens, I have presumed An earthly guest, and drawn empyreal air." Par. L. vii. 12. Ver. 98. He pass'd thejiaming bounds nf place and time] " Flanimantla moenia niundi," Lucret. i. 74. Gray.— See also Stat. Silv. iv. 3. 15G: " Ultra sidera, flammeumque so- lem." And Cicero de Tinibus, ii. 31. Hor. Epist. I. xiv. 9. VOL. I. O 42 The living throne, the sapliirc blaze, Where angels tremble while they gaze, 100 He saw ; but, blasted with excess of light, Clos'd his eyes in endless night. Behold, where Dryden's less presumptuous car. Wide o'er the fields of glory bear NOTES. Ver. 99. The living throne, the saphire blaze'] "For the spirit of the living creature was in the wheels. And above the firmament that was over their heads, was the likeness of a throne, as the appearance of a sapphire stone. This was the appearance of the glory of the Lord," Ezek. i. 20, 2fi, 28. Gray. — "Ay sang before the saphir-color'd throne," Poem at a solemn Music (Milton), ver. 7. " Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne, The cherub Contemplation." 11 Pens. ver. 53. " Whereon a sapphire throne inlaid, with pure Amber, and colours of the showery arch." Par. Lost. vi. 753. " He on the wings of cherub rode sublime. On the crystalline sky, in sapphire thrond." Ibid. ver. 77 !• Ver. 102. Clos'd his eyes in endless night] '0jhls that breathe, and words that Lmrn." P. 507. THE BARD. A PINDARIC ODE. This Ode is founded on a tradition current in Wales, that Edward the First, wlien he com- pleted the conquest of that country, ordered all the Bards that fell into his hands to be put to death. Gray. I. 1. " Ruin seize thee, ruthless King!* Confusion on thy banners wait ; Tho' fann'd by Conquest's crimson wing, They mock the air with idle state. Helm, nor hauberk's twisted mail, Nor e'en thy virtues. Tyrant, shall avail NOTES. ♦ It is the opening of this poem, that tlic Ode by Soame Jenyns, on a * Giant run mad with disappointment in Love and Ambition," is meant to ridicule. See his Poems, p. 118. Park's ed. Ver. S. Tho'fami'd by Conquest's crimson uing] " Wiiere the Norweyan banners flout the sky. And f(in our people cold.' Macbeth, act i. so. 2. Ver. 4. They mock the air with idle state'] " Mocking the air with colours idly spread." Shakspcare's King John. Gray. Ver. 5. Helm, nor hauberk's twisted mail'] The hauberk was a texture of steel ringlets, or rings interwoven, forming a coat of mail that sat close to the body, and adapted itself to every motion. Gray. 47 To save thy secret soul from nightly fear?, From Cambria's curse, from Cambria's tears !" Such were the sounds that o'er the crested pride Of the first Edward scatter'd wild dismay, 10 As down the steep of Suowdon's shaggy side He wound with toilsome march his long array. Stout Glo'ster stood aghast in speechless trance : " To arms!" cried Mortimer, and couch'd his quiv'ring lance. NOTES. " Hawberks and helms are hew'd witli many a wound," Dryden's Palamon and Arcite, lib. iil. ver. 1879. Fairfax, in his Translation of Tasso, has joined these words in many places : As canto vii. 33 : " Now at his helm, now at his hau'herk bright." See also p. lyS, 199, 299, of the folio edition of IG'24. Ver. y. lyiiit o'er the crested pride'\ " The crested adder's pride." Dryden's Indian Queen. Gray. Ver. 1 1. Of Snoicdons shaggy s'rde'] Snowdon was a name given by the Saxons to that mountainous tract which the Welsh themselves call Craigian-eryri : it included all the hi"h- lands of Caernarvonshire and Merionethshire, as far east as the river Conway. R. Hy"'- (len, speaking of tiie castle of Conway, built by King Edward the First, says, " Ad ortum anniis Conway ad clivum niontis Erery ;" and Matlliew of Westminster, (ad ann. 1'283) " A pud Aberconway ad pedes montis Snowdonia; fecit erigi castrum forte." Gray. The epithet " sliaggy," applied to " Snowdon's side," is iiigiily appropriate, as Leland says that great woods clothed the different parts of the moimtain in his time : see Itin. v. 45. Dyer, in his lluins of Rome, p. 137 : " as Britannia's oaks On >rcrhn's mount, or Snoudon's rugged sides, Stand in tlie ciuuds." Ver. 13. Stout Glo'ster] Gilbert de Clare, surnamed the Red, earl of Gloucest«sr and Hertford, son-in-law to King Edward. (iiiAY. Ver. 14. " To (inns!" cried Mortimer'] Edmond de Mortimer, Lord of Wig- more. Gray. They both were Lord Marchers, whose lands lay on the borders of Wales, and jirobably accompanied the king in this expedition. Gray. 48 I. 2. On a rock, whose haughty brow 15 Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood, Robed in the sable garb of woe, With haggard eyes the poet stood ; (Loose his beard, and hoary hair Streaiii'd, like a meteor, to the troubled air) 20 And with a master's hand, and prophet's fire, Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre. NOTES. Ver. 15. On a lock, whose /taiiglttj/ biozcl . So Homer, II. T. ver. 1,'jl : 'Er' 6p^vMxo\uivr,s. And Mosch. IH. ii. 48 : 'Ett' of f^5f afyfaAoTo. Ap. Rhod.i. ver. 178. St. Luke, iv. 29 And Virg. Georg. i. 108 . " Ecce supercilio clivosi tramitis." W. Ver. 17. Robed in the sable garb of zci:e] " Perpetuo marore, et nigra teste senes- cant," Juvenal. Sat. x. 243. W. Also Propertius, Eleg. IV. vii. 28: " At ram quis la- crimis incaluisse togam." , Ver. 19- Loose liis beard, and hoary hair] The image was taken from a well-known picture of Raphael, representing the Supreme Being in the vision of Ezekiel. There are two of these paintings, both believed to be originals, one at Florence, the other iu the Duke of Orleans' collection at Paris. Gray. Ver. 20. Stream d, like a meteor, to the troubled air"] " Slione like a meteor streaming to the wind." Par. Lost, i. ver. 535. W. " Her fair yellow locks behind her flew. Loosely disperst with puff of every blast ; All as a blazins. >^lar doth far outcast His hairy beams and flaming locks disperst." Spenser. The comparison of hair to a meteor, or comet, is not uncommon in poetry. See Hudi- bras, Pt. I. cant. i. ver. 247 : " His tawny beard was th' equal grace Both of his wisdom and his face. This hairy meteor did denounce The fall of sceptres, and of crowns." 49 " Hark, how each giant-oak, and desert-cave, Sighs to the torrent's awful voice beneath ! O'er thee, oh King! their hundred arms they wave, 25 Revenge on thee in hoarser murmurs breathe ; Vocal no more, since Cambria's fatal day, To high-born Iloel's harp, or soft Llewellyn's lay. NOTES. Also in his Remains*, p. 135 : " Wliich holy vow he firmly kept : And most devoutly wore A grisli/ meteor on his face." Mr. Todd mentions a passage very similar to the one in the text: " The circumference of his snowy beard like the streaming rays of a meteor appeared," Persian Tales of Ina- tulla, vol. ii. p. 41. This image is often used metaphorically, as Statii Theb. iii. .S32. And see Manilii Astron. i. 8.30. Ford, in his Pcrkin VV'arbeck, p. 25, ed. Weber; " since the beard Of this wUd eomet conjur'd into France." Milton has applied it very beautifully to the long streaks of light that appear near the horizon, at the break of the morning : " Love-darting eyes, and tresses like the morn," Comus, ver. 753. Ver. 27. Vocal no more, since Cambria's fatal day] See some observations on the j)oetical and proper use of " vocal," as used by Gray in this place, in Huntingford's Apolog. for the Monosh. p. 3 1 . Ver. 28. To high-born Hoel's harp f ] Hoel is called high-born, being the son of Owen. * Is there not a curious similarity between a passage in the will of Burke, and one in the mock will of Lord Pembroke in Butler's Remains ? " I desire (says Burke) that 710 monument, beyond a middle-sized tablet, with a small and simple inscription on the church wall, or on the flag-stone, be erected. But I have had in my life-time but too much of noise and compliment." Burke's Will, in Bisset's Life, p. 578. " My xvill is that I have no monumntt, for then I must have epitaphs and verses. But all my lifelong I have had but too much tfthem." Lord I'embroke's Will. Butler's Remains, p. '28L I Hoel's Harp'] This passage is copied by Lovibond, in his Complaint of Cambria: " Rev(.'re thy Cambria's (lowing tongue, Tho' high-born Iloel's lips be dumb; VOL. I. H 50 I. 3. " Cold is Cadwallo's tongue. That hush'd the stormy main : 30 Brave Urien sleeps upon his craggy bed : Mountains, ye mourn in vain NOTES. Gwjnedd, prince of North Wales, by Finnog an Irisli damsel. He was one of his father's generals in his war.i against tiiu English, Flemings, and Normans, in South Wales ; and was a famous bard, as his poems that are extant, testify. See Evans's Specimens, p. C6, 4to. ; and Jones's Relics, vol. ii. p. 36, who says that he wrote eight pieces, five of which are translated by him in his interesting publication. The whole are given in Mr. Owen's trans- lation in Mr. Southey's Madoc, vol. ii. p. 162 : and his ' Lay of Love' sounds sweetly in the numbers of the latter bard. See Madoc, xiv. 136. Ver. 28. Soft LlewelJyn's lay] In a Poem to Llewellyn, by Einion the son of Guigan, a similar epithet is given to him (p. '22): " Llewellyn is a tender-hearted prince." And in another Poem to him, by Llywarch Brydydd y Mocli (p. 32) : " Llewellyn, though in battle he killed with fury, though he burnt like an outrageous fire, yet was a mild prince when the mead horns were distributed." Also in an Ode to him by Llygard Gwr (p. 39), he is called " Llewellyn the mild, and prosperous governor of Gwynedd." Llewellyn's ' soft Lay' is given by Jones in his Relics, vol. ii. p. (i4. Ver. 29- Cold is Cadwallo's tongue'] Cadwallo and Urien are mentioned by Dr. Evans in his ' Dissertatio de Bardis,' p. 78, among those bards of whom no works remain. Mo- dred is, I suppose, the famous " Myrddin ab ATorvryn,'" called Merlin the Wild; a disciple of Taliessin, and bard to the Lord Gwenddolaw ab Ceidiaw. He fought under King Arthur in 542 at the battle of Camlau, and accidentally slew his own nephew. He was reckoned a truer prophet, than his predecessor the great magician jNIerdhin Ambrose. See a poem of his called the ' Orchard' in Jones's Relics, vol. i. p. 24. I su])|iose Gray altered the name ' euphonije gratia ;' as I can no where find a bard mentioned of the name of ' Modred.' Ver. 30. That hush'd the stormy main] " Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath. That the rude sea grew civil at her song." Mids. N. Dream, act ii. sc. 2. W. Cadwallcr's harp no more is strung, And silence sits on soft Llewellyn's tongue." Chalmers's Poets, vol. xvi. p. 295. 51 Mod red, whose magic song Made huge PHnUmmon bow his cloud-topt head. On dreary Arvon's shore they lie, 35 Smear'd with gore, and ghastly pale : Far, far aloof th' aftrightcd ravens sail ; The faniish'd eagle screams, and passes by. Dear lost companions of my tuneful art, « Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes, 40 NOTES. VtT. 34. Made huge PHiiUmmoii how his cloud-topt head] " Cloud-capt towers," Tempest, act iv. sc. i. W. — Drayton has used tliis image very poetically in his Poly-Olbion, vol. iii. p. 1 ia6, in the speech of Skedow : " But from my glorious iieight into its depth I pry, Great hills far under me, but as my pages lie; And when my he/i/i of clouds upon my head I take." So in the tragedy of Nero, 1024, p. 27 : " Hebrus stood still, Pangtea bow' d his head." Ver. 35. On dretiri/ /Irion's shore they lie] The shores of Caernarvonshire opposite to the isle of Anglesey. Gkay. Ver. 36. Smear'd ziith gore, and ghastly pale] " Smear'd with gore, a ghastly stream." King of France's Daughter : Percy's Reliques, iii. l64. Ver. 37- Fur, far aloof I h' affrighted ravens s«/7] This image may be found in Lucret. vi. ver. 1213. Oviil Meiam. vii. 550. Lucan. vi. ver. 023. Statii Theb. i. ver. 624. It is also in Dryden's Palamon and Arcite, ver. 1142: " The fowl that scent afar the borders fly, And shiui the bitter lihist, and wheel about the sky." Ver. SS. Tlieftmish'd eagle screams, and passes by] Camden and others observe, that eagles used annually to build their aerie among the rocks of Snowdon, which from thence (as some think) were named by the Welsh Craigiau-eryri, or the crags of the eagles. At this day (I am told) the highest [joint of Snowdon is culled the Eagle's Nest. That bird IS certainly no stranger to this island, as the Scots, and the people of Cumberland, W'est- moreland, Sec. can testify : it even has built its nest in the peak of Derbyshire. [Sec Wil- loughby's Ornithol. published by Ray.] (Jray. Ver. 40. Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes] " As dear to me as are the ruddy drops That visit my sad heart." Shakspcare's Jul. Cresar, act ii. sc. 2. Gray. II 2 52 Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart, Yc died amidst 3'our dying country's cries — No more I weep. They do not sleep. On yonder chffs, a gricsly band, I see them sit, they hnger yet, 45 Avengers of their native land : With me in dreadful harmony they join, And weave with bloody hands the tissue of thy line. II. 1. " Weave the warp, and weave the woof, The winding-sheet of Edward's race. 50 Give ample room, and verge enough The characters of hell to trace. Mark the year, and mark the night. When Severn shall re-echo with affright NOTES. See Callimach. H. Diaii. v. 211. Theocr. Id. cap. 53. Quint. Siiiyiii. x. 47i. Ca- tullus, xiv. I. Virg. iEn. iv. ;il. Otway, in his Venice Preserved, act v. p. 309, was more ininiediatL-ly in Gray's inind : " Dear as the vital warmth that feeds my life, Dear as these eyes that weep in fondness o'er thee." In Sir P. Sydney's Arcadia, vol. ii. p. 415 : " Oh, mother, said Aniphialus, speak not of doing them hurt, lio more than to mine eyes or my heart, or if I have any tiling more dear than (yes or heart unto me." King Lear, act i. sc. 2 : " Dearer than eye-sight." Ver. 42. Ye died amidst your dying count ri/'s cries] " And greatly falling with a falling state," Pope. " And couldst not fall, but with thy country's fate," Dryden. VV. Ver. 44. On yonder cliff's, a griesly hand] I have thought this inmge was shadowed by the poet from the following passage of Stat. xi. 421. The third line is aiaiost translated: " Ipse quoque Ogygios monstra ad gentilia manes Tartareus rector porta jubet ire reclusa. Montihiis insidunt patriis, tristique corona Infecere diem, et vinci tua crimina gaudent." Ver. 48. And weave with bloody hands the tissue of thy line] Sec the Norwegian ode (the Fatal Sisters) that follows. Gray. 53 The sliricks of death, thro' Berkley's roof that ring, .55 Shrieks of an ag-onizino; kin<2;! She- wolf of France, with unrelenting fanss. That tear'st the bowels of thy mangled mate, From thee be born, who o'er thy country hangs The scourge of heav'n. What terrors round him wait ! 60 Amazement in his van, with tlight combin'd, And sorrow's faded form, and solitude behind. NOTES. Ver. 51. Give ample room and verge enough] " I have a soul that like an ample sliield Can take in all, and verge enough for more." Dryden's Sebastian, act i. sc. 1 . Ver. .5.5. The shrieks of death, thro' Berklei/'s roof that ring] Edward the Second, cruellv butchered in Berkley castle. Gray. — See Drayton's Barons' Wars, v. Ixvii. : " Berkley, whose fair seat hath been famous long, Let thy sad echoes shriek a deadly sound ; To the vast air ; complain his grievous wrong, And keep the blood that issued from his wound." Ver. 5(i. Shrieks of an agonizing king] This line of Gray is almost in the same words as Hume's description, vol. ii. p. 359: "The screatns with which the agonizing king filled the castle." Ver. 57. She- wolf of France] Isabel of France, Edward the Second's adulterous queen. Gray. This expression is from Sliakspcare's Henry VI. part lit. act 1. sc. 4. p. 41 (Steev. cd.): " She-wolf of France, but worse than wolves of France." Latin writers have used the same language. Apuleins, speaking of the sisters of Psyche : " Perfdic lupulcc nefarias insidias comparant." And Ausonius, ed. Tollii, p. 23 : " Et mater est vere liipa." Plutarch in Vita Romuli, c. iv. p. 84. cd. Reiske. AOfnAS yaf ijca'Aotv 'Of AATINOI TmvTi (iri^'tMv rais AyxaiVaf, xal r-JHv yjya.iit.jjv rd; fraifO'Jraf, &c. See also Dionys. Halicaro. Ant. Rom. lib. I. c. l.wxiv. and Constantiu. Manasscs. 'HTif KOuov Tou rujiiaris to xa'XXof iroioufw*!;, AOTf nA xariuvofia'ssro rrj yXuJmj ttj iraTf itu, 'H-oi xard JiaAjxTOv 'E\Ai;nxi» iraipx. y\nnales, ed. Mcursii, p. 404. Ver. 60. The scourge of heav'n] Triumphs of Edward the Third in France. Gray. 54 II. 2. " Mighty victor, niighty lord ! liOw on his funeral couch he hes! No pitying heart, no eye, afford 6& A tear to grace his obsequies. Is the sable warrior fled ? Thy son is gone. He rests among the dead. VARIATIONS. Vcr.63. Victor'] Conqueror, ms. Vcr. Gl. His"] The, MS. Ver. 65. No, no] What, what, ms. NOTES. Ver. 60. What terrors round him zcait] " Circumque atr;e formidinis ora, IriEque, insidia^qiie, Dei coniitatus, aguntur." Viig. Mn. xii. S35. W. Ver. 61. Amazement in his van] Cowley has a couplet with similar imager}, vol. i. p. 254 : " He walks about the perishing nation, Ruin behind him stalks, and empty desolation." And Oldham in his Ode to Home4-, stanz. iii. " Where'er he does his dreadful standard bear, Horror stalks in the van, and slaughter in the roar." Ver. 64. Low on his funeral couch he lies] Death of that king, abandoned by his children, and even robbed in his last moments by his courtiers and his mistress. G k a v. Ver. 65. No pitying heart] The same words, with the same elliptical expression, occur in the Instal. Ode, vi : " Thy liberal heart, thy judging ei/e. The flower unheeded shall descry." On this ellipsis see J ortins Observ. on Spensrr : Tracts, vol. i. p. 91. Ver. 67. Is the sable warrior fled] Edward the Black Prince, dead some time before his father. Gray. " Hence Edward dreadful with his sable shield." Prior's Poems, p. GIO. " The sable-suited prince," T. Warton's Poems, vol. i. p. 20. In Peacham's ' Period of Mourning,' 1613, a similar epithet is given, but from a different reason: 55 The swarm, that in thy noontide beam were born r Gone to salute the rising morn. 70 Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows, While proudly riding o'er the azure realm VARIATIONS. Ver. 69. In thy noontide beam were 6orn2 Hover'd in thy noontide ray, ms. Ver. 70. Morn'} Day, ms. Ver. 71 — 76. Fair laughs, ;. 