ticisms on his Homer, which do honour to his taste and acuteness. The Poet's reply may also be regarded as a proof of his kind condescension, and amiable sweetness of temper. TO WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ. Eartham, March 4, 1793. Honoured King of Bards-Since you deign to demand the observations of an humble and unexperienced servant of yours, on a work of one who is so much his superior, (as he is ever ready to serve you with all his might,) behold what you demand! but let me desire you not to censure me for my unskilful and perhaps (as they will undoubtedly appear to you) ridiculous observations; but be so kind as to receive them as a mark of respectful affection from Your obedient servant, Book. Line. THOMAS HAYLEY. I cannot reconcile myself to these expressions, "Ah cloth'd with impudence, &c." and "Shameless wolf," and "Face of flint." I. 508 1. 651 I. 749 11. XVIII. 317 to 319 "Dishonour'd foul," is, in my opinion, an uncleanly expression. "Reel'd," I think makes it appear as if Olympus was drunk. Kindler of the fires of Heaven," I think makes Jupiter appear too much like a lamp-lighter. These lines are, in my opinion, below the 300 This appears to me to be rather Irish, since VOL. V. K TO MR. THOMAS HAYLEY. Weston, March 14, 1793. My dear Little Critic-I thank you heartily for your observations, on which I set a higher value, because they have instructed me as much, and have entertained me more, than all the other strictures of our public judges in these matters. Perhaps I am not much more pleased with shameless wolf, &c. than you. But what is to be done, my little man? Coarse as the expressions are, they are no more than equivalent to those of Homer. The invective of the ancients was never tempered with good manners, as your papa can tell you; and my business, you know, is not to be more polite than my author, but to represent him as closely as I can. Dishonour'd foul I have wiped away, for the reason you give, which is a very just one, and the present reading is this, Who had dared dishonour thus The life itself, &c. Your objection to kindler of the fires of heaven I had the good fortune to anticipate, and expunged the dirty ambiguity some time since, wondering not a little that I had ever admitted it. The fault you find with the two first verses of Nestor's speech discovers such a degree of just discernment that, but for your papa's assurance to the contrary, I must have suspected him as the author of that remark: much as I should have respected it, if it had been so, I value it, I assure you, my little friend, still more as yours. In the new edition the passage will be found thus altered; Alas! great sorrow falls on Greece to-day! Priam, and Priam's sons, with all in TroyOh how will they exult, and in their hearts Triumph, once hearing of this broil between The prime of Greece, in council and in arms! Where the word reel suggests to you the idea of a drunken mountain, it performs the service to which I destined it. It is a bold metaphor; but justified by one of the sublimest passages in scripture, compared with the sublimity of which even that of Homer suffers humiliation. It is God himself who, speaking, I think, by the prophet Isaiah, says, "The earth shall reel to and fro like a drunkard.”* With equal boldness in the same scripture, the poetry of which was never equalled, mountains are skip, to break out into singing, and the fields to clap their hands. I intend, therefore, that my Olympus shall be still tipsy. The accuracy of your last remark, in which you convicted me of a bull, delights me. A fig for all critics but you! The blockheads could not find it. It shall stand thus, First spake Polydamas―― Homer was more upon his guard than to commit such a blunder, for he says, ηρχ ̓ ἀγορεύειν. And now, my dear little censor, once more accept my thanks. I only regret that your strictures are so few, being just and sensible as they are. Tell your papa that he shall hear from me soon: * Isaiah xxiv. 20. accept mine, and my dear invalid's affectionate remembrances. Ever yours, W. C. TO WILLIAM HAYLEY, ESQ. Weston, March 19, 1793. My dear Hayley-I am so busy every morning before breakfast (my only opportunity) strutting and stalking in Homeric stilts, that you ought to account it an instance of marvellous grace and favour, that I condescend to write even to you. Sometimes I am seriously almost crazed with the multiplicity of the matters before me, and the little or no time that I have for them; and sometimes I repose myself, after the fatigue of that distraction, on the pillow of despair; a pillow, which has often served me in the time of need, and is become, by frequent use, if not very comfortable, at least convenient. So reposed, I laugh at the world, and say, "Yes, you may gape and expect both Homer and Milton from me, but I'll be hanged if ever you get them." In Homer you must know I am advanced as far as the fifteenth book of the Iliad, leaving nothing behind me that can reasonably offend the most fastidious; and I design him for public appearance in his new dress as soon as possible, for a reason which any poet may guess, if he will but thrust his hand into his pocket. You forbid me to tantalize you with an invitation' to Weston, and yet invite me to Eartham!-No! no! there is no such happiness in store for me at present. Had I rambled at all, I was under promise to all my dear mother's kindred to go to Norfolk, and they are dying to see me but I have told them that die they must, for I cannot go; and ergo, as you will perceive, can go no where else. Thanks for Mazarin's epitaph!* it is full of witty paradox, and is written with a force and severity which sufficiently bespeak the author. I account it an inestimable curiosity, and shall be happy when time shall serve, with your aid, to make a good We have not been able to discover this epitaph, nor does it appear that it was ever translated by Cowper. Cardinal Mazarin was minister of state to Louis XIII, and during the minority of Louis XIV. The last moments of this great statesman are too edifying not to be recorded. To the ecclesiastic (Joly) who attended him, he said, "I am not satisfied with my state; I wish to feel a more profound sorrow for my sins. I am a great sinner. I have no hope but in the mercy of God." (Je suis un grand criminel, je n'ai d'espérance qu'en la miséricorde divine.) At another time he besought his confessor to treat him like the lowest subject in the realm, being convinced, he said, that there was but one gospel for the great, as well as for the little. (Qu'il n'y avoit qu'un Evangile pour les grands, et pour les petits.) His sufferings were very acute. 'You see," he observed to those around him, "what infirmities and wretchedness the fortunes and dignities of this world come to." He repeated many times the Miserere, (Ps. li.) stretching forth his hands, then clasping them, and lifting up his eyes to heaven, with all the marks of the most sincere devotion. At midnight he exclaimed, "I am dying-my mind grows indistinct. I trust in Jesus Christ." (Je vais bientôt mourir, mon jugement se trouble, j'espère en Jésus Christ.) Afterwards, frequently repeating the sacred name of Jesus, he expired. (Se mettant en devoir de répéter aussi fréquemment le très-saint nom de Jésus, il expira.) Histoire du Card. Mazarin, par M. Aubery. |