No More Learning

]

[Footnote 2:
Aulus Persius Flaccus died in the 30th year of his age, A. D. 62. --ED. ]

[Footnote 3:
Aurelius Prudentius Clemens was born A. D. 348, in Spain. --ED. ]

* * * * *

How very pretty are those lines of Hermesianax in Athenaeus about the poets
and poetesses of Greece! [1]

[Footnote 1:
See the fragment from the Leontium:--

[Greek: HOi_en men philos huios an_egagen Oiagrhoio
Agrhiop_en, THr_essan steilamenos kithar_en
Aidothen k. t. l. ] _Athen_. xiii. s. 71--ED]


September 4. 1833.

DESTRUCTION OF JERUSALEM. --EPIC POEM. --GERMAN
AND ENGLISH. --MODERN TRAVELS. --PARADISE
LOST.

I have already told you that in my opinion the destruction of Jerusalem is
the only subject now left for an epic poem of the highest kind. Yet, with
all its great capabilities, it has this one grand defect--that, whereas a
poem, to be epic, must have a personal interest,--in the destruction of
Jerusalem no genius or skill could possibly preserve the interest for the
hero from being merged in the interest for the event. The fact is, the
event itself is too sublime and overwhelming.

* * * * *

In my judgment, an epic poem must either be national or mundane. As to
Arthur, you could not by any means make a poem on him national to
Englishmen. What have _we_ to do with him? Milton saw this, and with a
judgment at least equal to his genius, took a mundane theme--one common to
all mankind. His Adam and Eve are all men and women inclusively. Pope
satirizes Milton for making God the Father talk like a school divine. [1]
Pope was hardly the man to criticize Milton. The truth is, the judgment of
Milton in the conduct of the celestial part of his story is very exquisite.
Wherever God is represented as directly acting as Creator, without any
exhibition of his own essence, Milton adopts the simplest and sternest
language of the Scriptures. He ventures upon no poetic diction, no
amplification, no pathos, no affection. It is truly the Voice or the Word
of the Lord coming to, and acting on, the subject Chaos. But, as some
personal interest was demanded for the purposes of poetry, Milton takes
advantage of the dramatic representation of God's address to the Son, the
Filial Alterity, and in _those addresses_ slips in, as it were by stealth,
language of affection, or thought, or sentiment. Indeed, although Milton
was undoubtedly a high Arian in his mature life, he does in the necessity
of poetry give a greater objectivity to the Father and the Son, than he
would have justified in argument. He was very wise in adopting the strong
anthropomorphism of the Hebrew Scriptures at once. Compare the Paradise
Lost with Klopstock's Messiah, and you will learn to appreciate Milton's
judgment and skill quite as much as his genius.

[Footnote 1:

"Milton's strong pinion now not Heav'n can bound,
Now, serpent-like, in prose he sweeps the ground;
In quibbles angel and archangel join,
And God the Father turns a school divine. "

1 Epist. 2d book of Hor. v. 99. ]

* * * * *

The conquest of India by Bacchus might afford scope for a very brilliant
poem of the fancy and the understanding.

* * * * *

It is not that the German can express external imagery more _fully_ than
English; but that it can flash more images _at once_ on the mind than the
English can. As to mere power of expression, I doubt whether even the Greek
surpasses the English. Pray, read a very pleasant and acute dialogue in
Schlegel's Athenaeum between a German, a Greek, a Roman, Italian, and a
Frenchman, on the merits of their respective languages.

* * * * *

I wish the naval and military officers who write accounts of their travels
would just spare us their sentiment. The Magazines introduced this cant.
Let these gentlemen read and imitate the old captains and admirals, as
Dampier, &c.



October 15. 1833.

THE TRINITY. --INCARNATION. --REDEMPTION. --EDUCATION.


The Trinity is the idea: the Incarnation, which implies the Fall, is the
fact: the Redemption is the mesothesis of the two--that is--the religion.

* * * * *

If you bring up your children in a way which puts them out of sympathy with
the religious feelings of the nation in which they live, the chances are,
that they will ultimately turn out ruffians or fanatics--and one as likely
as the other.



October 23. 1833.