212: MstSiouiv ^koa-vpola-i fffotraJwao-i. And other examples cited in the note of Newton to the Par. Lost. Ver. S3. Heard ye the din of battle bray] Ruinous wars of York and Lancaster. Gray. Ver. 86. And thro' the kindred squadrons mow their way] " Cognatasque acies," Lu- can. i. 4. W. — And so iu Sidonius Apollin. xv. 28: " Cognatam portans aciem." In Dryden's ' All for Love,' act i. we find an expression similar to the text " Mow them out a passage, And entering where the foremost squadrons yield." Ver. 87. Ye tozcers oj' Julius, Loiidou's lasting shame, JVith many a foul and midnight murder fed] Henry the Sixth, George Duke of Clarence, Edward the Fifth, Richard Duke of York, &c. believed to be murdered secretly in the Tower of London. The oldest part of that structure is vulgarly attributed to Julius Ctesar. Gray. Ver. 89. Revere his consort's faith] Margaret of Anjou, a woman of heroic spirit, who struggled hard to save her husband and her crown. Gray. Ibid. His father's fame] Henry the Fifth. Gray. Ver. 90. And spare the meek usurper's holy head] Henry the Sixth, very near being canonized. The line of Lancaster had no right of inheritance to the crown. Gray. 59 The bristled boar in infant-gore Wallows beneath the thorny shade. Now, brothers, bending o'er th' accursed loom, 95 Stamp we our vengeance deep, and ratify his doom. NOTES. Ver. 91- Above, beloic; the rose of snow'] The white and red roses, devices of York and Lancaster. Gray. " no, Plantagenet, Tis not for fear, but anger — that thy cheeks Blush for pure shame, to counterfeit our roses. Shaksp. Henry VI. part i. act ii. sc. 4. And, " The red rose and the white are on his face, The fatal colours of our striving houses." Henry VI. part iii. act ii. sc. 7. And Dart's Westminster Abbey, 27 : " Till Richmond, most auspicious name, arose, Who hotnul ill one, each fair contending rose." Ver. 93. The bristled boar * in infant-gore'] The silver boar was the badge of Richard the Tliird ; whence he was usually known in his own lime by the name of the Boar. G R .\ Y . " Nor easier fate the bristled boar is lent." See Mirror for Magis. p. 4 1 7. Anon. 62. 69. 80. Again, * The crest, or bearing of a warrior ( says Mr. Scott in his notes to the Lay of the Last Minstrel, p. fj()0), was often used as a " nom de guerre." Thus Ricliard III. acquired his well-known epithet, — ' the Boar of York.' In thu violent satire on Cardinal Wolsey, com- monly but erroneously imputed to Dr. Hull, the Duke of Buckingham is called the Bcaii- 1'ifid Swan ; and the Duke of Norfolk, or Earl of Surrey, the White Lion. And see the Lay of the Last Minstrel, cant. iv. stanz. xxx. " Yet hear, quoth Howard, calmly hear, Nor deem my words, the words of fear; For wlio, in field or foray slack. Saw tlie lilatichc Lion e'er fall back?" And so in Shakspcare's Henry VI. |)iirt ii. act v. sc. 2. Warwick is called the Bear, from \\\% father's badge, old Neville's crest : " The rampant Bear chained to the ragged staff." I 2 60 : III. 1. " Edward, lo! to sudden fate (Weave we the woof. The thread is spun.) Half of thy heart we consecrate, n^he web is wove. The work is done.) 100 Stay, oh stay ! nor thus forlorn Leave nie unbless'd, unpitied, here to mourn : In yon bright track, that fires the western skies, They melt, they vanish from my eyes. VARIATIONS. Ver. 101. Thus2 Here, ms. Ver. 102. Me unbless'd, unpitied, here'] Your despairing Caradoc, MS. Ver. 103. Track"] Clouds, »is. Ver. 104. Melt] Sink, ms. NOTES. *•' At Stouic Stratford being upon my way. The bloodie boi-e my uncle that did aime." Mirror for Magis. p. 740. The Princes are called the roses : " Oh ! noble Edward, from whose royal blood Life to their infant bodies nature drew, T/)!/ roses both are cropt e'en in the bud." And p. 745, with the same allusion : " Why didst thou leave that bore in time t' ensue To spoil those plants that in thy garden grew." See also the Battle of Flodden Field, st. 25.5 ; and Ford's Perkiii Warbeck, act i. sc. 1. p. 12. ed. Weber. Ver. 98. Weave we the woof. The thread is spun] " Yet rather let him live, and twine His woof of daj/es with some thread stolen from mine." Cartwright's Poems, p, 239 Ver. 99. Half of thy heart we consecrate] Eleanor of Castile died a few years after the conquest of Wales. The heroic proof she gave of her affection for her lord is well known. The monuments of his regret and sorrow for the loss of her, are still to be seen at Northampton, Gaddington, Waltham, and other places. Gray. 61 But oh! what solemn scenes on Snowilon's height 10.} Descending slow their glittering skirls unroll ? Visions of glory, spare my aching sight ! Ye unborn ages, crowd not on my soul ! No more our long-lost Arthur we bewail. All hail, ye genuine kings, Britannia's issue, hail ! 110 III. 2. " Girt with many a baron bold Sublime their starry fronts they rear ; VARIATIONS. Ver. 105. Solemn scenes'] Scenes of Heaven, ms. Ver. 106. Glittering'] Golden, ms. Ver. 109, 110. No more our long-lost, &;c.] " From Cambria's thousand liills a thousand strains Triumphant tell aloud, another .4///i;o- reigns," MS. Ver. in, 112. Girt with, Ssc] " Youthful knights, and barons bold With dazzling helm, and horrent spear," ms. NOTES. Ver. 107. Visions of glory, spare m\j aching sig/if"] From Dryden's State of Innocence, act iv. so. 1 : " Their glory shoots upon my aching sight." Ver. 109. No more our long-lost Arthur we bewail] It was the common belief of the Welsh nation, that King Arthur was still alive in Fairyland, and would return again to reign over Britain. Iscauus, in his poem ' De Bello Trojano,' lib. iii.4G'5, says that the Lesbians do not believe in the death of Castor and Pollux, though they have sought tiiem in vain among the Trojans, and on tiie ocean. They sacrifice to thein as gods, and expect their return, as the Britons wait for the arrival of Arthur — " Sic Britonum ridenda fides, et creduius error, Arturum expeclat, expectabittjue pcrenn^." Ver. 110. All-hail, ye genuine kings, Ihitannia's issue, hail] Both Merlin and Ta- licssin had prophesied, that tlie Welsh should regain their sovereignty over this island; which seemed to be accomplished in the house of Tudor. Guay. 62 And ooifrcous danics, and statesmen old In bearded majesty, appear. In the midst a form divine! • 115 Her eye proclaims her of the Briton-line ; Iler lyon-port, her awe-commanding face, Attemper'd sweet to virgin-grace. VARIATIONS. ♦ Ver. 117. Her, her'] A, an, Ms. NOTES. Ver. 111. Girt toith many a hctron hohl'] " Girt witli niiuiy an armed peer/' T. War- ton's Poems, vol. ii. p. 25C. Ver. 112. Sublime llicir starry fronts they rear} So Milton: "His starry front low rooft beneath the skies," Ode on the Passiou, iii. 18. " Sideribus similes oculos," Ovid. Metam. i. 4<)9. "Hen! ubi siderci vultus," Statii Theb. v. 6I3. " Sidereo Ixta supercilio," Claudian. xv. v. 58; and " Sidercos oculos," Maniiius Ast. iv. fj05; and, lastly, " Gli occhi sereni, et\e stellanti ciglin," Petrarca, Son. CLxvii. v. 9. Ver. 1 14. In bearded majesty appear] It has been remarked that there is an inaccuracy in this expression, as the Hard, whose own beard is compared to a meteor, would not be struck with the dignity of the short enrlcd beards of Elizabeth's days. See Gentleman's Magazine. Selections from vol. ii. p. G37. Ver. IIG. Her eye proelalnis her of the Briton-line] So Peacham, in his ' Period of Mourning,' p. if), speaking of Elizabeth: " Where when I saw that brow, that cheeke, that eye Hee left imprinted in EHza^sfaee." Mr, Wakefield quotes a stanza from Spenser's Hobbinol's Dittie, in praise of Eliza : " Tell me, have ye scene her angclikejace, Like Phoebe fayre ? Her heavenly haveour, her princely grace Can you well compare ? The redde rose medled, with the whiie y fere In either cheek dej)eincten lively chere, Her modest eye, Her maje^lyc. When have you scene the like but there r" 63 What strings s3-niphonious tremble in the air, Wluit strains of vocal transport round her play ! 120 Hear from the grave, great Taliessin, hear ; They breathe a soul to animate thy cla}'. Bright Rapture calls, and soaring as she sings, Waves in the eye of hcav'n her many-colour'd wings. NOTES. England's Helicon, p. 1^: and Spenser's Poems, by Todd, i. (i4: and the note of T. Warton. Ver. 117. Her li/ijii-port, her azi'e-commandingjace] Speed, relating an audience given by Queen Elizabttli to Paul Uzialinski, ambassador of Poland, says, " And tiius she, lion-like rising, duiinlcil the malapert orator no less witli her stately port and majestical deporturc, than with the tartnesse of her priiicclie checkes." Gray. Ver. I'il. Ilettr fruiu the ^rave, great Taliessin, hear'] Taliessin, chief of the bards, flourished in the sixth century. His works are still preserved, and his memory held in high veneration among his counli ymen. G 11 A Y . Sec Kvans's Specimens, p. 18, who says, " Taliessin's poems, on account of their great antiquity, are very obscure." There is a great deal of the Druidical cabala introduced in his works, especially about the transmigration of souls. Evans says that he had fifty of Taliessin's poems; and that many s])urious ones are attributed to him. At p. oG, Evans has translated one of his odes, beginning " Fair Elpliin, cease to weep ;" comforting his friend on his bad success in the salmnu-fishery. Tiiere is a (ullcr account of him in Jones's Relics, vol. i. p. 18, '1\. vol. ii. p. \'l, \[), ill, 34, where many of his poems are translated; and Pennant's Wales, vol. ii. p. 3 Ui ; and particularly Turner's Vindication of the Ancient British Poems, p. e'2,5, C37. Ver. 123. Bright Rapture ealh, and souring us she sings] From Congrcve's Ode fo Lord Godolphin, st. vi.: " And soars with rapture while she sings." Ver. 124. Jl'aves in the eye oj'heav'n her maiii/-it>hiir'd wings] " Interest that waves on parly-eolour'd wings." Pope's Dune. iv. 53b, And, " Colours that change where'er they wave tiieir wings." Rape of the Lock, ii, 68. Mr. Wakefield cites the Tempest, act iv.sc. 1 : " Hail, many-colour'd mcssengtr." 64 III. 3. "The verse adorn again 125 Fierce war, and faithful love, And truth severe, by fair}' fiction drest. In buskin'd measures move Pale grief, and pleasing pain. With horror, tyrant of the throbbing breast. 130 A voice, as of the cherul>choir, Gales from blooming Eden bear ; And distant warljlings lessen on my ear, That lost in long futurity expire. Fond impious man, think'st thou yon sanguine cloud, 135 Rais'd by thy breath, has quench'd the orb of day .'' NOTES. " Her angel's face As the great eye of Heaven sliined bright." Spenser's F. Queen, cant. iii. Ovid. Met. iv. 228 : " Mundi oculus." And Milton's II. Pens. ver. 141 : " Hide me from day's garish eye." Par. Lost, b. v. ver. 171 : " Thou sun of this great world, both eye and soul." Ver. 126. Fierce war, and faithful love] " Fierce wars and faiihful loves shall moralize my song." Spenser's Proenie to the Fairy Queen. Gray. Ver. 127. ^nd truth severe, by fairy Jiction drest"} " With truth severe she temper'd partial praise." T. Warton, vol. i. p. 32. Ver. 128. In buskin'd measures move] Shakspeare. Gray. Ver. 131. ^ voice, as of the cherub -choir] Milton. " And thus a cherub-voice," T. Warton, i. 153, who has also imitated the next line : " Blooming in immortal prime, By gales of Eden ever fann'd." Wart. Poems, ii. 62. Ver. 133. And distant warblings lessen on my ear] The succession of poets after Milton's time. Gray. Ver. 135. Fn7id impious] This apostrophe with its imagery seems taken from Vida : 1 65 To-morrow he repairs the golden flood, And warms the nations with redoubled rav. Enough for me : with joy I see The d iff" rent doom our fates assign. 140 Be thine despair, and scept'red care. To triumph, and to die, are mine." NOTES. " Impie quid furis ? Tene putas posse illustres abscondere coeli Auricomi flanimas, ipsuinqueextingueresolem? Forsitan Immentem nebulani proflare, breveraque Obsessis potcris radiis obtendere uubem. Erumpet lux ; crumpet rutilantilus auris Lampas ; et auriflua face, nubila difteret omnia. Vida; Hymnus D. Andreae Apostolo. v. 99. T. i. p. 335. Mr. Steevens refers to ' Fuimus Troes,' act i. so. 1 : " Think ye the smoky mist Of sun-boil'd seas, can stop the eagle's eye." Vcr. 137. To-morroii' he repairs the go/den flood] " And yet anon repairs his drooping head." Lycidas, I69. " So soon repairs her light, trebling her new born raies." Fletcher's Purple Island, vi. (34. " That never could lie hope his waning to repaire." lb. Stan. 70. Ver. 141. Be thine despair, and scept'red eare] There is a passage in the Thebaid of Statius, iii. 85, similar to this, describing a bard who had survived liis companions : " Sed janj nudavcrat enseni Magnanimus vates, et nunc trucis ora lyranni Nunc fcrruni aspectans, Nun(|uatn tibi sanguinis hujus Juserit, aut niagno feries imperdita Tydeo Pectora. {'ado ef/iiidem e.iultans, ereptatjitefata Inscquor, el comilos feror cxpectatus ad umbras; Te supcris, fratriquc, VOL. I. K 66 He spoke, and headlong from the mountain's height Deep in the roaring tide he plunged to endless night.* NOTES. Compare also the conclusion of the fust Olynip. of Pindar, vcr. 184, which Gray seems to have had in his mind : ETt; fl-i re ■foiitiv 'T'-J'ou x^'^""" "'^'^'^i'^'^i ^M Ts roirirdSs viv.a^if oi; 'OftiXeTy. k. t. X. This similarity has apparently struck the author of the late Translations, as I judge by this language : " Each hath his proper eminence. To kings indulgent Providence (No farther seek the will of Heaven) The glories of the eartli hath given. — Still may'st thou reign ! Enough for me To dwell with heroes like to thee, Myself the chief of Grecian minstrelsy." Reg. Heber's Poems, p. 94. Ver. 143. He spoke, and headlong from the mountain's height'] " Medias praceps tancfertur in undaf," Lucan. ix. 122. * The original argument of this ode, as Islr. Gray had set it down in one of the pages of his common-place book, was as follows : " The army of Edward I., as ihcy march through a deep valley, are suddenly stoj)ped by the appearance of a venerable figure seated on the summit of an inaccessible rock, who, with a voice more than human, reproaches the king with all the misery and desolation which he had brought on his country ; foretells the mis- fortunes of the Norman race, and with pro)>lielic spirit declares, that all his cruelty shall never extinguish the noble ardour of poetic genius in this island ; and that men shall never be wanting to celebrate true virtue and valour in immortal strains, to expose vice and infamous pleasure, and boldly censure tyranny and op))ression. H is song ended, he precipitates himself from the mountain, and is swallowed up by the river that rolls at its foot." " Fine (says Mr. Mason) as the conclusion of this ode is at present, I think it would have been still liner, if he could have executed it according to this plan ; but, unhappily for his purpose, instances of English poets were wanting. Spenser had that enchanting flow of Terse which was peculiarly calculated to celebrate virtue nud valour ; but he chose to cele- 67 brate them, not literally, but in allegory. Sliakspeare, who had talents lor every thing, was undoubtedly capable of exposing vice and iufumoiis plenaure ; and the drama was a proper vehicle for his satire ; but we do not ever find tiiat he professedly made this his object; nay, we know that, in one inimitable character, he has so contrived as to make vices of the worst kind, such as cowardice, drunkenness, dishonesty, and lewdness, not only laughable, but almost amiable; for with all tliese sins on his head, who can help liking Falstaft'? Milton, of all our great poets, was the only one who bold/j/ censured tyranny and oppression : but he chose to deliver this censure, not in poetry, but in prose. Dryden was a mere court parasite to the most infamous of all courts. Pope, with all his laudable detestation of corruption and bribery, was a Tory; and Addison, though a Whig, and a line writer, was unluckily not enough of a poet for his purpose. On these considerations Mr. Gray was necessitated to change his plan towards tiie conclusion : hence we perceive, that in the last epode he praises Spenser on\y for Im allegory, Shakspeare for liis powers of tnoving the passions, and Miltonybr his epic excellence. I remember the ode lay unfinished by him for a year or two on this very account ; and I hardly believe that it would ever have had his last hand, but for the circumstance of his hearing Parry play on the Welsh harp at a concert at Cambridge, (see Letter xxv, sect, iv.) which he often declared inspired Inm with the con- clusion. " Mr. Smith, the nmsical composer and worthy pupil of Mr. Handel, had once an idea of setting this ode, and of having it performed by way of serenata or oratorio. A common friend of his and Mr. Gray's interested himself much in this design, and drew out a clear analysis of the ode, that Mr. Smith might more perfectly understand the poet's meaning. He conversed also with Mr. Gray on the subject, who gave hiui an idea for the overture, and marked also some passages in the ode, in order to ascertain w hich should be recitative, which air, what kind of air, and how accompanied. This design was, however, not executed ; and therefore I shall only (in order to give the reader a taste of Mr. Gray's musical feelings) insert in this place what his sentiments were concerning the overture. ' It should be so contrived as to be a proper introduction to the ode ; it might consist of two movements, the first descriptive of the horror and confusion of battle, the last a n)arch grave and majestic, but expressing the exultation and insolent security of conquest. This movement should be composed entirely of wind instruments, except the kettle-drum heard at intervals. The da capo of it must be suddeidy broke in upon, and |)ut to silence by the clang of the harp in a tumultuous rapid movement, joined with the voice, all at once, and not ushered in by any symphony. The harmony may be strengthened by any otiier stringed instrument; but the harp shoidd i-ver\ w iiere prevail, and form the continued running accompaniment, submitting itself to nothing but tlio voice.' " I cannot (adds Mr. Mason) quit this and the preceding ode, without saying a word or two concerning the obscurity which has Iieen iinjuited to them, and the preference which, in consequence, has been given to his Elegy. It seems as if the persons, who hold this opinion, suppose that every species of poetry ought to be equally clear ami intelligible : tiian which position nothing can be more repugnant to the several specific natures of composi- K 2 68 tion, and to the practice of ancient art. Not to take Pindar and liis odes for an example, (thougli what I am here defending were written professedly in imitation of him,) 1 would ask, are all the writings of Horace, his Epistles, Satires, and Odes, equally perspicuous ? Among his odes, separately considered, are there not remarkable differences of this very kind f Is the spirit and meaning of that which liegins, " Descende ccelo, ct die, age, tibia," Ode iv, lib. 3, so riadily comprehended as " Persicos odi, puer, apparatus," Ode xxxviii. lib. 1. And is the latter a finer piece of lyrical com|)osition on that account ? Is " Integer vitae, scelerisque purus," Ode xxii. lib. I, superior to " Pindarum quisquis studet senuilari," Ode ii. lib. 4; because it may be understood at the first reading, and the latter not without Biuch study and reflection .^ Now between these odes, thus compared, there is surely equal difference in point of perspicuity, as between the Progress of Poesy, and the Prospect of Eton College ; the Ode on the Spring, and the Bard. ' But' say these objectors, ' the end of poetry is universally to please. Obscurity, by taking off from our pleasure, destroys that end.' I will graul that if the obscurity be great, constant, and insurmountable, this is cer- tainly true ; but if it be only found in particular passages, proceeding from tlie nature of the subject and the very genius of the romposition, it does not rob us of our jjleasurr, but superadds a new one, which arises from conquering a difficulty ; and the })leasure which accrues from a difficult passage, when well understood, provided the passage itself be a fine one, is always more permanent than that which we discover at the first glance. The Lyric Muse, like other fine ladies, requires to be courted, and retains her admirers the longer for not having yielded too readily to their solicitations. This argument, ending as it does in a sort of simile, will, I am persuaded, not only have its force with the intelligent readers (the 2TNET0I), but also wi'h the men of fashion : as to critics of a lower class, it may be sufficient to transcribe, for their improvement, an unfinished remark, or rather maxim, which I found amongst our author's papers ; and which he probably wrote on occasion of the common preference given to his Elegy. ' The Gout li/] "And sensible soft Melancholy," Pope's Poem on a certaili Lady at Court, ver. 8. W. Ver. ZG. With solemn steps and slow'] " With wand'ring .steps and sloif," Par. Lost, b. xii. ver. 648. W. — And Pope's Odyssey, b. x. ver. 280. Dunciad, b. iv. ver. 4(J5, as i|uoted by Mr. Todd. Ver. 38. And mitred fat/iers in long order go] " Unde onines longo ordinc possit Adversos iegeic, et vmieiituni discere vultus.'" Virg. JEu. vi. 754. W. Ver. SI). Great Edward, with the lilies on his brow] Edward the Third, who added the fleur de lys of France to the arms of England. He founded Trinity College. But such a liveli/ song, now by this light. Yet never hoardc I sucli nnotltcr note." Mr. Fox has, I think, given no autliority but tliat of Chaucer, for the merry notes of the nightingale; see his Letter to Lord Grey, p 12. Nor do I recollect any other instances in English poetry, than those which I have mentioned. VOL. I. L 74 j\nd sad Chatillon, on her bridal morn That wept her bleeding Love, and princely Clare, And Anjou's heroine, and the paler rose, The rival of her crown and of her woes, And either Henry there, 45 NOTES. " Draw mighty Edward as lie conq'riug stood, The lilies on his shield stain'd red with Gallic blood." Dart's Westm. Abbey, p. 36, So T. Warton, i. 20. ed. Mant : " I see the sable-suited Prince advance, \^'ith lilies crown d, the spoil of bleeding France." And Philips, in ' Cyder,' ii. 592 : " Great Edward thus array 'd, With golden Iris his broad shield emboss'd." Ver. 41. And sad Chatillon, on her bridal mom'] Mary de Valentia, countess of Pem- broke, daughter of Guy de Chatillon, comte de St. Paul in France ; of whom tradition says, that her husband Audemar de Valentia, earl of Pembroke, was slain at a tournament on the day of his nuptials. She was the foundress of Pembroke College or Hall, under the name of Aula Marise de Valentia. Gray. Ver. 42. That wept her bleeding Love, and princeli/ Clare] Elizabeth de Burg, coun- tess of Clare, was wife of John de Burg, son and heir of the earl of Ulster, and daughter of Gilbert de Clare, earl of Gloucester, by Joan of Acres, daughter of Edward the First. Hence the poet gives her the epithet of princely. She founded Clare Hall. Gray. Ver. 43. And Anjou's heroine, and the paler rose] Margaret of Anjou, wife of Henry the Sixth, foundress of Queen's College. The poet has celebrated her conjugal fidelity in 'The Bard,' epode 2d, line l.Sth. Elizabeth Widville, wife of Edward the Fourth, hence called the paler rose, as being of the house of York. She added to the foundation of Margaret of Anjou. Gray. So Whitehead, in his Poems, vol. iii. p. 38 : " Margaret the Anjouvine, of Spain Faire Blanche, and Ellen of Guienne." Ver. 45. And either Henry there] Henry tlie Sixth and Eighth. The former the foimder of King's, the latter the greatest benefactor to Trinity College. Gray. 75 Tlie niurder'd saint, and the majestic lord, Tliat broke the bonds of Rome. (Their tears, their httle triumphs o'er, Their human passions now no more, Save Charity, that glows beyond the tomb.) 50 All that on Granta's fruitful plain Rich streams of regal bounty pour'd, And bad these awful fanes and turrets rise, To hail their Fitzroy's festal morning come ; And thus they speak in soft accord 55 The liquid language of the skies : V. " What is grandeur, what is power? Heavier toil, superior pain. What the bright reward we gain ? The grateful memory of the good. 60 Sweet is the breath of vernal shower, The bee's collected treasures sweet. NOTES. Ver. 49. Their human passions now no more'] " One human tear shall drop, and be forgiven," Pope's Eloisa, 358. W. Ver. 50. Save Charity, that glows liei/oiid the tomb] " Charily never faileth," St. Paul, 1 Corinth, xiii. 8. W. Ver. 56. The liquid language of the skies] " Cui liquidam Pater I'ocem." Hor. Od. I. xxiv. 3. W. And so Lucretius, v. 1378: " Liquidas voces." Calpurn. Eclog. iv. ver. 149. And Ovid. Amor. I. xiii. 8. Ver. (J2. The bees collected treasures sweet] This coraparison \vc find also in Theocr. id. viii. 83: Kfic-o-oc fieWofi-ivio rtu dKOuiftsv,-^ fheKi Xsl^iy- And in Caijiurn. Eclog. iv. ver. 150. TJicse four verses, an Mr. Wakefield remarks, were .suggested by Milton's L 2 76 Sweet music's melting fall, but sweeter yet The still small voice of gratitude." VI. Foremost and leaning from her golden cloud 65 The venerable Marg'ret see ! " AV'elcome, my noble son, (she cries aloud) To this, thy kindred train, and mc : NOTES. Paratiise Lost, b. iv. vcr. 641 : " Sweet is the breath of morn," &c. : but see also Theo- critus Idyll. 5. ver. 33: ours yaj Jirvof, Our' tap E^OLvlva; yXuKSfiuTcfOV, ouTe jj.sAia'crai; 'AvOsa, ocro-ov ffiiv ij-ovTai ?iAai. Ver. 64. The slill small voice of gratitude] " After the fire, a still small voice," I Kings, .\ix. 12. And in a rejected stanza of the Elegy : " Hark how the sacred calm that breathes around Bids every fierce tumultuous passion cease; In still small accents whisp'riug from the ground A grateful earnest of eternal peace." W. Tlie same expression occurs in Dryden : " Now in a still small tone Your dying accents fall." CEdipus, act ii. Again : " Soft as those gentle whispers w-ere In which the Almighty did appear, By the still sound tlie prophet knew him there." Threnod. August, st. ix. " It is the still small voice, That breathes conviction." Walpole's Myst. Mother, act i. sc. ,5. And so also in Green's Ode on Barclay's Apology : " The world can't hear the small still voice." Ver. 66. The venerable Marg'ret see] Countess of Richmond and Derby; the mother of Henry the Seventh, foundress of St. John's and Christ's Colleges. Gray. 1 i i 77 Pleas 'd in thy lineaments we trace A Tudor's fire, a Beaufort's grace. 70 Thy liberal heart, thy judging eye. The flow'r unheeded shall descry, And bid it round heav'n's altars shed The fragrance of its blushing head : Shall raise from earth the latent gem 75 To glitter on the diadem. VII. *' Lo ! Granta waits to lead her blooming band. Not obvious, not obtrusive, she No vulgar praise, no venal incense flings; NOTES. Ver. 70. A Tudor sjlre, a Beaufort's grace] The Countess was a Beaufort, and mar- ried to a Tudor : hence the application of this line to the Duke of Grafton, who claims descent from both these families. Gray. Ver. 7 1 . Thi/ liberal heart, tfii/ judging et/e] " Dryden alone escaped his judging eye" Pope's Prol. to the Sat 24G. Also: " A face untaught to feign, a judging eye." Pope's Epist. to Craggs, p. £89. Ver. 72. Thejlozcr unheeded shall descry] Tiiis allusion to the^oaer and the gem we meet with again in tiie Elegy. Ver. 73. And bid it round heav'n's altars shed] " Delubra, et aras cuilitum," SenecK Agam. V. 3!JQ. " Ctc/oque educitur ara," Sil. Ital. xv. 388. " Araqne Divorum, " Manil. Astr. V. 18. Ver. 78. l^ot obvious, not obtrusive, she] " Not obvious, not obtrusive, but retired," Par. Lost, viii. 504. W. — And so in the ' Fool of Quality,' by Henry Brooke : " The maid who would achieve the wiiole laurel of conquest, must not be obvious or obtrusive" vol. ii. p 275. Ver. 79. No vulgar praise, no venal incense flings] " No hireling she, no jiroslitutc for praise," Pope's lipisl to Lord ONford, vci. 'Mi. VV. 78 Nor dares with courtly tongue refin'd 80 Profane thy inborn royalty of mind: She reveres herself and thee. AVith modest pride to grace thy youthful brow. The laureate wreath, that Cecil wore, she brings. And to thy just, thy gentle hand, 85 Submits the fasces of her sway. While spirits blest above and men below Join with glad voice the loud symphonious lay. VIII. " Thro' the wild waves as they roar, With watchful eye and dauntless mien, 90 Thy steady course of honour keep. Nor fear the rocks, nor seek the shore : NOTES. Ver. 82. She reveres herself and thee'] ITavrcoy Js ix-dXttrr alry-jyei irxurov, Pjthagoraj Aur. ver. 12. W. — And so Galen, ' De Curatione Morb. Ai)imi :' 2a Si a-avrov alSoij (xa- Ver. 83. With modest pride to grace thi/ youthful broKi\ " Yielded with coy submission, modest pride," Par. Lost, iv. SIO. Ver. 84. The /aureate wreath, that Cecilwore, she brings'] Lord Treasurer Burleigh was chancellor of the University in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. Gii ay. Ver. 85. And to thy just, thy gentle hand] Milton's Par. Lost, b. iv. ver. 308, "gentle sway," from Horace, " lenibus imperiis," Epist. I. xviii. 44. W. — But the sentiment, as well as expression, was taken from Drj'den, Threnod. Aui;ust. 284 : " And with a wilting hand restores The fasces of the main." Ver. 88. Join with glad voice the loud symphonious lay] See Milton's Par. Lost, vii. 559. Ver. 89. Thro' the wild wares as they roar] " Well knows to still the wild waves when thei/ roar." Comu.s, ver. 87. W. 79 The Star of Brunswick smiles serene, And gilds the horrors of the deep." NOTES. Ver. 92. Norjear the rocks, nor seek the shore] " Neque altutn Semper urgucndo, neque, dum procellas Cautus horrescis, nimium premendo , Littus iniquum." Hor. Od. II. x. ver. 1. W. ^'er, 93. The Star of Tirnttszcick smiles serene] Pope, iu his Essay on Criticism, has a similarly beautiful image, ver. 615 : " The mighty Stagirite first left the shore. Spread all his sails, and durst the deep explore; He steer'd securely, and discover'd far, Led by the light of the Mczonian star." Young, ia bis ' Universal Passion,' Sat. vii. ver. I69 : " And outwatch every star, for Brunsrcick's sake." THE FATAL SISTERS. AN ODE. FROM THK NORSE TONGUE. To be found in the Orcades of Thormodus Torfsus : Hafniae, 1697, folio; and also in Bartholinus, p. 617. lib. iii. c. 1. 4to. • Fill er orpitfyrir va/J'alli, &,c. Ill the eleventh century Siguid, earl of the Orkney islands, went with a fleet of ships and a considerable body of Iroojis into Ireland, to the assistance of Sictri/g with the silken beard, who was then making war on his father-in-law Brian, king of Dublin : the earl and all his forces were cut to pieces, and Sictri/g was in danger of a total defeat ; but the enemy had a greater loss by the death of Brian their king, who fell in the action. On Christmas day (ihe day of the battle), a native of Caithness in Scotland, of the name of Darrud, saw at a distance a number of persons on horseback riding full speed towards a hill, and seeming to enter into it. Curiosity led him to follow them, till looking through an opening in the rocks, he saw twelve gigantic figures resembling women : they were all employed about a loom ; and as they wove, they sung the followin;^ dreadful song ; which when they had finished, they tore the web into twelve pieces, and (each taking her portion) galloped six to the north, and as many to the south. These were the Valkyriur, female divinitits, servants of Odin (or Wodeii) in the Gothic mythology. Their name signifies Chuscrs of' the slain. They were mounted on swift horses, with drawn sviords in their hands ; and in the throng of battle selected such as were destined to slaughter, and con- ducted them to Valhalla, the hall of Odin, or paradise of the brave ; where they attended the banquet, and served the departed heroes \\ith horns of mead and ,ile. Now the storm begins to lower, (Haste, the loom of hell prepare,) Iron sleet of arrowy shower Hurtles in the darken'd air. 81 ,' : Glitt'ring lanoes are the loom, 5 Where the dusky warp we strain, Weaving many a soldier's doom, Orkney's woe, and Randver's bane. See the griesly texture grow ! ('Tis of human entrails made) 10 And the weights, that play below. Each a gasping warrior's head. Shafts for shuttles, dipt in gore. Shoot the trembling cords along. NOTES. Ver. 3. Iron sleet of arrowij shower'] " How quick they wheel'd, and, ilying, behind lliein shot , , Sharp sleet oj'arrowij s/iozv'i;" Milton's Par. Reg. iii. 324. Gra y. Avianus has a similar expression : " Ansa pharetralh imbrihus ista loqui," Fab. xli. ver. (i." Sic et imbremferreum dixcnni, cum volunt mullitudiiiem significare telorum," Lactantii Epitome, c. xi. Ver. 4. Hurtles in the darketi'd air] " The noise of battle hurtled in the air." Shak»p. Julius Cffsar, act ii. sc. '2. Gray. Ver. 7. Weaving many a soldier s doom] In Thomson's Masque of Alfred, p. 126, the weaving of the enchanted standard is thus described : " 'Tis the saihe Wrought by the sisters of the Danish king. Of furious Ivar, in a midnight liour, While the sick moon, at their enchanted song Wrapt in pale tempest, labour'd thro' the clouds. The deniDiis of deslruction then, (they say,) Were all abroad, and mixing with tlie woof Their baleful power; the Sisters erer sung, ' Shake, standard, shake, this ruin on our foes !'" Ver 1 1. And the teeights, that p/ay below] Dr. Warton, in his Notes on Pope (vol. ii. p. 227), has compared this passage of Gray to some lines in the Thcbais of Statius, i. 720. VOL. I. M 82 Sword, that once a monarch bore, 15 Keep the tissue close and strong. Mista, black terrific maid, Sangrida, and Hilda, see, Join the wayward work to aid : 'Tis the woof of victory. 20 Ere the ruddj' sun be set. Pikes must shiver, javelins sing. Blade with clattering buckler meet. Hauberk crash, and helmet ring. (Weave the crimson web of war) 25 Let us go, and let us fly, Where our friends the conflict share, Where they triumph, where they die. As the paths of fate we tread, Wading thro' th' ensanguined field, 30 Gondula, and Geira, spread O'er the youthful king your shield. VARIATIONS. Ver; 15. Stuord} Blade, MS. Ver. 17. Mista, black'] Sangrida, terrific, ms. Ver. 18. Sangrida and"] Mista black, and, MS. Ver. 23. Blade] Sword. W. MS. Ver. 31. Gondtila, and Geira] Gunna, and Gondula, ms. NOTES. Ver. 17. Mista, blaek terrific maid] The names of the Sisters, in the original, are Hilda, Hiorthrimula, Sangrida, and Swipuia. 88 We the reins to slaughter give, Ours to kill, and ours to spare : Spite of danger he shall live. 35 (Weave the crimson web of war.) They, whom once the desert-beach Pent within its bleak domain, Soon their ample sway shall stretch O'er the plenty of the plain. 40 Low the dauntless earl is laid, Gor'd with many a gaping wound : Fate demands a nobler head ; Soon a king shall bite the ground. Long his loss shall Eirin weep, 45 Ne'er again his likeness see ; Long her strains in sorrow steep : Strains of immortality ! Horror covers all the heath. Clouds of carnage blot the sun. 50 VARIATIONS. Ver. 4.4. Shall^ Must, ms. Ver. 50. Biol'] Veil, ms. NOTES. Ver. 45. Eirin] Ireland. Ver. 49. Horror covers all the IieatK] This stanza, as it appears in the original, Mr. Herbert has translated without the insertion or omission of a word : " 'Tis horrid now to gaze around, Wliile clouds thro' heaven gore-dropping sail ; M 2 84 Sisters, weave the web of death ; Sisters, cease ; the work is done. Hail the task, and hail the hands! Songs of joy and triumph sing! Joy to the victorious bands ; 55 Triumph to the younger king. Mortal, thou that hear'st the tale. Learn the tenour of our song. Scotland, thro' each M'inding vale Far and wide the notes prolong. 60 Sisters, hence with spurs of speed : Each her thundering faulchion wield ; Each bestride her sable steed. Hurry, hurry to the field ! VARIATIONS. Ver. 59. IViiiding'] Echoing, Afs. Ver. 61 — Gi. Sisters, hence, SfC.^ " Sisters, hence, 'tis time to ride : Now your thundering faulchion wield ; Now your sable steed bestride. Hurry, hurry to the field." ms. NOTES. Air must be stain'd with blood of men, Ere all our oracles shall fail." See Select Icelandic Poetry, p. 50. Ver. 59. Scotland, thro' each winding vale] This and the following line are not in the original. Indeed, this poem is not so much a translation, as a loose, though highly- spirited paraphrase ; and, as Mr. Herbert observes, inferior to the ' Descent of Odin.'' THE VEGTAM'S KlVl'J'HA; OR, THE DESCENT OF ODIN.* AN ODE. FROM THE NORSE TONGUE. The original is to be found in Ssemund's Edda, and in Bartholinus, De Causis contemnendie Mortis; Hafniae, 1680, quarto, Lib. III. c. ii. p. 632. Upreis Odiiin alida gaittr, 8;c. Uprose the king of men Avith speed, And saddled straight his coal-black steed NOTES. * This Ode is much more literally translated than the preceding. The original title I have restored from Gray's MS The first five stanzas of this Ode are omitted ; in wiiicli IJaldtr, one of the sons of Odin, was informed that lie should soon die. Upon his com- munication of his dream, the other gods, finding it true, by consulting the oracles, agreed to ward ofT the approaching danger, and sent Frigga to exact an oath from every thing not to injure Balder. She however overlooked the misletoe, with a branch of which lie was afterwards slain by Hoder, at the instigation of Lok. j\fter the execution of this com- mission, Odin, still alarmed for the life of his sun, called another council ; and hearing nothing but divided opinions amoii;; the gods, to consult the Prophetess, " he up-rose with speed." Vali, or Ali, the son of lUndu, aitcrwards avengi-d the death of Balder, by slay- ing Hoder, and is called u " wondrous boy, because he killed his enemy, before he was a day old; before he had washed his face, combed his hair, or seen one setting-sun." See Mr. Herbert's Icelandic Translations, p. 45 ; lo which I am indebted for part of this note. 86 DoM'n the yawning steep he rode, That leads to Hela's drear abode. Him the dog of darkness spied ; 5 His shaggy tliroat he open'd wide, While from his jaws, with carnage fill'd. Foam and human gore distill'd : Hoarse he bays with hideous din, Eyes that glow, and fangs that grin ; 10 And long pursues, with fruitless yell, The father of the powerful spell. Onward still his way he takes, (The groaning earth beneath him shakes,) Till full before his fearless eyes 15 The portals nine of hell arise. Right against the eastern gate. By the moss-grown pile he sate ; VARIATIONS. \er.