ELEGY. --LAVACRUM PALLADOS. --GREEK AND LATIN PENTAMETER. --MILTON'S LATIN
POEMS. --POETICAL FILTER. --GRAY AND COTTON.


Elegy is the form of poetry natural to the reflective mind. It _may_ treat
of any subject, but it must treat of no subject _for itself_; but always
and exclusively with reference to the poet himself. As he will feel regret
for the past or desire for the future, so sorrow and love become the
principal themes of elegy. Elegy presents every thing as lost and gone, or
absent and future. The elegy is the exact opposite of the Homeric epic, in
which all is purely external and objective, and the poet is a mere voice.

The true lyric ode is subjective too; but then it delights to present
things as actually existing and visible, although associated with the past,
or coloured highly by the subject of the ode itself.

* * * * *

I think the Lavacrum Pallados of Callimachus very beautiful indeed,
especially that part about the mother of Tiresias and Minerva. [1] I have a
mind to try how it would bear translation; but what metre have we to answer
in feeling to the elegiac couplet of the Greeks?

I greatly prefer the Greek rhythm of the short verse to Ovid's, though,
observe, I don't dispute his taste with reference to the genius of his own
language. Augustus Schlegel gave me a copy of Latin elegiacs on the King of
Prussia's going down the Rhine, in which he had almost exclusively adopted
the manner of Propertius. I thought them very elegant.

[Footnote 1:
Greek:
Paides, Athanaia numphan mian en poka Th_ezais
po_olu ti kai pezi d_e philato tan hetezan,
mateza Teizesiao, kai oupoka ch_ozis egento k. t. l.
v 57, &c. ]

* * * * *

You may find a few minute faults in Milton's Latin verses; but you will not
persuade me that, if these poems had come down to us _as_ written in the
age of Tiberius, we should not have considered them to be very beautiful.

* * * * *

I once thought of making a collection,--to be called "The Poetical
Filter,"--upon the principle of simply omitting from the old pieces of
lyrical poetry which we have, those parts in which the whim or the bad
taste of the author or the fashion of his age prevailed over his genius.
You would be surprised at the number of exquisite _wholes_ which might be
made by this simple operation, and, perhaps, by the insertion of a single
line or half a line, out of poems which are now utterly disregarded on
account of some odd or incongruous passages in them;--just as whole volumes
of Wordsworth's poems were formerly neglected or laughed at, solely because
of some few wilfulnesses, if I may so call them, of that great man--whilst
at the same time five sixths of his poems would have been admired, and
indeed popular, if they had appeared without those drawbacks, under the
name of Byron or Moore or Campbell, or any other of the fashionable
favourites of the day. But he has won the battle now, ay! and will wear the
crown, whilst English is English.

* * * * *

I think there is something very majestic in Gray's Installation Ode; but as
to the Bard and the rest of his lyrics, I must say I think them frigid and
artificial. There is more real lyric feeling in Cotton's Ode on Winter. [1]

[Footnote 1:
Let me borrow Mr. Wordsworth's account of, and quotation from, this poem:--

"Finally, I will refer to Cotton's 'Ode upon Winter,' an admirable
composition, though stained with some peculiarities of the age in which he
lived, for a general illustration of the characteristics of Fancy. The
middle part of this ode contains a most lively description of the entrance
of Winter, with his retinue, as 'a palsied king,' and yet a military
monarch, advancing for conquest with his army; the several bodies of which,
and their arms and equipments, are described with a rapidity of detail, and
a profusion of _fanciful_ comparisons, which indicate, on the part of the
poet, extreme activity of intellect, and a correspondent hurry of
delightful feeling. He retires from the foe into his fortress, where--

a magazine
Of sovereign juice is cellared in;
Liquor that will the siege maintain
Should Phoebus ne'er return again. "

Though myself a water-drinker, I cannot resist the pleasure of transcribing
what follows, as an instance still more happy of Fancy employed in the
treatment of feeling than, in its preceding passages, the poem supplies of
her management of forms.

'Tis that, that gives the Poet rage,
And thaws the gelly'd blood of Age;
Matures the Young, restores the Old,
And makes the fainting coward bold.