\l. Fruitless'] Ceaseless, MS. Ver. l*. Shakes} Quakes, ms. NOTES. Ver. 2. Coal-black steed} Sleipner was the horse of Odin, which had eight legs. Fide Edda. Mason. Ver. 4. That leads to Hela's drear abode} Niflheliar, the hell of the Gothic nations, consisted of nine worlds, to which were devoted all such as died of sickness, old age, or bj- any other means than in battle. Over it presided Hela, the goddess of death. Mason. Hela, in the Edda, is described with a dreadful countenance, and her body half flesh- colour, and half blue. Gray. Ver. 5. Him the dog of dark7iess spied] The Edda gives this dog the name of Mana- garmar. He fed upon the lives of those that were to die. Mason. Ver. 17. Right agahist the eastern gate] So Milton: " Right against the eastern gate When the great sun begins his state." L'Allcg. v. 60. 87 Where long of yore to sleep was laid The dust of the prophetic maid. 20 Facing to the northern clime, Thrice he trac'd the Runic rhyme ; Thrice pronounc'd, in accents dread, The tln-ilhng verse that wakes the dead ; Till from out the hollow ground 25 Slowly breath'd a sullen sound. PUOPHETESS. What call unknown, what charms presume To break the quiet of the tomb? Who thus afflicts my troubled sprite, And drags me from the realms of night? 30 Long on these mould'ring bones have beat The winter's snow, the summer's heat, The dienching dews, and driving rain ! Let me, let me sleep again. VARIATIONS. Ver. 23. Accents'} Murmurs, ms. Ver. 27. What call tinknoxun} What voice unknown, ms. Ver. 29. My troubled} A weary, ms. NOTES. Ver. 22. Thrice he trac'd the Runic rhyme] In a little poem called the ' Magic of Odin,' (see Bartholinus, p. ()4I,) Odin says, " If I see a man dead, and hanging aloft on a tree, I engrave Runic characters so wonderful, that the man immediately descends and converses \>ilh me. When I see magicians travelling tlirouirli the air, I disconcert them with a single look, and force them to abandon their enterprise." Ed. Ver. 2+. I'he IhriU'ni^ verse that tvakes the dead] The original word is Valgalldr ; from Ffl/r mortuus, and d'a/Zr/r incanlutio. Gray. Ver. 34. Let me, let me sleep «^'rt/;/]This and the two following verses are not in the ori- ginal, and therefore Gray probably borrowed them from the Thessalian Incantation in 88 Who is he, with voice unblest, 35 That calls me from the bed of rest ? ODIN. A traveller, to thee unknown, Is he that calls, a warrior's son. Thou the deeds of light shalt know ; Tell me what is done below, 40 For whom yon glitt'ring board is spread, Drest for whom yon golden bed ? PROPHETESS. Mantling in the goblet see The pure bev'rage of the bee : O'er it hangs the shield of gold ; 45 'Tis the drink of Balder bold : Balder's head to death is giv'n. Pain can reach the sons of heav'n ! VARIATIONS. Ver.35. He] This, ms. Ver.41. Yon^ The, ms. Ver. ^S. Reach'] Touch, ms. NOTES. Lucaii. Ph. vi. 820 : " Sic postquam fata peregit, stat vultu moestus tacito, mortemque re- puscit." See Quart. Review, No. xxii. p. 314. Ver. 40. Te/l me what is done below] Odin was anxious about the fate of his son Bal- der, who had dreamed he was soon to die. He was killed by Odin's other son, Hoder, who was himself slain by Vali, the son of Odin and Rinda, consonant with this prophecy. See the £dda. Ver. 43. Mantling in the gohlet see] " The spiced gobiets mantled high, " T. Warton's Works, ii. 74. 89 Unwilling I my lips unclose: Leave me, leave mc to repose. oO ODIN. Once again my call obey, Prophetess, arise, and say. What dangers Odin's child await, Who the author of" his fate? PROPHETESS. In rioder's hand the hero's doom ; 55 I lis brother sends him to the tomb. VARIATIONS. Verses .•> 1 , 52. Once again, c^c] " Prophetess, my call obey, Once again arise and say," Ms. NOTES. Ver. 50. Leave me, leave me to repose] " Quid, oro, me post Letlisea pociila, jam Stygiis pahuiibus iniiatantuin ad nionieiitaria.' vit;e ii diicilis ofiicia ? JJesine yam, pretor, desiiie, etc me in mcam (jitietem permitte," Apuleii Menior. ii. 40. quoted in the Quar- terly Review, No. xxii. p. 314. Ver. 51. Once again my call obej/] Women were looked upon by the Gotliic nations lis having a peculiar ii).sip;lit into futurity; and some there were tliat made profession of magic arts and divination. Tlicse travelled round the country, and were received in every house with great respect and honour. Such a woman bore the name of Volva Seidkona or Spakona. The dress of Thorbiorga, one of tliese prophetesses, is described at Iar"-e in Eirik's Kanda Sogu, (apud Bartlioiin. lib. i. cap. iv. p. ()88.) "She had on a blue vest spangled all over vvitii stones, a necklace of glass beads, and a cap made of the skin of u black lamb linid willi white cat-skin. She leaned on a staff' adorned with brass wiili a round head set with .vtones ; and was girt w itli an Hunlandish belt, at which hun" liir pouch full of magical instrument^). Her buskins were of rough calf-skin, bound on with lhon"s studded with knobs of brass, and her gloves of white cat-skin, the fur turned inwards," &c. 'I'hey were also called fiolki/w^i, or Fiotkunnug, i. e. Multi-scia ; and Viiimlakoim i.e. Oraculorum Mulitr; Nornir, i.e. Parcx. Gkay. VOL. I. N 90 Now my weary lips I close : Leave me, leave me to repose. ODIX. Prophetess, my spell obey, Once again arise, and say, GO Who th' avenger of his guilt, By whom shall Iloder's blood be spilt? PROPHETESS. In the caverns of the Avest, By Odin's fierce embrace coraprest, A wond'rous boy shall Rinda bear, 65 Who ne'er shall comb his raven-hair. Nor wash his visage in the stream. Nor see the sun's departing beam. Till he on Iloder's corse shall smile Flaming on the fun'ral pile. 70 VARIATIONS. Ver. 59, 60. Prophetess, <^c.] " Once again my call obey. Prophetess, arise and say," Ms. Ver. 61, 62. Who th' avenger, S(C.] These verses are transposed in ms. Ver. 65. Wond'rous'} Giant, ms. NOTES. Ver. 6(i. Whe iteer skull comb his raven-hair'] King Haiold made (according to the singular custom of his liuic) a solemn vow never to clip or comb Jiis hair, till he should have extended his sway over the whole country. Herbert's Iceland. Translat. p. SU- In the Translation of the Dyinj; Song of Asbiorn, p. 52 : " Know, gentle mother, know, , Thou «'ilt not comb myjloniiig hair, When summer-sweets return, In Denmark's vallies, Svan\hide fair !" 91 Now my weary lips I close : Leave me, leave me to repose. ODIN. Yet a'Avhile my call obej' ; Prophetess, awake, and say, What virgins these, in speechless woe, 7o That bend to earth their solemn brow, That their flaxen tresses tear, And snowy veils that float in air ? VARIATIONS. Ver. Ti. Avmke^ Arise, ms. Vcr. T". That,flaxen'\ Who, flowing, ms. NOTES. Ver. 75. What virgins these, in speechless k'oc] " It is not certain," says Mr. Herbert, " what Odin means by llie question concerning the weeping virgins ; but it lias been sup- posed that it alludes to the embassy afterwards sent by Frigga to try to redeem Balder from the infernal regions, and that Odin betrays his divinity by mentioning what had not yet hap- pened." Iceland. Translat. p. 48, — The object of this embassy was frustrated by the perfidy of Loke, who having assunu-d (as was supposed) the shape of an old woman, refused to join ill the general petition. " I Lok (she said) will weep with dri/ eyes the funeral of Balder. Let ail things living or dead, weep if they will, but let Mela keep her prey." — After this, Loke hill himself, built a house among the mountains, and made a net. Odin however found out his hiding-place, and the gods assembled to take him. He seeing this, burnt his net, and changed himself into a salmon. After some trouble, Thor caught him by the tail, and this is the reason why salmons, over after, have had their tails so fine and thin. Tlicj bound iiim with chaiii.^, and susprnded the ser|ient Skada over his head, whose venom falls upon his face drop by dro|). His wife Siguna sits by his side, catches the drops as they fall from liil face in a basin, which she empties as often as it is filled. He will remain in chains till the enil of the world, or as the Icelanders call it, the Twilight of the Gods. To this the prophetess alludes in the last stanza. Ver. 7(i. That bend to earth their tolemn brow] This and the following verse are nut in the Latin traimlation. H 2 92 Tell me whence their sorrows rose : Then I leave thee to repose. 80 PROPHETESS. Ha ! no traveller art thou, King of men, I know thee now ; ^Mightiest of a mighty line ■ ODIN. No boding maid of skill divine Art thou, nor prophetess of good ; 85 But mother of the giant brood ! PROPHETESS. Hie thee hence, and boast at home. That never shall enquirer come VARIATIONS. Ver. 79. Tell me whence"} Say from whence, ms. Ver. 83. Mightiest of the mighty line'] The mightiest of the mighty line, Ms. Ver. 87. Hie thee hence, and boast'] Hie thee, Odin, boast, ms. NOTES. Ver. 86. But mother of the giant brood] In the Latin, " mater triiim giganliim :" pro- bably Augerbode, who from iier name seems to be " no prophetess of good;" and v\ho bore to Loke, as the Edda says, tinee children, the wolf Fenris, the great serpent of Mid- gard, and Hela, all of thcmcalled giants in that system of mythology. Mason. Ver. 88. That never shall enquirer come] In the original, this and the three following lines are represented by this couplet : " Et deorum crepusculum ^ Dissolventes aderint." Mr. Herbert has published a translation of the introiliictory lines of this poem, and also nmch curious information illustrating several passages in the text. See his Select Iceland. Poetry, p. 4S. He mentions some little amplifications in Gray, tending to convey notions of the Icelandic mythology, not warrantedby the original, as ' Coal-black steed;' Raven- .93 To iMcak my iron-sleep again ; Till Lok has burst his tenfold chain ; 90 Never, till substantial night Has reassuni'd her ancient right; Till wrapt in flames, in ruin hurl'd. Sinks the fabric of the world. VARIATIONS. Ver. 90. Has^ Have, MS. Ver. 92. Has reassiwi^d'] Reassumes her, MS. NOTES. hair ;' ' Thrice he trac'd tlic Runic rliyme ;' ' The portals tiine of hell ;' ' Foam and human gore.' Vor. <)(). Ti/l Lok has hurst his tenfold chain'] Lok is the evil being, who continues in chains till the Izci'ight of the ^och approaches: when he shall break his bonds, the human race, the stars, and sun, shall disappear; the earth sink in the seas, and lire consume the skies : even (Jdin hinisell' and his kindred deities shall perish. For a further explanation of this niylliology, see ' Introduction a I'Histoire de Uanneniarc par jVIons. Mallet,' 1755, quarto ; or rather a translation of it published in 1770, and entitled ' Northern Antiquities;' in which some mistakes in the original are judiciously corrected. Mason. Compare with this poem, ' Hcrmode's Journey to Hell,' in Dr. Percy's Translation of Mallet's Northern .Antiquities, vol. ii. p. 149. THE TRIUMPHS OF OWEN.* A FRAGMENT. PROM 1UZ WELSH. Froiti Mr. Evans's Specimens of the Welsli Poetry : London, 1761, quarto, p. 25, and p. 127. Owen succeeded his father Griffith appCynan in the principality of North Wales, A.D. 1137. This battle was fought in the year 1 157. Jones's Relics, vol. ii. p. 36. Owen's praise demands my song, Owen swift, and Owen strong; Fairest flower of Rodcric's stem, Gwjnetii's shield, and Britain's gem. He nor heaps his brooded stores, 5 Nor on all profusely pours; Lord of every regal art. Liberal hand, and open heart. NOTES. * Tiie original Welsh of tlie above poem was tiic composition of Gwalchmai the son of Melir, immediately after Prince Owen Gwynedd had defeated the combined fleets of Ice- land, Denmark, and Norway, whicli had invaded his territory on the coast of Anglesca. There is likewise another poem which describes this famous battle, written by Prince Howe), the son of Owen Gwynedd ; a literal translation of which may be seen in Jones's Relics, vol. ii. p. ii(). In Mason's edition, and in all the subsequent, it is said that Owen succeeded his father, A.D. IICO. The date I have altered, agreeably to the text of Mr. Jones, to A. D. 1 1.37. Ver. 1. Gu-yneth] North Wales. 05 Big with hosts of mighty name, Scjuadrons three against him came; 10 This the force of Eirin hiding. Side by side as proudly riding, On her shadow long and gay Lochlin plows the wat'ry way ; There the Norman sails afar 15 Catch the winds and join the war : Black and huge along they sweep, Burdens of the angry deep. Dauntless on his native sands The dragon-son of Mona stands ; 20 In glitt'ring arras and glory drest, High he rears his ruby crest. There the thund'ring strokes begin, There the press, and there the din ; NOTES. Ver. 10. Squadrons three against him came'] " A battle round of squadrons three they shew," Fuirfax's Tasso, xviii. uent. Ver. a. Upon Deira's sqiiadroim hnrFd'^ The kingdom of Deira int luded the counties uf • Mr. Jones, in his Relics, vol. i. p. IT, snys, that .\neurin flourished about \ D. .'jK) VOL. I. O 98 Great Cian's son : of Madoc old He ask'd no heaps of hoarded gold ; Alone in nature's wealth array 'd, He ask'd and had the lovely maid. 10 To Cattraeth's vale in glitt'ring row Thrice two hundred warriors go : Every warrior's manly neck Chains of regal honour deck, Wreath'd in many a golden link : lo From the golden cup they drink Nectar that the bees produce, Or the grape's extatic juice. Flush'd with mirth and hope they burn : But none from Cattraeth's vale return, 20 Save Aeron brave, and Conan strong, (Bursting through the bloody throng) NOTES. Yorkshire, Durham, Lancashire, Westmoreland, and Cumberland. See Jones's Relics, vol. i. pi 7. Ver. 7. Cian] In Jones's Relics it is spelt ' Kian.' Ver. 11. To Cattraeth's vale in g/itt'ring 7-ow'\ In the rival poem of Taliessin mentioned before, this circumstance is thus expressed : " Three, and threescore, and tliree hundred heroes flocked to the variegated banners of Cattraetli; but of those who hastened from the flowing mead-goblet, save three, returned not. Cynon and Cattraeth with hyums they commemorate, and me for my blood they mutually lament." See Jones's Relics, vol. ii. p. 14. — " The great topic perpetually recurring in the Gododin, is, that the Britons lost the battle of Cattraeth, and suffered so severely, because they had drank their mead too profusely. The passages in the Gododin are numerous on this point." See Sharon Turner's Vindi- cation of the Anc. British Poems, p. ol. Ver. CO. But none from Cattraeth's tale return] In the Latin translation : " Ex iis auteni, qui nimiopotu madidi ad bellum properabant, non evasere nisi tres." Ver. 21. Coa/ah] Properly * Conon," or, as in the Welsh, ' Chynon.' 99 And I, the meanest of them all, That live to weep and sing their fall. 24 Have ye seen the tusky boar,* Or the bull, with sullen roar, On surrounding foes advance ? So Car^doc bore his lance. Conan's namc,-^- my lay, rehearse, Build to him the lofty verse. Sacred tribute of the bard. Verse, the hero's sole reward. As the flame's devouring force; As the whirlwind in its course ; As the thunder's fiery stroke, * Glancing on the shiver'd oak ; Did the sword of Conan mow The crimson harvest of the foe. NOTES. Vcr. '23. ylml T, the meanest of them all] In the Latin translation : " Et egomet ipse sanguinu rubcns, alitor ad hoc carmen conipingendum non super>tes fuissem." * Tliis and the following short fragment ought to have appeared among the Posthumous Pieces of Gray ; but it was thought j)rcferable to insert them in this place, with the pre- ceding fragment from the Gododin. See Jones's Relics, vol. i. p. 17. f In Jones's Relics, vol. i. p. 17, it is ' Vcdel's name;' and in turning to the original I sec ' Rhudd Fedel,' as well as in the Latin translation of Dr. Evans, p. 7^. o 2 SONNET THE DEATH OF MR. RICHARD WEST. In vain to me the smiling mornings shine, And redd'ning Phoebus lifts his golden fire : The birds in vain their amorous descant join ; Or chearful fields resume their green attire: These ears, alas ! for other notes repine, 5 i A different object do these eyes require : My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine ; And in my breast the imperfect joys expire. Yet morning smiles the busy race to chear, And new-born pleasure brings to happier men : 10 The fields to all their wonted tribute bear : To warm their little loves the birds complain : I fruitless mourn to him that cannot hear, And weep the more, because I weep in vain. NOTES. Ver. 14. ^nd zteep the more, because I weep in vain] A line similar to this occurs in Gibber's Alteration of Richard the Third, act ii. sc. 2 : " So we must weep, because we weep in vain." 101 " Solon, when he wept for his son's death, on one saying to him, ' Weeping will not help,' answered: Ai' avfo itroZro SuK^^iui, an oJJcv dvirrcu- *I weep for that very cause, that weeping will not avail.'" See Diog. Laert. vol. i. p. 39, ed. Meibomii. It is also told of Augustus. EPITAPH ov MRS. JANE CLERKE. This lady, the wife of Dr. John Gierke, physician at Epsom, died April 27, 175Y; and was buried in the church of Beckenham, Kent. Lo ! where this silent marble weeps, A friend, a wife, a mother' sleeps : A heart, within Avhosc sacred cell The peaceful virtues lov'd to dwell. Affection warm, and faith sincere, And soft humanity were there. In agony, in death resign'd, She felt the wound she left behind, VARIATIONS. Ver. 7 — 10. In agony, 8(c.'\ " To hide her cares her only art, Her pleasure, pleasures to impart. In ling'ring pain, in death resign'd. Her latest agony of mind Was felt for him, who could not save His all from an untimely grave." MS. NOTES. Ver. 1. ho! where this silent marble weepsj " This weeping marble had not ask'd a tear." Pope's Epitaph on Ed. Duke of Buckingham. 103 Her infant image here below, Sits smiling on a father's woe : 10 AVhoni what awaits, while yet he strays Along the lonely vale of days ? A pang, to secret sorrow dear ; A sigh ; an unavailing tear ; Till time shall every grief remove, 15 With life, with memory, and with love. NOTES. And Dart's Westminster Abbey, p. 3 1 : " While o'er the grave the marble statue weeps." Ver. 6. Soft kumanity'] " Yet soft JH nature, though severe iiis lay." Pope's Epit. on Earl of Dorset, 4. EPITAPH SIR WILLIAM WILLIAMS.* This Epitaph was written at the request of Mr. Frederick Montagu, who intended to hare inscribed it on a monument at Bellisle, at the siege of which Sir W. Williams was killed, 1761. See Mason's Memoirs, vol. i. p. 73'; and vol. iv. p. 76. Here, foremost in the dangerous paths of fame, Young Wilhams fought for England's fair renown ; His mind each Muse, each Grace adorn'd his frame, Nor envy dar'd to view him with a frown. At Aix, his voluntary sword he drew, There first in blood his infant honour seal'd ; NOTES. * Sir William Peere Williams, Bart, a captain in Burgoyne's dragoons. Ver. 3. His mind each Muse, each Grace adorn d his frame'] E(vfx£v EUETri'ijf vivvTOif^oyO!, yjv b jxeXi^^os fi.*1C9, in tlic Life of Crashaw, written by ^Ir. Hayley, it is said that tiiis line is " literally translated from tiie Latin prose of Barthoiinus in his D^inish Antiquities." \'er. 39. The long-drawn isle] " And the Ion" isles and vaulted roofs rebound." o Dart's Westminster Abbey, p. 7. lliid. Fretted] " liie roof o' the chamber With golden cherubiras is fretted" Cynibcline, act ii. sc. 4. W. And so llainlel, act ii. 50.2 : " This niajestica! roof fretted with golden fire." Ver. 40. The pealing anthem sicelU the note of praise] " There let the pealing orjjan blow. To the full- voiced (]nirc below, In service high, and anthem clear." II Pens. IfiS. W. VOL. I. Q 114 Can storied urn, or animated bust, Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or flatt'ry sooth the dull cold ear of death ? Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid 45 Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire ; Hands, that the rod of empire might have sway'd, ■Or wak'd to extasy the living lyre : But knowledge to their eyes her ample page Rich with the spoils of time did ne'er unroll ; 50 Chill penury repress'd their noble rage. And froze the genial current of the soul. VARIATIONS. Ver. 4:1. Rod} Reins, ms. M. NOTES. Ver. 41. Animated bust] " Heroes in animated marble frown," Temple of Fame, 73. W. Ver. 44. The dull cold ear of death] " And sleep in dull cold marble," Shaksp. Henry VHI. act iii. sc. 2. Ver. 47. Hands, that the rod of empire might have swayd] " Sunt mihi quas possint sceptra decere manus," Ovid, Ep. v. ver. 8(5. " Proud names that once the reins of empire held," Tickell's Poem to Earl of Warwick, ver. 37. Ver. 48. Or wak'd to extasy the living li/re] " Waken raptures high," Milt. Par. Lost, iii. 369. And Lucretius, ii. 412 : " Mobilibus digitis expergefacta figurant." " Begin the song, and strike the living lyre." Cowley. And Pope's Winds. For. 281 : " where Cowley strung His living harp, and lofty Denham sung." W. Ver. 5 1 . Their noble rage] " Be justly warm'd with your own native rage'' Pope's Prol. to Cato, 43. W. 115 Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear : Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, 55 And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Some village-Hampden, that, with dauntless breast. The little tyrant of his fields withstood, VARIATIONS. Ver. 58. Fields^ Lands, erased in ms. M. NOTES. And: " How hard the task ! liow rare the godlike rage." Tickell's Prol. (Steele's Misc. p. 70.) Ver. 53. Full many a gem of purest ray serene'] " That like to rich and various gems inlay The unadorned bosom of the deep." Comus, ver. 22. And see Young's ' Ocean,' st. xxiv. " There is many a rich Etone laid up in the bowclls of the earth, many a fair pearle in the bosome of the sea, that never was seene, nor never shall bee," Bishop Hall's Con- templations, 1. vi. p. 872. See Quart. Rev. No. xxii. p. 314. Ver. 55. Full many a flower is born to blush unseen] " Like roses that in deserts bloom and die." Pope's Rape of the Lock, iv. 157. W. Also Chamberlaync's Pharonida, part ii. b. iv. p. 94 : " Like beauteous flowers which vainly waste their scent or odors in unhaunted deserts." And Young's Univ. Passion, Sat. v. p. 128 : " In distant wilds, by human eyes unseen, She rears her llow'rs, and spreads her velvet green ; Pure gurgling rills tiie lonely desert trace. And Tcaste their music on tiie savage race." " Like woodland flowers, which paint the desert glades, And uaste their sweets in unfrequented shades." A. Philips' Tliule, p. 135. Q 2 116 Some mute inglorious IVIilton here may rest, Some Cromwell guiltless of his eountry's blood. 60 Th' applause of list'ning senates to command, The threats of pain and ruin to despise, To scatter jjlenty o'er a smiling land, And read their history in a nation's eyes, Their lot forbad : nor circumscrib'd alone 65 Their sirowing virtues, but their crimes confm'd ; NOTES. For the expression 'desert air,' Mr. Wakefield refers to Pindar Ohm p. i. 10: Eiiijuay S'l oc'iUoos. Also Fragin. Incert. cxvi. Ver. 59. Some mute inglorious Milton here vmij rest'\ So Philips, in his animated and eloquent preface to his Theatrum Poetarum, p. xiv. ed. Brydges: " Even the very names of some who having perhaps been comparable to Homer for heroic poesy, or to Euripides for tragedy; yet nevertheless sleep inglorious in the croud of the forgotten vulgar," Ver. Go. Some Cromnell guiltless of his country's blood] Mr. Edwards, the author of ' The Canons of Criticism,' here added the two following stanzas, to supply what he deemed a defect in the poem : " Some lovely fair, whose unaffected charms Shone with attraction to herself unknowii ; Whose beauty might have bless'd a monarch's arms, Whose virtue cast a lustre on a throne. " That humble beauty warm'd an honest heart, And cheer'd the labours of a faithful spouse ; That virtue form'd for every decent part, Tlie healthful offspring that adorn'd their house." Ver. 61. Th' applause nf list'ning senates'] " Tho' wond'ring senates hung on all he spoke." Pope's Mor. Essays, i. 1 84. 117 Forbad lo wade thro' slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind, The strugghng pangs of conscious truth to hide, To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, ' 70 Or heap the shrine of luxury and pride With incense kindled at the Muse's flame. VARIATIONS. Vcr. 68. And] Or, ms. INI. and W. Vcr.71. Shrine'] Shrines, ms. W. NOTES. Ver. 67. Wwlc thro slaughter to a throne] " And swam lo empire thro' the purple flood." Temple of Fame, 347- W. Ver. GS. ./?«/ shut the gales of mercy on mnnhiiul] " The gates ofmerci/ shall be all shut up," Shaksp. Henry V. act iii. sc. 3. Also in Henry VI. part iii : " Open thy gate of mercy, gracious Lord." And so says au obscure poet : " His humble eyes, sighs, cries, and bruised breast, Furc'd ope the gates of mercy, g-ive him rest." Nath. Ilichards's Poems, Sacred and Satyrical, l'2mo. 1G41. p. 145. Also Congreve's Mourning Bride, act iii. sc. 1 : " So did it tear the ears of mercy from his Voice, shutting the gates of prayer against him." Ver. 7-' With incense kindled at the Muse s fame] After this verse, in Mr. Gray's first MS. of the poem, were the four following stanzas : " Tiie thoughlless world to majesty may bow. Exalt the brave, and idolize success ; But more to innocence their safety owe, Than pow'r or genius e'er conspir'd to blesf, " And thou who, minilful of th' unhonour'd dead, Di>st in tiicse note.s their artless tale relate, By night and lonely contemplation led To wander iu tiie gloomy walks of fate : 118 Far from the madding crowd's ignoble stritie, Their sober Avishes never learn'd to stray ; Along the cool sequester'd vale of life 75 They kept the noiseless tenour of their way. Yet ev'n these bones from insult to protect Some frail memorial still erected nigh, With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck'd, Implores the passing tribute of a sigh. 80 Their name, their years, spelt by th' unletter'd Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply : VARIATIONS. Ver. 82. Elegyl Epitaph, ms. M. NOTES. " Hark ! how the sacred cahii, that breathes around, Bids every fierce tumultuous passion cease ; In still small accents whisp'ring from the ground, A grateful earnest of eternal peace. " No more, with reason and thyself at strife. Give anxious cares and endless wishes roonr; But through the cool sequester'd vale of life Pursue the silent tenour of thy doom." And here the poem was originally intended to conclude, before the happy idea of the hoary-headed swain, 8cc. suggested itself to him. Mr. Mason thinks the third of these rejected stanzas equal to any in the whole elegy. Ver. 74. Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray] " With all thy sober charms possest. Whose wishes never learnt to stray." Langhorne's Poems, p. ii. p. 123. Park's ed. Ver. 75. Along the cool sequester'd vale of life] " Foe to loud praise, and friend to learned ease, Content with science, in the vale of peace." Pope's Ep. to FentoD, 6. W. 119 And many a holy text around she strews, Tliat teach the rustic morahst to die. For wiio, to dumb forgetfulncss a prey, 85 This pleasing anxious being e'er resign'd, Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing ling'ring look behind ? On some fond breast the parting soul relies, Some pious drops the closing eye requires ; 90 NOTES. " Mollia per placidam delectant otia vitam." Manil. Astr. iv. 512. Ver. 87. Left the warm precincts of the cheerful dai/] " Dias in luminis oras," Lucre- tius, i. 23. W. Ver. 88. Nor cast one longing ling'ring took behind] So Petrarch, I92 : " Che '1 pii^ va innanzi, e 1' occhio toma indietro." So Whitehead's Ode I. vol. ii. p. 263 : " Tlie voice rcsum'd again, proceed, Nor cast one ling'ring look behind." Mr. Wakefu'ld quotes a passage in the Alccstis of Euripides, ver. 201. This passage is ahnost literally translated in the ' Lettere di Jacopo Ortis, p. 81. " E chi mai cede,"&c. Ver. 89. On some fond breast the parting soul relies] So Drayton in his ' Moses,' p.l5()4. vol. iv. ed. 1753 : " It is some comfort to a wretch to die, (If there be comfort in the way of death) To have some friend, or kind alliance by To he officious at the parting breath." Ver. QO. Some pious drops the closing ei/c requires] " No friend's complaint, no kind domestic tear Pleas'd thy pale ghost, or grac'd thy mournful bier ; By foreign hands thy dying eyes were clos'd." Pope's Elegy, 8 1 . And, " Tlien from his ctositig eyes thy form shall part," ver, 80. And so Solon, ver. 5. ed. Brunck. : 120 Ev'n from the tomb the voice of nature cries, Ev'n in our ashes Uve their wonted fires. For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead, Dost in these hues their artless tale relate ; If chance, by lonely contemplation led, 95 Some kindred spirit shall enquire thy fate, — VARIATIONS. Ver. 92. Ev'n, live^ And, glow, ms. M. and W. Ver. 92. Ev'n in our ashes live their xuonted fires'^ " Awake and faithful to her wonted fires.'' So the first and second editions. NOTES. MijJ* l^hii axhavirrds havaro; jj,6\oi, a^Xa (flXoia Ver. 91. Ev'n from the tomb the voice of nature cries'] Some lines in the Anlliologia Lalina, p. GOO. Ep. cliii. have a strong resemblance to those in the text : " Credo mihi vires aliquas natura stpulthris Adhibiiit, tumuios vindicat umbra suos.'' So also Ausonius (Parentalia), p. 109. ed. Tollii ; " Gaudent compositi cineres sua noniiua dici.'' Ver. 92. £v'h in our ashes Uve their wontedfires] " Ch' i veggio nel pensier, dolce niio fuoco, Fredda una lingua, e due begli occiii cliiusi l-timaner doppo noi pien di faville." Pctr. Son. cLxix. Guay. " Yet in our ashen cold, is fire yrekcn." Chaucer's Reve's Prologue, ver. 3880. p. 1 SG. AndOvid.Trist.ni.iii.83: " Quanivis in cinereni corpus mutaverit ignis, Sentiet officium moesla favilla piuui." Propert. II. xiii. 41 : " Iiitcrea cave, sis nos adspernata sepultos, Xon nihil ad verum conscia terra sapit." Mr. Wakefield cites Pope's Ep. to M. Blount, ver. 72 : " By this e'en now they live, e'en now they charm, Their wit still sparkling, and their fame still tcarm." 121 Haply some hoarj-lieaded swain maj say, " Oft have we seen liiin at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland knvn: 100 VARIATIONS. Ver. 100. To meet the sun upon the upland lawn'] " On the high brow of yonder hanging lawn." After which, in his first MS., followed this stanza : " Hini have we seen the greenwood side along, 'UTiile o'er the heath we hied, our labour done. Oft as the woodlark pipM her farewell song. With wistful ejcs pursue the setting sun." " I rather wonder (says Mr. Mason ) that he rejected this stanza, as it not only has the same sort of Doric delicacy which charnis us peculiarly in this part of the poem, but also completes the account of his whole day : whereas, this evening scene being omitted, we have only his morning walk, and his noon-tide repose." NOTES. Ver. 97. Hoary-headed swain] " Hoary-tressed hind," Warton's Works, i. liy. Ver. 99. Brushing with hast j/ steps the dews away'] Milton, Par. Lost. v. 429 : " From off the ground, each morn, We brush n\e\\\(\\u>iis dezcs." So also Arcades, ver. 50 : " And from l\w houghs liiush oft" liie evil dew." Ver. 100. To meet thesuji] So Petrarch, in Rime Sceiti, p. 120 : " Re degli aitri, superbo, altero fmnie Che "h contril sol, quando c nc niena il giorno." And Tasso, in his Sonnet to Canioi-ns : " Vasco, te cui felic^ ardite antenna IiH'oittro al sot ciie ne riporta il giorno,"' 8cc. And in another Sonnet : " Come va innam'i a /" ullro sol V aurora," &c. Langhorue, in ' Visions of Fancy,' Elegy III : " Then let nie meet the morn's first ray." And T. Warton, ii. 147 : " On airy uplands met the piercing gale.' Compare also Lucan, Phars. iii. 232. VOL. I. » 122 " There at the foot of yonder nodding beech. That \\ reathes its old fantastic roots so high, His Hstless length at noontide wonld he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by. " Hard by yon Avood, now smiling as in scorn, 105 Mutt'ring his wayward fancies he would rove ; VARIATIONS. Ver. 106. lie laould'l Would he, Ms. M. and W. NOTES. Ver. 100. Upland lawn'] " Y.ie the high lawns appeared Under the opening eyelids of the morn." Lycidas,25. W. Ver. IOC. That wreathes its old fantastic roots so ht'gh] " From the deep dcU where shaggy roots Fringe the rough brink with wreathed slioots." T. Warton's Ode VII. 53. Ver. 103. His listless length at noontide would he stretch'] " spread His listless limbs at noontide on the marge Of smooth translucent pools." Scott's Amwell, p. 22. Park's ed. Ver. 104. And poie upon the brook that babbles by] " Unde loguaces lympha desiliuut tuffi,"Hor. Od. 111. xiii. 15. " He lay along Under an oak, whose antique root peep'd out Upon the brook, that brawls along this wood." As You Like It, act ii. so. 1. W. Ver. 105. Hard by yon zcood, now smiling as in scorn] " Yet at my parting sweetly did she s)7iile -n scorn." Shakspeare's Sonnets. " smylynge halfe in scorne At our foly." Skelton's Prologue to the Brage of Courte, p. 59. 123 Now drooping, woeful-wan, like one forlorn, Or craz'd with care, or cross'd in hopeless love. " One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd hill, Along the heath, and near his fav'ritc tree ; 110 Another came ; nor yet beside the rill. Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he : " The next, with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne : — Approach and read (for thou can'st read) the lay 115 Grav'd on the stone beneath yon aged thorn." THE EPrj'APH.* Here rests his head upon the lap of earth A youth, to fortune and to fame unknown : VARIATIONS. Ver. lOa On'] From, Ms. M. NOTES. Ver. 107. Now drooping, woeful-wait, like one forlorn'] " For pale aiul icanne he was, alas ! the while May seeme he lord or else some care he tooke." Spenser's January, 8. W . Ver. 1 1 \. Through the rhurrh-nvii/ pn/h] " In the chnrvh-Kiiy paths to irlide." Mids. Niglit's Dream, act v. sc. 1. W. Ver. 1 1.5. ylpproach and read {for thou can'st read) the lay] " Tell, (for you can,) what is it to be wise." Popes Ep. iv. 2()0. W. " And steal (for you can steal) celestial fire." Young. • " Before the Epitaph," says Mr. Mason, " Mr. Gray originally inserted a very beau- tiful stanza, which was printed in some of the first editions, but afterwards oniitttd, because he thought that it was too long a parentiiesis in this place. The lines however are, in them- selves, exquisitely fine, and demand preservation : K 2 124 Fiiir science frown'd not on his humble birth, And melancholy mark'd him for her own. 120 Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere, Heaven did a recompcnce as largely send: He gave to mis'ry (all he had) a tear, He gain'd from heav'n ('twas all he wish'd) a friend. No farther seek his merits to disclose, 125 Or (haw his frailties fron) their dread abode, (There they alike in trembling hope repose,) The bosom of his Father and his God. NOTES. " ' There scattei 'd oft, the earliest of the year. By hands unseen are show'rs of violets found ; The redbreast loves to build and warble there. And little footsteps ligliliy print the ground.' " Ver. 1 1 7. Here rests his head upon the lap of earth] So Milton : " How glad would lay me down, As in my mother's lap." Par. Lost, x. 777. Also Spens. F. Queen, V. vii. 9 : " On their mother earth's dear lap did lie." " Kedditur enim terra; corpus, et ita locatum ac situni quasi operimento matris obdu. cetur." Cicero dc Legibus, ii. '22. I cannot help adding to this note, the short and pathetic sentence of Pliny, H. N. ii. 6S. " Nam terra uovissime comple.xagremio jam a reliqud naturd ahnegatos, turn maxime, ut mater, operit." Ver. 1 19. Fair science frown'd not on his humble birth] " Quem tu Melpomene semel Nascentem placido lumine videris," Hor. Od. IV. iii. 1. W. Ver. 121. Large Kas his boiinti/, and his soul sincere] " Large was his soul, as large a soul as e'er Submitted to inform a body here," Cowley, vol. i. p. 11 9. " A passage which," says the editor, " Gray seemed to have had his eye on." 125 Ver. 127. There they alike in trembling hope repose"] " Spe trepido," Lucan.vfc.297. W. And Mallet: " With trembling tenderness of hope and fear." Funeral Hymn, ver. 473. Hooker has defined ' hope ' to be a " trembling expectation of things far removed," Eccl. Pol. B, I. cited in Quart. Rev. No. XXH. p. 315. " paventosa speme," Petr. Son. cxiv. Gray. In the Gentleman's Magazine, vol. lii. p. 20, it is asserted that Gray's Elegy was taken from Collins'sOde to Evening ; while in the Monthly Review, vol. liii. p. 102, it is said to be indebted to an Elegy by Gay. I see, however, not the least reason for assenting to these opinions. The passages from ' Celio Magno,' produced in the Edinburgh Review, vol. v. p. 51, are very curious, and form an interesting comparison. It is well known how much the Italian poet Pignotti is indebted to the works ef Gray : some passages would have been given, but the editor was unwilling to increase tlie number of the notes, already perhaps oc- cupying too much space. A LONG STORY. This Poem was rejected by Gray in the Collection published by himself; aad though published afterwards by Mr. Mason in his Memoirs of Gray, he placed it amongst the Letters, together with the Posthumous Pieces ; not thinking himself authorized to insert among the Poems, what the author had rejected. A LONG STORY. (See Mason's Memoirs, vol. iii. p. 130.) Mr. Gray'3 Elegy in a Country Church- Yard, previous to its publication, was handed about in manuscript ; and had amongst other admirers the Lady Cobham, who resided at the mansion-house at Stoke Pogeis. The performance inducing her to wish for llie author's acquaintance, her relation. Miss Speed, and Lady Scliaub, then at her house, undertook to effect it. These two ladies waited upon the author at his aunt's solitary habitation, where he at that time resided ; and not finding him at home, they left a card behind tlicm. INIr. Gray, surprised at such a compliment, returned the visit. And as the beginning of this acquaintance bore some appearance of romance, he soon after gave a humorous account of it ill the following copy of verses, w hioh he entitled ' A Long Story.' (Note in Mr, Wakefield's edition.) In Britain's isle, no matter where, An ancient pile of building stands : The Huntino-dons and Ilattons there Enjploy'd the pow'r of fairy hands To raise the ceiling's fretted height, Each pannel in achievements clothing. Rich windows that exclude the light. And j)ass;igcs, that lead to nothing. NOTES. Ver. 'i. /In aiiaent pile of buihliii'^ stands'] The mansion-house at Stokc-Pogei», then in tlu' possession of ViscouHte.ss C. hhani. The house formerly belouged to the earls of Huntingdon and (he family of Ilalton. Mason. Ver. 7. Siih tcindujin that eic/inle the iii^ht] " And storied windown richly digh(, Casting a dim religious light." U Penseroso, 159. VOL. I. S 130 Full oft within the spacious walls, When he had fifty winters o'er him, 10 Mv grave Lord-Keeper led the brawls ; The seals and maces danc'd before him. His bushy beard, and shoe-strings green, His high-crown'd hat, and satin doublet, Mov'd the stout heart of England's queen, 15 Though Pope and Spaniard could not trouble it. What, in the very first beginning! Shame of the versifying tribe ! Your hist'ry whither are you spinning! Can you do nothinn; but describe? 20 A house there is (and that's enough) From whence one fatal morning issues A br?.ce of warriors, not in buff, But rustling in their silks and tissues. NOTES. And Pope's Eloisa, 1 42 : " Where awful arches make a noonday night, And the dim windows shed a solemn li^lit." \V. Ver. 11. My grave Lord-Keeper] Sir Christopher Hatton, j)romoted by Qncen Eliza- beth for his grateful person and fine dancing. Gu AY. — See Hume's England, vol. v. p. S30. Naunton's Fragmenta Regalia, and Ocklandi Elizabetha, m i. Ver. 1 1. Led the hruxds] Brawls were a sort of Frencli figure-dance, then in vogue. See England's Helicon, p. 101 ; Browne's Poems, vol. iii. p. 149, ed. Thompson; and the Note by Steevens to Love's Labour's Lost, act iii. sc. 1 , p. 52. And so Ben Jonson, in a Masque, vol, vi. p. 27, ed. Whaiey : " And thence did Venus learu to lead The Idalian brawls." But see more particularly Marston's Malcontent, act iv. sc. 2, where it is tlescribed : " We have forgot the brawl," &c. 131 The first came cap-a-pcc from France, 25 Her conqu'ring destiny fulfilling, Whom meaner beauties eye askance, And vainly ape her art of killing. The other amazon kind hcav'n Had arm'd with spirit, wit, and satire ; 30 But Cobham had the polish giv'n. And tipp'd her arrows with good-nature. To celebrate her eyes, her air — Coarse panegyrics would but tease her ; Melissa is her " nom de guerre." 35 Alas, who would not wish to please her ! With bonnet blue and capuchine, And aprons long, they hid their armour; And veil'd their weapons, bright and keen. In pity to the country farmer. 40 Fame, in the shHj)e of Mr. P — t, (By this time all the parish know it) Had told that thereabouts there lurk'd A wicked imp they call a poet: Who prowl'il the country far and near, 45 Bewitch'd the children of the peasants, NOTES. Ver. 41. Fame, iu the shupe of Mr. P — /] It lias been said, that this geiitlcinan, a ntij;l)h*)ur and acquaintance of Mr. Gray's in ll»e country, was mucli displeased with rfie lilicrly litre takdi « illi liis naiiic ; yet, surely, without any great reason. Mason. S 2 132 Dried u|) the cows, and lam'd the deer, And suck'd tlie eggs, and kill'd the plicasants. My lady heard their joint petition, Swore by her coronet and ermine, 50 She'd issue out her high commission To rid the manor of such vermin. The heroines undertook the task. Through lanes unknown, o'er stiles they ventur'd, Rapp'd at the door, nor stay'd to ask, 55 ]iut bounce into the parlour enter'd. The trembling family they daunt, They flirt, they sing, they laugh, they tattle, Rummage his mother, pinch his aunt, And up stairs in a whirlwind rattle : 60 Each hole and cujjboard they explore. Each creek and cranu}' of his chamber, Run hurry-skurry round the floor, And o'er the bed and tester clamber; NOTES. Ver. 51. Shed issue out her high commissioti] Henry the Fourth, in the fourth year of his reign, issued out the followiug commission against this species of vennin : — " And it is enacted, tliat no niaster-riuiour, minstrel, or other vagabond, be in any wise sustained in the land of Wales, to make coiumoiths, or gatherings upon the people there."—" Va- gabond," says Ritson, " was a title to which the profession had been long accustomed." " Beggars they are with one consent, And rogues by act of parliament." See Preface to Ancient Songs, p. xi. There are still stronger Scotch statutes against them, some condemning them and " such like fules" to lose their ears, and others their lives. 133 Into the drawers and china pry, Q^ Papers and l)ooks, a l)uge imbrogho! Under a tea-cup he niiglit he, Or creased, hke dogs-ears, in a foho. On the first marching of the troops, The IMuses, hopeless of his pardon, 70 Convey 'd him underneath their hoops To a small closet in the garden. So rumour says : (who will, believe.) But that they left the door ajar. Where, safe and laughing in his sleeve, 75 He heard the distant din of war. Short was his joy. He little knew The pow'r of magic was no fable ; NOTES. Ver. ()7. Under a tea-cup he m'ight liel There is a very great similurity between the style of part of tliis poem, and Prior's Talc ot the ' Dove :' as for instance in the f«ll«\v- ing stanzas, which Grav, I think, must have had in his mind at the time, " W ilh oiie groat ptal they rap the door, Like footmen on a visiting day : Folks at her house at such an horn-, Lord ! what will ail the neighbours say r # * • -» « " Her keys he takes, her door unlocks, Thro" wardrobe, and thro' closet bounces, Peeps into every chest and box. Turns all her furbelows and tlouuccs. ***** " I marrel much, she smilini; said, Your poultry cannot yet be found : Lies he in yonder slipper dead, Or may be in the tea-pot drown'd." 134 Out of the window, wisk, they flew, But left a spell upon the table. 80 The words too eager to unriddle. The poet felt a strange disorder; Transparent bird-lime form'd the middle, And chains invisible the border. So cunning was the apparatus, 85 The powerful pot-hooks did so move him, That, will he, nill he, to the great house He went, as if the devil drove him. Yet on his way (no sign of grace. For folks in fear are apt to pray) §0 To Pha^bus he preferr'd his case. And begg'd his aid that dreadful day. The godhead would have back'd his quarrel ; But with a blush, on recollection, Own'd that his quiver and his laurel 95 'Gainst four such eyes were no protection. The court was sate, the culprit there. Forth from their gloomy mansions creeping, The lady Janes and Joans repair. And from the gallery stand peeping : 100 Such as in silence of the nio-ht Come (sweep) along some winding entry, (Styack as often seen the sight) Or at the chapel-door stand sentry: 135 In peaked hoods and mantles tainish'd, 105 Sour visages, enough to scare ye, Hio^h dames of honour once, that garnish'd The drawing-room of fierce Queen Mary. The peeress comes. The audience stare, And doff their hats with due submission : 110 She curtsies, as she takes her chair. To all the people of condition. The bard, Avith many an artful fib, Had in imagination fcnc'd him, Disprov'd the arguments of Squil), 115 And all that Groom could urge against him. But soon his rhetoric forsook him, When he the solemn hall had seen; A sudden fit of ague shook him, He stood as mute as poor Maclcane. 120 Yet something he was heard to mutter, " How in the park beneath an old tree, (A\'ilhout design to hurt the butter, Or any malice to the poultry,) NOTES. Vcr. 103. Sti/ack] Tlie liousckotpcr. G. Vcr. 115. Sfiuih] Groom of the chamber. G. Ver. 1 IG. Groom] The steward. G. Ver. 120. Macleani'] A famous liighwayman hanged the wick before. G. 136 *' He once or twice had penn'd a sonnet ; 135 Yet hop'd, that he might save his bacon: Numbers would give their oaths upon it, He ne'er was for a conj'rer taken." The ghostly prudes with hagged face Already had condemn'd the sinner. 130 My lady rose, and with a grace — She smil'd, and bid him come to dinner. " Jesu-Maria ! Madam Bridget, Why, what can the Viscountess mean ?" (Cried the square-hoods in woful fidget) 135 " The times are alter'd quite and clean! " Decorum's turn'd to mere civility ; Her air and all her manners show it. Commend me to her affability ! Speak to a commoner and a poet !" 140 \^Here five hundred stanzas are hst!\ And SO God save our noble king, And guard us from long-winded lubbers, That to eternity would sing. And keep my lady from her rubbers. THE POSTHUMOUS POEMS AND FRAGMENTS OF GRAY. VOL. I. ODE ON THE PLEASURE ARISING FROM VICISSITUDE. Left unfinished by Mr. Gray. With additions by Mr. Mason, distinguished by inverted comnnis. Now the golden morn aloft Waves her dew-bespangled wing, With vermeil cheek and whisper soft She wooes the tardy spring : Till April starts, and calls around 5 The sleeping iVagrancc from the ground ; And lightly o'er the living scene Scatters his freshest, tenderest green. New-born flocks, in rustic dance, Frisking ply their feeble feet ; 10 Forgetful of their wintry trance The birds his presence greet : NOTES. Ver. 8. Scatters hit freshest, tenderest green] " Half rob'd appears the hawthorn hedge, Or to tlic distant eye displays IVcak/i/greeit its budding sprays." VVarton's 1st of April, i. 180. See Mr. Mant's note upon tlie passage. T 2 140 But chief, the sky-lark warbles high His trembling thrilling extasy ; And, lessening from the dazzled sight, 15 Melts into air and liquid light. Rise, my soul ! on wings of fire. Rise the rapt'rous choir among ; Hark ! 'tis nature strikes the lyre, -And leads the gen'ral song: 20 * Warm let the h'ric transport flow. Warm as the ray that bids it glow ; And animates the vernal grove ^\ith health, with harmony, and love.' Yesterday the sullen year 25 Saw the snowy whirlwind fly; NOTES. Ver. 9- ^ew-bomjlockt, in rustic dance] " Hinc nova proles, Artubui irifirmis teneras lasciva per berbas LudiL " Lucret. i. 260. " O'er the broad downs a norel rate, Friik. \he lambs zcithfallering pace.'^ T. VVarton, i. ]B.5. Ver. 17- I{i%e, my %oul ! on trin^s of fire] Mr. Mason infornn us, thai he has heard Gray say, that Mr. Oresset's ' Epilre a ma Soeur' gave him the first idea of this Ode ; and whoever, he says, compares it with the French Poem, will find some slight traits of resem- blance, but chiefly in the author's seventh stanza The following lines seem to have been in Gray's remembrance at this place : " Mon ame, trop long temsfletrie Va de nouvean s' ^panonir; Et loin de toute reverie Voltiger avec le Z':phire, Otcupe tout entier du soin du plaieir d'etre," &c. 141 Mute was the music of tlie air, The herd stood drooping by : Their raptures now tliat wildly flow, No yesterday nor morrow know ; 30 'Tis man alone that joy descries With forward, and reverted eyes. Smiles on past misfortune's brow Soft reflection's hand can trace ; And o'er the check of sorrow throw 35 A melancholy grace ; While hope prolongs our happier hour, Or dee|)est shades, that dim^y lower And blacken round our weary way. Gilds with a gleam of distant day. 40 Still, where rosy pleasure leads, See a kindred grief pursue ; Behind the steps that misery treads, Approaching comfort view : The hues of bliss more brightly glow, 45 Chastis'd by sabler tints of woe ; NOTES. Ver. 31. 'Tis man alone that joy descries] " Sure he that made us with such large discourse Lookiur; heiore mid nj'ter." Ilanilct, act iv. «c. 4. Ver 4.";. llehind the stqn tliiit misery treads] Dr. Warton refers to Pope's Essay on Man, ii. '270: " See some strange comfort every state attend, And pride bcstow'd on all, a connnon friend : See some tit pa^>ion every age supply; Hope travels on, nor quits us till we die," 142 And blended form, with artful strife, The strength and harmony of life. See the wretch, that long has tost On the thorny bed of pain, 50 At length repair his vigour lost, And breathe and walk again: The meanest floweret of the vale, The simplest note that swells the gale, NOTES. Ver. 45. The hues of bliss more biighlh/ g/orc] " Here sweet, or strong, may every colour flow ; Here let the pencil warm, the colours glow; Of light and sliaile piovoke the noble strife. And wake each striking feature into life." Brown's Essay on Satire, ii. 358. Ver. 49. See the wretch, ^c] " O ! jours de la convalescence ! Jours d'uue pure volupte : Ce'st une nouvelie naissance, Un rayon d'immortalite. Quel feu ! tons les plaisirs out vole dans mon ame, J' adore avec transport le celeste flambeau ; Tout m int6resse, tout m' enflame — Pour moi, I'univcrs est nouveau. Les plus simples objects ; le chaute d'un Fauvette, Le matin d'un beau jour, la verdure des bois. La fraicheur d'une violette ; Milles spectacles, qu' autrefois, On voyoit avec nonchalance, , Transportent aujourd'hui, presentent des appas Inconnus a 1' indiif<6rence, Et que la foule ne voit pas.' Cresset, torn. i. p. 145. 143 The common sun, the air, the skies, 55 To him are opening paradise. Humble quiet builds iier cell. Near the source whence pleasure tiows ; She eyes the clear crystalline well. And tastes it as it goes. 60 'While' far below the 'madding' crowd ' Rush headlong to the dangerous flood,' Where broad and turbulent it sweeps, ' And' perish in the boundless deeps. Mark where indolence and pride, 65 ' Sooth'd by flattery's tinkling sound,' NOTES. Ver. 55. The common sun, S^c.'] " Communemque prius, ceu lumina solis." Ovid Metam. i. 135. " Nee solem proprium natura, nee aera fecit." Id. vi. 350. Ver. 56. To him are opening paradise'] " The fields assiim'd umisunl bloom, And every zepliyr breath'd perfume : The laughing sun witli genial beams Uanc'd lightly on the exulting streams; 'Twas transport not to be exprest, 'Twas paradise. " Wliitehead's Variety, p.G. And Dryden's Absalom, vol. i. p. 11 6. ed. Derrick : " And paradise was open'd in his face." And T. Warlon, ed. Mant, ii. 31 : " With whom eacU Jie/d's a paradine." Ver. 59. She eyes the clear crptailine zaelf] So Milton accents the w ord : " On the crystAUjne sky, in sapphire tiiron'd." Par. Lost, b. vi. ver. TT'J. 144 Go, softly rolling, side by side, Their dull but daily round : ' To these, if Hebe's self should bring The purest cup from pleasure's spring, 70 Say, can they taste the flavour high Of sober, simple, genuine joy? ' Mark ambition's march sublime Up to power's meridian iieight; While pale-eyed envy sees him climb, 75 And sickens at the sight. Phantoms of danger, death, and dread. Float hourly round ambition's head ; While spleen, within his rival's breast, Sits brooding on her scorpion nest. 80 ' Happier he, the peasant, far, From the pangs of passion free. That breathes the keen yet wholesome air Of rugged penury. He, when his morning task is done, 85 Can slumber in the noontide sun ; And hie him home, at evening's close. To sweet repast, and calm repose. NOTES. Ver. 65. Mark, where indolence and pride] "Tout s' ^mousse dans I'habitude ; L'amour s'endort sans volupt6; Las des memes plaisirs, las de leur multitude. Le sentiment n'est plus flatd." 145 He, unconscious whence the bliss, Feels, and owns in carols rude, 90 That all the circling joys are his, Of dear Vicissitude. From toil he wins his spirits light, From busy day the peaceful night ; Rich, from the very want of wealth, 95 In heaven's best treasures, peace and health/ VOL. I. TRANSLATION OF A PASSAGE FROM STATIUS.* THEB. Lib. VI. ver. 704—724. Third in the labours of the disc came on, With sturdy step and slow, Hippomedon ; Artful and strong he pois'd the well-known weight, By Phlegyas warn'd, and fir'd by Mnestheus' fate. That to avoid, and this to emulate. 5 His vigorous arm he try'd before he flung, Brac'd all his nerves, and every sinew strung; Then, with a tempest's whirl, and wary eye, Pursu'd his cast, and hurl'd the orb on high ; The orb on high tenacious of its course, 10 True to the mighty arm that gave it force, Far overleaps all bound, and joys to see Its ancient lord secure of victory. The theatre's green height and woody wall Tremble ere it precipitates its fall; 15 NOTES. * This translation, which Gray sent to W are the follow ing spirited lines : " The Alps in vain their vast barrier oppose. Swarms rise on swarms, and foes succeed to foes. I saw their armed wains, and liarne.ss'd steeds, O'erspread the Sabine fields, and Tuscan meads; I heard their savage horns provoke to war, While human victims bled to horrid Thor." Ver. 51. The blue- eyed myriiids from the Jiallic coast] So Pope, Dunciad, iii. 89 : " The North by myriads pours her mighty sons. ' " The fair complexion of the blue-eyed warriors if Germany formed a singular con- trast with the swarthy or olive hue, which is derived from the neighbourhood of the torrid zone," Gibbon's Rom. Hist. iii. 337. Ausonius gives them this distinguishing feature : " Oni/os aernla, flava comas," De Bissula. 17- p. 341. ed. Tollii. Ver. 57. And quaff the pendent vintage as it griius] Claudian in his poem De Bello Getico, ver. 504, makes the Gothic warriors mention the vines of Italy : " Quid palmitis uber Etrusci," 8cc. " Et dulces rapuit de collibus uvas," Statii Silv. II. ; and " Carpite de plenis pendentes vitibus uvas," Ovid. Am. I. s. 55. " Pendet vindemia," Virg Georg. ii. &J. 169 Proud of the yoke, and pliant to the rod, Why yet does Asia dread a monarch's nod, AV'hile European freedom still withstands 60 Th' encroaching tide that drowns her lessening lands ; And sees far off, with an indignant groan, Her native plains, and empires once her own? Can opener skies and suns of fiercer flame O'erpower the fire, that animates our frame ; 60 As lamps, that shed at eve a cheerful ray. Fade and expire beneath the eve of day ? Need we the influence of the northern star To string our nerves and steel our hearts to war? And, where the face of nature laughs around, 70 Must sick'ning virtue fly the tainted ground? Unmanly thought ! what seasons can controul, AVhat fancied zone can circumscribe the soul, Who, conscious of the source from whence she springs, By reason's light, on resolution's wings, 75 Spite of her frail companion, dauntless goes O'er Libya's deserts and through Zembla's snows? She bids each slumb'ring energy awake. Another touch, another temper take. Suspends th' inferior laws that rule our clay : 80 The stubborn elements confess her sway ; Their little wants, their low desires, refine. And raise the mortal to a height divine. Not but the human fabric from the birth Imbibes a flavour of its parent earth : 85 As various tracts enl'orce a various toil. The maimers speak the idiom of their soil. An iron-race the mountain-cliffs maintain, Foes to the gentler genius of the plain : VOL. I. z 170 For where unwearied siuews must be found 00 With side- long plough to quell the flinty ground. To turn the torrent's swift-descending flood, To brave the savage rushing from the wood, A\'hat wonder, if, to patient valour train'd, They guard with spirit, what by strength they gain'd ? 95 And while their rocky ramparts round they see, The rough abode of want and liberty, (As lawless force from confidence will grow) Insult the plenty of the vales below? What wonder, in the sultry climes, that spread 100 Where Nile redundant o'er his summer-bed From his broad bosom life and verdure flings, And broods o'er Egypt with his wat'ry wings. If with advent'rous oar and read}^ sail The dusky people drive before the gale ; 105 NOTES. Ver. 91. With side-long plough to quell the flinty ground'] " Or drives his venturous plnughslitire to the steep, Or seeks the den, \\ here snovv-tracks mark the M'aj, And drags the struggling swoage into day." Goldsmith's Traveller. Ver. 101. Where Nile redundant o'er his sutnmer-bed'] " Gaudet aquis, quas ipsa vehit Niloque redundant." Claudiani NiJus, ver. 7- Ver. 103. And broods o'er Egi/pt with his wat'ry wings'] " O'er which lie kindly spreads his spaciwis wing. And hatches plenty for tli' ensuing spring." Denham's Cooper's Hill. W. Ver. 105. The dusky people] " Cepheam hie Meroen, fuscaque regno canat," Pro- pert. IV. vi. 678. " Fuscis ^-Egyptus aluinnis," Propert. II. xxiv. 15. " Jam proprio tellus gaudens j^gyptia Nilo ; Lenius irriguis infuscat corpora campis." Manil. iv. 727. And so Dryden's version of Virg. Georg. iv. 409, pointed out by Mr. Wakefield : 171 Or on frail floats to neighboring cities ride, Tliat rise and glitter o'er the ambient tide ******* [The following couplet, which was intended to liave been introduced in the poem on the Alliance of Education and Government, is much too beautiful to be lost. (Mason, vol. iii. p. 1 14.) When love could teach a monarch to be wise,* And gospel-light first dawn'd from Bullen's eyes. VARIATIONS. Ver. 106. A'eighb'ring2 Distant, ms. NOTES. " And where in pomp the sun-burnt people ride On painted barges, o'er the teeming tide." Ver. 105. Drive before the g«/i'] " Spread the thin oar, and catch the driving gale." Pope's Essay on Man, iii, 178. Ver. 106. Or on frail floats to neighb'ring cities ride'] Lucaii will explain the meaning of the frail float : " Sic cum tenet omnia Niltis, Conseritur bibula Memphitis ci/mba papyro." Pharsal. iv. 135. But Mr. Gilpin gives another explanation in his Western Tour, see p. 34. * I Mill add, that the last couplet of this poem : " When love could teach," &,c. has been imitated hy H. Walpole, in an inscription on a Gothic column to Queen Katharine; but with a loss of the mt't:ipl)orii;al beauty in the original : " From Katharine's wrongs a nation's bliss was spread, And Luther's light, from Ilenrv's lawless bed." " If (says Dryden) Conscience had any part in moving the king to sue for a divorce, she had taken a long iiap of almost twenty yrars togttlu'r before she was awakened ; and, per- haps, had slept on till doomsday, if Anne Boleyu, or some other fair lady, had not given her a jog : so the satisfying of an inordinate passion cannot be denied to have had a great share at least in the production of that schism which led the very way to our pretended Reformation," Dryden's Works, ed. Malone, vol. iii. p. o'l'l. ■A 2 172 COMMENTARY. 'I'he iiiitlior's subject being (as we liave seen) The necessary ulliavre lietzceen n good form of goceninient and a good mode of education, in order to produce the happiness of mankind, the Poem opens with two similes; an uncommon kind of exordium : but which I suppose the poet intentionally chose, to intimate tiie analogical method he meant to pinsue in his subsequent reasonings. 1st, He asserts that men without education arc like sickly plants in a cold or barren soil, (line 1 to 5, and 8 to 12;) and, Cdl\, he compares them, when unblest with a just and well-regulated government, to plants that will not blossom or bear fruit in an unkindly and incleuiont iiir (I. 5 to 9, and I. 1,} to 'i'2). Having thus laid do\\ n the two proposi'.ions he means to prove, he begins by examining into the characteristics which (taking a general view of mankind) all men have in connnon one with another (1.22 to 39); they covet pleasure and avoid pain (1. 31); they feel gratitude for benelits (I. 34) ; they desire to avenge wrongs, which they eflfcct either by force or cuiniing (1. 35) ; they are linked to each other by their comnion feelings, and participate in sorrow and in joy (1. 36, 37). If then all the human species agree in so many moral particulars, whence arises the diversity of national characters ? This question the poet puts at line 38, and dilates upon to 1. f)\. Why, says he, have sonfc nations shewn a propensity to com- merce and industry ; others to war and rapine ; others to ease and pleasure ? (1. 42 to 46) Why have the northern people overspread, in all ages, and prevailed over the southern f (I. 46 to 58) Why has Asia been, time out of mind, the seat of despotism, and Europe that of freedom? (I. 59 to 64). Are we from these instances to imagine men necessarily enslaved to the inconveuiencies of the climate where they were born ? (I. 64 to 7-) Or are we not rather to suppose there is a natural strength in the human mind, that is able to van- quish and break through them ? (I. 72 to 84.) It is confest, however, that men receive an early tincture from the situation they are placed in, and the climate which produces them (1. 84 to 88). Thus the inhabitants of the mountains, inured to labour and patience, are naturally trained to war (1. 88 to 96) ; while those of the plain are more open to any at- tack, and softened by ease and plenty (I. 96 to 99). Again, the iEgyptians, from the nature of their situation, might be the inventors of home-navigation, fronj a necessity of keeping up an intercourse between their towns during the inundation of the Nile (1. 99 to ***). Those persons would naturally have the first turn to commerce, who inhabited a barren coast like the Tyrians, and were persecuted by some neighbouring tyrant ; or were drove to take refuge on some shoals, like tiie Venetian and Hollander ; their discovery of some rich island, in the infancy of the world, described. The Tartar hardened to war by his rigorous climate and pastoral life, and by his disputes for water asui herbage in a country widiout land-marks, as also by skirmishes between his rival clans, was consequently fitted to conquer his rich southern neighbours, whom ease and luxury had enervated : yet this is no proof that liberty and valour may not exist in southern climes, since the Syrians and Car- thaginians gave noble instances of both ; and the Arabians carried their conquests as far as 173 ihe Tartars. Rome also (for many cei)turies) repulsed those very nations, wliitli, \rlien slir grew weak, at length demolished * her extensive enipire. **** • The reader will perceive that the Commentary goes further than the text. Tiie reason for which is, that the Editor found it so on the paper from which he formed that comment! and as the thoughts seemed to be those which Mr. Gray would have next graced with the har- mony of his numbers, he held it best to give them in continuation. There are other maxims on different papers, all apparently relating to the same subject, which are too excellent to be lost; these therefore (as the place in which he meant to employ them cannot be ascertained) I shall subjoin to this note, under the title of detached Sentiments. " Man is a creature not capable of cultivating his mind but in society, and in that only where he is not a slave to the necessities of life. "Want is the mother of the inferior arts, but Ease that of the finer; as eloquence, policv, morality, poetry, sculpture, painting, architecture, which are the improvements of the former. " The climate inclines some nations to contemplation and pleasure; others to hardship, action, and war ; but not so as to incapacitate the former for courage and discipline, or the latter for civility, politeness, and works of genius. " It is the proper work of edocation and government united to redress the faults that arise from the soil and air. " The principal drift of education should be to make men think in the northern climates, and act in the southern. " The different steps and degrees of education may be compared to the artificer's operations upon marble ; it is one thing to dig it out of the quarry, and another to square it ; to give it gloss and lustre, call forth every beautiful spot and vein, shape it into a column, or animate it into a statue. " To a native of free and happy governments his country is always dear; " He loves his old hereditary trees:" (Cowley) while the subject of a tyrant has no country ; he is therefore selfish and base-minded ; he has no family, no posterity, no desire of fame; or, if he has, of one that turns not on its proper object. " Any nation that wants public spirit, neglects education, ridicules the desire of fame, and even of virtue and reason, must be ill governed. " Commerce changes entirely the fate and genius of nations, by connnunicating arts and opinions, circulating money, and introducing the materials of luxury ; she first opens and polishes the mind, then corrupts and enervates both that and the body. " Those invasions of effeminate southern nations by the warlike northern people, seem (in spite of all the terror, mischief, and ignorance which they brought with them) to be necessary evils ; in order to revive the spirit of mankind, softened and broken by the arts of commerce, to restore them to their native liberty and equality, and to give them again the power of sup- porting danger and hardship; so a comet, with all the horrors that attend it as it passes through our system, brings a supply of warmth and light to the sun, and of uioisture to the air. 174 "The doctrine of Epicurus is ever ruinous to society: it had its rise when Greece was de- clining, and perhaps hastened its dissolution, as also that of Uomc; it is now propagated In France and in England, and seems likely to produce the same effect in both. " One principal characteristic of vice in the present age is the contempt of fame. " Many are the uses of good fame to a generous mind : it extends our existence and example into future ages ; continues and propagates virtue, whicli otherwise would be as short-lived as our frame ; and prevents the prevalence of vice in a generation more corrupt even than our own. It is impossible to conquer that natural desire we have of being remembered ; even criminal ambition and avarice, the most selfish of all passions, would wish to leave a name behind them." Thus, with all the attention that a connoisseur in painting employs in collecting every slight outline as well as finished drawing which led to the completion of some capital picture, 1 have endeavoured to preserve every fragment of this great poetical design. It surely deserved this care, as it was one of the noblest which Mr. Gray ever attempted ; and also, as far as he carried it into execution, the most exquisitely finished. That he carried it no further is, and must ever be, a most sensible loss to the republic of letters. Mason. STANZAS MR. B E N T L E Y A FRAGMENT. (See Mason's Memoirs, vol. iii. p. HS.) These were in compliment to Mr. Bentley, who drew a set of designs for Mr. Gray's poems, particularly a head-piece to the Long Story. The original drawings are in the library at Strawberry Hill. See H. Walpole's Works, vol. ii. p. 447. In silent gaze the tuneful choir among, Half plcas'd, half blushing, let the Muse admire, While Bentley leads her sister-art along, And bids the pencil answer to the lyre. See, in their course, each transitory thought Fix'd by his touch a lasting essence take ; NOTES. Ver. 3. JVhile Benlley leads her sister-art alontf\ So Pope in the Epistle to Jervas, 13 : " Smit with the love of sister-arts we came ; And met congenial, mingling flame with flame." 176 Each dream, in fancy's airy colouring wrought To local symmetry and life awake ! The tardy rhymes that us'd to linger on, To censure cold, and negligent of fame, 10 In swifter measures animated run, And catch a lustre from his genuine flame. Ah ! could they catch his strength, his easy grace, His quick creation, his unerring line ; (The energy of Pope they might efface, 15 And Dry den's harmony submit to mine. But not to one in this benighted age Is that diviner inspiration giv'n, That burns in Shakspeare's or in Milton's page. The pomp and prodigality of heav'n. 20 As when conspiring in the diamond's blaze, I'he meaner gems that singly charm the sight, Together dart their intermingled rays, And dazzle with a luxury of light. Enough for me, if to some feeling breast 25 My lines a secret sympathy ' impart ;' NOTES. — Ver. 7. Each dream, infancy's airy colouring wrought] " Thence endless streams of fair ideas flow, Strike on the sketch, or in the picture glow." Pope's Epist. to Jervas, ver. 42. 177 And as their pleasing influence ' flows confest,' A sigh of soft reflection ' heaves the heart/* ^ "Ir Vr ^ ^ -IP "Tp * Tlie words within the inverted commas were siij)plied by Mr. Mason, a corner of the only manuscript copy being torn. VOL. r. 2 a SKETCH OF HIS OWN CHARACTER. WRITTEN IN 1761, AND FOUND IN ONE OF HIS POCKF.T-EOOKS. Too poor for a bribe, and too proud to importune; He bad not the method of making a fortune : Could love, and could hate, so was thought somewhat odd ; No very great wit, he believ'd in a God : A post or a pension he did not desire, 5 But left church and state to Charles Townshend and Squire. NOTES. Vtr. 1 . Too poor for a bribe, and loo proud to imporlune] Tliis is similar to a piissnge in one of Swift's letters to Gay, speaking of poets : " I have been considering wlij- jjoets have such ill success in making their court. They are too libertine to haunt ante-chaniber.«, too poor to bribe porters, and loo proud tn criii[;e to second-hand favourites in a great family " See Pope's Works, xi. SG. ed.Warton. Ver. 4. No very great wit, tie believ'd in a God} " I pay my debts, believe, and say my prayers." Pope's Prologue to the Satires, ver. 268. Ver. 6. Srjiiire] At that time I'ellow of St. John's College, Cambridge, and afterwards Hislioj) of St. David's. 179 Perhaps these Hues of Gray gave a hint to Golclsniilh in the ' Retaliation :' ' Tho' e(iual to all things, for all things unfit, Too nice for a statesman, too proud for a wit ; For a patriot too cool, for a drudge, disobedient, And too fond of the right, to pursue the expedient.' Character of Burke in the ' Retaliation. 2a2 AMATORY LINES. The following Lines, by Gray, first appeared in Warton's edition of Pope, vol. i. p. 285. With beaut}-^, with pleasure surrounded, to languish — To weep without knowing the cause of my anguish : To start from short slumbers, and wish for the morning — To close my dull eyes Avhen I see it returning ; Sighs sudden and frequent, looks ever dejected — Words that steal from my tongue, by no meaning connected ! Ah, say, fellow-swains, how these symptoms befell me.'' They smile, but reply not — Sure Delia will tell me ! As Dr. Wartonlias here favoured us with some manuscript lines by Gray, it will be a species of poetical justice to give the reader some lines from a manuscript of Dr. Warton, A\ hich he intended to insert in his Ode to Fancy, and which are placed within the inverted commas : In converse while metliinks I rove With Spenser through a faiiy grove, ' Or seem by powerful Dante led To the dark chambers of the dead, Or to the ^' **" towers where pine gloomy ' The sous of famish 'd Ugoline ; Or by the Tuscan wizard's power Am wafted to Alcina's bower' Till suddenly, &c. 181 And after the couplet — Oil which thou lov'st to sit at eve, Musing o'er thy darling's grave — Add, from the MS. — ' To whom came trooping at thy call Thy spirits from their airy hail, From sea and earth, from heaven and hell, Stern Hecate, and sweet Ariel.' SON G.* TiiVRsis, when we parted, swore Ere the spring he would return — Ah! what means yon violet flower! And the bud that decks the thorn ! 'Twas the lark that upward sprung ! 5 Twas the nightingale that sung ! Idle notes ! untimely green! Why this unavailing haste ? Western gales and skies serene Speak not always winter past. 10 VARIATIONS. Vcr. 1. Thyrsis, xvhen ive parted'] In Mr. Park's edition, for " when tue parted," it is printed ' when he left me." And for " Ere the spring," " In the spring." Ver. 3. Yon violet Jloiver'] In Mr. Park's edition " the opening floner." Ver. 5. 'Twas the lark'] In Mr. Park's edition, tliis and the following line are transposed. Ver. 8. Why this] In Mr. Park's edition, " why such." Ver. 9. Western, ^fc] In Mr. Park's edition these lines are printed thus: " Gentle gales and sky serene Prove not always winter past." * Written at the request of Miss Speed, to an old air of Gcmiuiani : — the thought from the French. 183 Cease, my doubts, my fears to move, Spare the honour of my love. [This Song is in this edition printed from the copy as it appears in Mr. H. Walpoles letters to the Countess of Ailesbury. See his Works, vol. v. p. 56 1.] T P II E T.* AN EPIGRAM. Thus Tophet look'd ; so grinn'd the brawling jRend, Whilst frighted prelates bow'd and caird him friend. Our mother-church, with half-averted sight, Blush'd as she bless'd her griesly proselyte ; Hosannas rung through hell's tremendous borders, And Satan's self had thoughts of taking orders. * Mr. Etougli, of Cambridge University, the person satirized, was as remarkable for the eccentricities of his character, as for his personal appearance. Mr. Tyson, of Bene't College, made an etching of his head, and presented it to Mr. Gray, who embellished it with the above lines. Some information respecting Mr. Etough, (who was rector of Ther- field, Herts, and of Colmworth, Bedfordshire, and patronized by Sir Robert Walpole,) may be found in the Gentleman's Magazine, vol. Ivi. p. 25, 2S1 ; and in Nichols's Literary Anecdotes of the Eighteenth Century, vol. viii. p. 26l. IMPROMPTU, SUGGESTED BY A VIEW, IN 176G, OF THE SEAT AND RUINS OF A DECEASIiU NOBLEMAN, AT KINGSGATE, KENT.* Old, and abandon'd by each venal friend, Here II d forni'd the pious resolution To smuggle a few years, and strive to mend A broken character and constitution. On this congenial spot he fix'd his choice ; 5 Earl Goodwin trembled for his neighbouring sand ; Here sea-gulls scream, and cormorants rejoice, And mariners, though shipwreck'd, dread to land. Here reign the blustering North and blightins; East, No tree is heard to whisper, bird to sing ; 10 Yet Nature could not furnish out the feast, Art he invokes new horrors still to bring VARIATIONS. Ver. 2. Fonn'd'i Took, Ms. Ver. 3. J] Some, Ms. Vcr. II. Could'] Canuot, MS. NOTES. * Mr. T);ill:i\va), in liis Anecdotes of the Arts, p. 38 j, says that this house was built by Lord Holland as ii correct imitation of Cicero's Formiaii villa, at Baia;. VOL. I. 2 IJ 186 Here mouldering fanes and battlements arise, Turrets and arches nodding to their fall, Un])eopled inonast'ries delude our eyes, 15 And mimic desolation covers all. " Ah !" said the sighing peer, " had B — te been true. Nor M — 's, R — 's, B — 's friendship vain, Far better scenes than these had blest our view. And reali/'d the beauties which we feign: 20 " Purg'd by the sword, aiiti purified by fire, Then had we seen proud London's hated walls ; Owls would have hooted in St. Peter's choir. And foxes stunk and litter'd in St. Paul's." VARIATIONS. Ver. 13. Here"} Now, MS. Ver. H. Turrets and archesj Arches and turrets, ms^ Ver. 15. Monasteries, our] Palaces, his, ms. Ver. 17. B — i] There is no instance in Horace of a broken tcord end- ing the third line of the Alcaic stanza, or, indeed, of its being used at all ; and therefore it must be considered, as not defended by authority; though it may be found ending the third line of the Sapphic stanza, in Horace, I. xxv. 11, I. ii. 19, H. xvi. 7. HI. xxvii. 60. but, I believe, that no example even of this can be found in the Sapphics of Seneca. It ends the first line, in Hor. Od. IV'. ii. 1, and the second line in II. ii. 13, and IV. ii. 22, in « liich latter passage it is to be observed, that the " dirisio vocis" takes place in two successive lines. VcT.SS. Ilecreiit] " Quam sedem Somnia vulg6 Vaiia tenere ferunt, foliisque sub omnibus haerent." Virg. .^n. vi. 283. 2 E 2 212 Phoebea lud (credite) somnia, Argutiusque et lympha et aurae 35 Nescio quid solito loquuntur. FRAGMENT OF A LATIN POEM* ON THE GAURUS. (See Mason's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 145.) Nec procul infelix se tollit in aethera Gaurus, Prospiciens vitreum lugenti vertice pontum: Tristior ille diu, et veteri desuetus oliva Gaurus, pampinescque eheu jam nescius umbrae ; Horrendi tam saeva premit vicinia montis, Attonitumque urget latus, exuritque ferentem. Nam fama est olim, mediA. dum rura silcbant Noctc, Deo victa, et moUi perfusa quiete, NOTES. * Sent by Mr. Gray to his friend West, with a reference to Sandys's Travels, book iv. pag. 275, 277, and 278. A translation of this poem may be seen in the Gent. Mag. for July 1775. Ver. 2. Vitreum] " Vitreo ponto," Hor. Oil. IV. ii. 3. " Vitrca unda," Virg. .En. TJi. 759. Georg. iv. 350. Ver. 4. Pampinecc] " Bacchci vincta madentia Gauri," Statii Silv. III. v. [)[). " Icaiio ncmorosus paUiiite Gaurus," Silv. III. i. 147. \'er. 5. Fremit] " Vicinia Persidis urget," Georg. iv. 290. " Panipincas invidil col- libus umbras," Virg. Ec. vii. j8. 214 Infrcmuisse aequor ponti, auditamque per omnes Lat^ tellurein surdum immugire cavernas : 10 Quo sonitu nemora alta trcmunt ; tremit excita tuto Parthcnopaea sinu, flanimantisque ora Vesevi. At subit6 se aperire solum, vastosquc recessus Pandere sub pedibus, nigraque voragine fauces ; Turn piceas cinerum glomerare sub aethere nubes 1.5 Vorticibus rapidis, ardentique imbre procellara. Preecipites fugere ferae, perque avia long^ Sylvarum fugit pastor, juga per deserta. Ah, miser! increpitans soepe alta voce per umbram Nequicquam natos, creditque audire sequentes. 20 Atcjue ille excelso rupis de vertice solus Rcspcctans notasque domos, et dulcia regna, Nil usquam videt infelix praiter mare tristi Lumine percussum, et pallentes sulphurc campos, Fumumque, flammasque, rotataque turbine saxa. 25 NOTES. Ver. 9. ^quor] " Imniania ponti aequora," Lucret. vi. 624. Ver. 10. Immugire] " Curvisque immugiit MXaa. caveiuis." vEn. iii. 674. Ver. 15. Piceas] " Picea crassam caligiiie nubem," Virg. Geoig. ii. 309. " Vorago, pestiferas apeiit fauces," JEn. vii. 569. Ver. 17. Fugere fere] "Terra tremit: fugere ferae," Virg. Georg. i. 330. Ver. 24. Sulphure] " turn loiigo limite sulcus Dat lucem, et late circiiin loca sulphure fumant." Virg. Bin. ii. 698. And, " Sulplmrei cum per juga consita Gauri," Ausonii Mosell. p. 387. ed. Tollii. Ver. 25. Fumumque] in the modern Latin poetry, this license of lengthening the " que," before the mute and liquid, even with the power of the casura, ought to be avoided, as it is supported by so few examples. See Virg. JEa. vii. 186. Georg. i. l6-i. And see also JEn. iii. 91- Ov. Met. v. 484. 215 Quin ubi detonuit fragor, ct lux reddita coelo ; Maestos confluere agricolas, passuque videres Tandem iterum timido deserta requirere tecta: Spcrantes, si forte oculis, si forte darentur Uxorum cineres, miserorumve ossa parentuni SO (Tenuia, sed tanti saltern solatia luctds) Una colligere et justA, componere in urnfi. Uxorum nusquam cineres, nusquam ossa parentuni (Spem niiseram !) assuetosvc Lares, aut rura videbunt. Quippe ubi planities campi diffusa jacebat ; 35 Mons novus : illc superciliuni, IVontemque faviliri Incanum ostentans, anibustis cautibus, a^quor NOTES. Ver. 26. Detonuit fragor] This is not a common expression in Latin poetry. Val. Flaccus has, " Diim detonet ira:" iv. £94. See also Quintihan (Gesn. XII, ix. 4) : " Cum ilia dicendi vitiosa jactatio inter plausores sero detonuit."' Petronii Sat. c. xvii. p. 37. Ver. 31. Tenuia] See Virg. Georg. i. 397 : " Tenuia nee lana," &c.— ii. 121 : " De- pectant tenuia Seres." Lucret. iv. 747. And Terent. Maur. ver. 474. Ver. 31. Solatia] " Sohitia iuctfis Exigua ingentis niisero sed debita patri." ^n. xi. 62. Ver. 32. Una colligere] I should conceive the proper phrase to be " Colligere in unum," and not xinu. Virg. Eel. vii. 2 : " Compuleraiitque grcges Corydon et Tliyrsis in luiuni." Cicero de Invcntione, i. oO : " Colligere et conferre in unum." Again, " Militibus in unum conductis." And Philip, ix. : " Si omues juris considti in unum con- ferantur." Ovidii Met. iii. 7)5. Ver. S3. Uxorum] " Alas ! Nor wife, nor children, more shall he behold Nor friends, nor sacred home." Thomson'.s Winter, ver. 31.i. 216 Subjectum, stragemque suam, maesta arva, minaci Despicit imperio, soloque in littore regnat. Hinc infaiue loci nomen, multosque per annos 40 Immeinor antiqujE laudis, nescire labores Vomeris, et nullo tellus revirescere cultu. Non avium colles, non carmine matutino Pastorum resonare ; ade6 undique dims habebat Informes lat^ horror agros saltusque vacantes. 45 Sccpius et long^ detorquens navita proram Monstrabat digito littus, saevaeque revolvens Funera narrabat noctis, veteremque ruinam. Montis adhuc facies manet hirta atque aspera saxis : Sed furor extinctus jamdudum, et flamma quievit, .50 Quae nascenti aderat ; seu fort6 bituminis atri Defluxere olim rivi, atque efFoeta lacuna Pabula sufficere ardori, viresque recusat; Sive in visceribus meditans incendia jam nunc (Horrendiim) arcanis glomerat genti esse futurse 55 Exitio, sparsos tacitusque recolligit ignes. Raro per clivos baud secius ordine vidi Canescentem oleam : longum post tempus amicti Vite virent tumuli ; patriamque re\ isere gaudens NOTES. ■Ver.41. Antiqua:] " Res antique laudis," Virg. Georg. ii. 174. Ver. 43. Carmine] " Matulini cantiis," ;En. viii. 45f). Milton's Par. Lost, v. J. Ver. 47. Monstrabat] " Iiidice monstraret digito," Hor. Sat. II. viii. 26. And Pers. i.28. Ver. 56. Sparsos] " Sparsosque recolligit ignes," Lucan. i. 157. " Dum tacitas \'nes, it flammam colligit ignis," Sii. Ital. iv. 307. Ver. 58. Canesreuteni] " Foetum cuiunlis oliviip," Ov. Mel. vi. 81. 217 Bacchus in assuetis tenerum caput exerit arvis 60 Vix tandem, infidoque audet se credere coelo. NOTES. Ver. 60. Caput] " Jam mod6 coerulco nitiduni caput exsere ponto," Ov. Met. xiii. 838. And Fast. i. 458. Ver. 61. Audet'\ " Pennisausus se credere coelo," Virg. ^n.vi. 15. VOL. I. 2 F FAREWELL TO FLORENCE. (See Mason's Memoirs, vol. ii. p.l57.) * * Oh Faesulae amcena Frigoribus juga, nee nimii^m spirantibus auris ! Alma quibus Tusci Pallas deeus Apennini Esse dedit, glaucaque suA, canescere sylva ! Non ego vos posthac Ami de valle videbo Porticibus circum, et candenti cincta corond Villarum lonoe nitido consuroere dorso. NOTES. Ver. 1. Fecsul^l In Sil. Italicus, Pun. viii. 478, the second syllable of this word is short : " Faesula, et antiquus Romanis moeuibus horror." Poljbius also (lib. ii. cap. 9,) writes #ai)' (re irXanjo-r. K-^y yi'ha.a., r\> nv I\y.s, na^r^v aSsXri ae (piXxtrat iiZyi. This little poem has been translated into English verse by Mr. Walpole ; see his Works, vol. iv. p. 454 ; and also by the author of ' The Pleasures of Memory :' see Rogers's Poems, p. Ifi5. ALCAIC ODE,* WRITTEN IN THE ALBUM OF THE GRANDE CHARTREUSE, IN DAUPHINY, AUGUST 174t. (See Mason's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 160.) Oh Tu, severi Religio loci, Quocunque gaudes nomine (non leve Nativa nam certt^ fluenta Numen habet, veteresque sylvas ; NOTES. * In Mr. Heron's [Pinkerton's] ' Letters of Literature,' p. 299, is a translation of this Ode; and after that, a most extraordinary assertion, which I wish the author of that book had not given me an opportunity of producing : as, to say no worse, it is erroneous in every instance. " This exquisite ode," says he, " is by no means in the Alcaic measure, which Mr. Gray seems to have intended it for. The Alcaic measure, us used by Horace, consists of six feet, or twelve syllables, in the two first lines ; three fret and a half, or seven syllables, in the third; and four feet, or eight syllables, in the fourth. ' Truly, Master Holofenics, the epithets are sweetly varied, like a scholar at the least*.' " And yet I am afraid that this ingenious commentator has not experienced how true is the admonition given by the Moorish grammarian : Shaksp. Love's Labour's Lost. 223 Prfesentiorem et conspicimus Deum 5 Per invias rupes, fera per juga, CJivosque praeruptos, sonantes Inter aquas, nemorumque noctem ; Quam si repostus sub trabe citre^ Fulgeret auro, et Phidiacd manu) 10 Salve vocanti rite, fesso et Da placidam juveni quietem. Quod si invidendis sedibus, et frui Fortuna sacr^ lege silentii Vetat volentem, me resorbens 15 In medios violenta fluctus: NOTES. " Quid sit liteia, quid duae, Juncta; quid sibi s)Fllab%. Dumos inter, et aspera Sciuposis sequimur vadis. Fronte exile ncgotium Et diguum pueris putes. Aggressis labor arduus Nee tractabile pandas est." Tcreut. Maui. Praef. G. cd Brissa^o. Ver. 2. Non leve] " Neque enim leva nomen Amatae," Mn. vii. 581. Ver. 0. Per invias'] This verse would be reckoned faulty, from the absence of the cxsura in its right place. See the note to the ' Carmen ad Favonium,' ver. 30. Ver. 8. Noctem'] " Veteris sub tiocte cupressi," Val. Flac. i. 774. " Nox propria luco est," Senecae Thyestes, ver. 67S. Ver. que serenat 60 Cjeruleam faciem, et difFuso marmore ridet. Hand aliter species properant se inferre novellae Certatim menti, atque aditus quino agmine complent. NOTES. " Tuin vapor ipsam, Corporis arcem flammis urit." Senecae CEdip. 185. See also Shakspeare : " And his pure brain, Which some suppose the soul's frail dzeelliiig-house," King John, act v. sc. 7. And see ver. 135 of this Poem. Ver. 51. Tenuia] So Lucretius, iii. 244 : " Qua nee mobilius quidquam neque tenuius exstat." And Virg. Georg. i. 398 : " Tenuia nee lanse per ccclum vellera ferri." Ver. 51. Reruni] " Rerum simulachra ferantur," Lucret iv. l65. " Geminoque facis commercia mundo," Clnud. xxxiii. 91. Ver. 59. Oceanusl " Te tuus Oceanus natali gurgite las$um Excipit," Claud, vii. 176. Ver. 60. Dona] " Dona recognoscit populorum," Virg. j^n. viii. 7^1. Ver. 61. Diffusa] " Diffuse lumine ridet," Lucret. iii. 22. 233 Primas tactus agit partes, piiniusciue minutte Laxat iter caecum lurbce, recipit(|uc rucntcm. 65 Non idem huic modus est, qui fiatribus : amplius ille Imperium affectat senior, penitusque medullis, Visceribusque habitat totis, pellisque recentem Funditur in telam, et late per stamina vivit. Necdum etiam matris puer eluctatus ab alvo 70 Multiplices solvit tunicas, et vincula rupit ; Sopitus molli somno, tepidoque liquore Circumfusus adliuc : tactus tamen aura lacessit Jamduduin ievior sensus, animamque reclusit. Idque magis simul, ac solitum bland um([ue calorem 75 Frigore nmtavit co^li, quod verberat acri Impete inassuetos artus: turn saevior adstat Ilumanaeque comes vitcc Dolor excipit; ille Cunctantem frustra et tremulo multa ore querentem Corripit invadcns, ferreisque amplectitur ulnis. 80 Tum species primum patefacta est Candida Lucis (Usque vices ade(!> Natura boni(iue, malique, Exaequat, justaquc manu sua damna rependit) Tum primum, ignotoscjue bibunt nova lumina soles. NOTES. Ver. CQ. Late per stamina] So Pope's Essay on Man, i. '217 : " The spider's toiicli, so exquisitely fine, Feels at each tliread, and lives along the line." Ver. 70. Puer] " Tum porro puer. — X/iiVx/s ex alfo matris natura profudit," Lucret. V. 223. " Cum veteres ponunt tunicas," Ibid. iv. 56. Ver. 80. Amplt'Ctitiir] " Cu[ndh(\\n^ ampferliliir ufiiis," Ovid. Met. xi. 03. Ver. 81. Species] " Nam s\nm\ ac species patefacta est wrniLdieil" Lucret. i.x. VOL. I. 2 u 234 Carmine ((uo, Dea, tc dicam, gratissima cccVi 85 Progenies, ortiimque tuum ; gcmmantiu rore Ut per prata levi lustras, et floribus halans Piupureum Veris greniium, scenanujue virenteni Pingis, et umbriferos colies, et cjerula regna? Gratia te, Venerisque Lepos, et mille Colorum, 90 Formarumque chorus sequitur, motusque decentes. At caput invisum Stygiis Nox atra tenebris Abdidit, horrcndteque simul Formidinis ora, Pervigilesque aestus Curarum, atquc anxius Anger: Uudique lastitifi florent mortalia corda, 95 Purus et arridet largis fulgoribus iEther. NOTES. Ver. 84. Ignotosque] " Editiis ex utero cants nova lumina seiisit, Et stupet ignotum se ineruisse diem." Claud, xcix. 10. Ver. 85. Call] " Dignissima coeli. Progenies." Achill. Statii, ii. STC. Ver. 88. Purpureum] " Hie Ver purpureum," Virg. Eclog. ix. 41. Ver. 89. Umbriferos] " Umbriferum nemus," Lucret. vi. 703. Ver. 91. Motusque decentes] " Quove color ? dcceiis Quo motus ?" Hor. Od. IV.xiii. 17. Ver. 92. Caput] " Invisum hoc detrude caput sub Tartara," .^n. ix. 476. " Si3gii$ teaebris," Georg. iii. 551. Ver. 93. Horreiichcque] " Subit horrida mentemformido," Sil. Ital. x. 544 ; Lucret. ni. 253. " Curarum fluctuat ffistu," Virg. /En, viii. ly. Ver. 96. Arridet largis] " Iinproviso vibratus ab iEthcre fuigor," Virg. JEn. viii. 524. 235 Omnia nee tu ide6 invalidse se pandere Menti (Quippe nimis teneros posset vis tanta diei Perturbare, et inexpcrtos confundere visus) Nee capere infantes animos, neu cernere eredas 100 Tam variani nioleni, et mirffi speetacula lucis : Nescio qufi tamen haec oculos dulcedine parvos Splendida percussit novitas, traxitque sequentes ; Nonne videmus enim, latis inserta fenestris Sicubi se Phoebi dispergant aurea tela, 105 Sivc lucernaruni rutilus colluxerit ardor, Extemplo hue obverti aeiem, qua3 fixa repertos Haurit inexplctum radios, fruiturque tuendo. Altior huic vero sensu, majorque videtur , Addita, Judicioqiie arete eonnexa potestas, 110 Quod simul atque ajtas volventibus auxerit annis, Hffic simul, assiduo depaseens omnia visu, Perspicict, vis quanta loci, quid polleat ordo, Juneturae quis honos, ut res aceendere rebus Lumina conjurant inter se, et mutua fulgent. 1 15 Nee minor in oeminis viget auribus insita virtus. Nee tantum in curvis qnx pervigil excubet antris Hine at(pie hinc (ubi Vox tremefecerit ostia pulsu Aiiriis invecta rotis) longcque recurset : Seilicet Eloquio ha?c sonitus, hajc fulminis alas, 120 NOTES. Ver. 102. Nescio] " Nescio qua pneter solitum dulcedine laeti," Virg. Georg. i. 413. Ver. 104. Iiiserta] " Plena per inscrtas fundebat luna fenestras," Virg. ^Eu, iii. 152. Ver. 105. Te/a] " Lucida tela diei," Lucret. i. 128. Ver. 108. Ilauril] " E.rplei i mciUein ncquit, didnsckqac titeiido," Virg. ^u. i. 7 13. Ver. 113. Polleat] " TanUiin series, jH«(-it," Liicret. ii, 412. Ver. 128. Jucunda] " Jucundos sapores," Tibull. I. vii. 3.5. Ver. 130. Odoni'] "Odora canum vis," Lucret vi. 778. Virg. -En. iv. 132. Ver. 132. Florfcve} Compare Milton's Par. Lost, book v, iG: "Then with voice, mild as \\ hen Zephyrus on Flora breathes." Ver. 134. Respondet] " Votis respondet avari," Georg. i. 43. " Divinum adspirat ainorem," Virg. .En. viii. 373. Ver. 137. Vivata] " Vivata potestas," Lucret. iii. 410. 557. 680. Ver. 139. Animus] " Animus vario labefactus vulnere nutat Hue levjs, atque illiic ; momentaque sumit utroquc." Ovid. Met. K. 375. 237 Quid vclit, aut possit, cupiat, fugiatve, vicisshn 140 Percipit iinperio gaiulens ; neque corpora falluat Morigera ad celeres actus, ac numina mentis. Quails Hamadryad urn quondam si fort6 sororum Una, novos peragrans saltus, et devia rura ; (Atquc illani in viridi suadct procumbere ripA 145 Fontis pura quies, ct opaci frigoris umbra) Dum prona in laticcs speculi de niargine pcndet, IMirata est subitam venienti occurrcre Nympham : Mox eosdcni, quos ipsa, artus, eadem ora gerentem UniV int'ene gradus, una succedere sylvae loO Aspicit alludens ; seseque agnoscit in undis. Sic sensu interno rerum simulacra suarum Mens ciet, et proprios observat conscia vultus. Ncc verO) simplex ratio, aut jus omnibus ununi Constat imaginibus. Sunt qua; bina ostia norunt ; \55 Hae privos servant aditus ; sine legibus illee Passim, qua data porta, ruunt, animoque propinquant. Respice, cui a cunis tristes extinxit occllos, Sa^va et in eternas mersit natura tenebras : Illi ignota dies lucet, vcrn usque colorum 160 OtTusus nitor est, et vivae gratia formae. Corporis at (ilum, et motus, spatiumque, locique Intcrvalla datur certo dignoscerc tactu : NOTES \'i r. 147. Sprni/i] " Lympliarum in speculo," Phipdriis, I. iv. 3. Vcr. 1 4fJ. Eosi]r>/ii] The s:imf sviirere' ivSa. xvvuv ^uOiuv x.y.a.yyeZffiv •j'ku.yf/,ot, ' AvTOt.'^iig i^VCCIpUV cLypOTiPoi'J KiXcioi). FINIS. S. Hamilton, Printer, Wcylriilgc, Surrey. SOUTHFRW ocof^*y °' California Return .His^'^aTert'l^'^e'^LT'"''" ."J£2« J 3 1158 01202 UC SOimfRN RfGWl '.»R*RV CACIVTV D 000 703 152 9