It lays the careful head to rest,
Calms palpitations in the breast,
Renders our lives' misfortune sweet;

* * * * *

Then let the _chill_ Scirocco blow,
And gird us round with hills of snow;
Or else go whistle to the shore,
And make the hollow mountains roar:

Whilst we together jovial sit
Careless, and crowned with mirth and wit;
Where, though bleak winds confine us home,
Our fancies round the world shall roam.

We'll think of all the friends we know,
And drink to all worth drinking to;
When, having drunk all thine and mine,
We rather shall want healths than wine.

But where friends fail us, we'll supply
Our friendships with our charity;
Men that remote in sorrows live
Shall by our lusty brimmers thrive.

We'll drink the wanting into wealth,
And those that languish into health,
Th' afflicted into joy, th' opprest
Into security and rest.

The worthy in disgrace shall find
Favour return again more kind,
And in restraint who stifled lie
Shall taste the air of liberty.

The brave shall triumph in success,
The lovers shall have mistresses,
Poor unregarded virtue, praise,
And the neglected poet, bays.

Thus shall our healths do others good,
Whilst we ourselves do all we would;
For, freed from envy and from care,
What would we be but what we are?

_Preface to the editions of Mr. W. 's Poems, in_
1815 and 1820. --ED. ]



_November_ 1. 1833.

HOMERIC HEROES IN SHAKSPEARE. --DRYDEN. --DR. JOHNSON. --SCOTT'S NOVELS. --
SCOPE OF CHRISTIANITY.


Compare Nestor, Ajax, Achilles, &c. in the Troilus and Cressida of
Shakspeare with their namesakes in the Iliad. The old heroes seem all to
have been at school ever since. I scarcely know a more striking instance of
the strength and pregnancy of the Gothic mind.

Dryden's genius was of that sort which catches fire by its own motion; his
chariot wheels _get_ hot by driving fast.

* * * * *

Dr. Johnson seems to have been really more powerful in discoursing _viva
voce_ in conversation than with his pen in hand. It seems as if the
excitement of company called something like reality and consecutiveness
into his reasonings, which in his writings I cannot see. His antitheses are
almost always verbal only; and sentence after sentence in the Rambler may
be pointed out to which you cannot attach any definite meaning whatever. In
his political pamphlets there is more truth of expression than in his other
works, for the same reason that his conversation is better than his
writings in general. He was more excited and in earnest.

* * * * *

When I am very ill indeed, I can read Scott's novels, and they are almost
the only books I can then _read_. I cannot at such times read the Bible; my
mind reflects on it, but I can't bear the open page.

* * * * *

Unless Christianity be viewed and felt in a high and comprehensive way, how
large a portion of our intellectual and moral nature does it leave without
object and action!

* * * * *

Let a young man separate I from Me as far as he possibly can, and remove Me
till it is almost lost in the remote distance. "I am me," is as bad a fault
in intellectuals and morals as it is in grammar, whilst none but one--God--
can say, "I am I," or "That I am. "



_November_ 9. 1833.

TIMES OF CHARLES I.


How many books are still written and published about Charles the First and
his times! Such is the fresh and enduring interest of that grand crisis of
morals, religion, and government! But these books are none of them works of
any genius or imagination; not one of these authors seems to be able to
throw himself back into that age; if they did, there would be less praise
and less blame bestowed on both sides.



_December_ 21. 1833.

MESSENGER OF THE COVENANT--PROPHECY. --LOGIC OF IDEAS AND OF SYLLOGISMS.


When I reflect upon the subject of the messenger of the covenant, and
observe the distinction taken in the prophets between the teaching and
suffering Christ,--the Priest, who was to precede, and the triumphant
Messiah, the Judge, who was to follow,--and how Jesus always seems to speak
of the Son of Man in a future sense, and yet always at the same time as
identical with himself; I sometimes think that our Lord himself in his
earthly career was the Messenger; and that the way is _now still preparing_
for the great and visible advent of the Messiah of Glory. I mention this
doubtingly.

* * * * *

What a beautiful sermon or essay might be written on the growth of
prophecy! --from the germ, no bigger than a man's hand, in Genesis, till the
column of cloud gathers size and height and substance, and assumes the
shape of a perfect man; just like the smoke in the Arabian Nights' tale,
which comes up and at last takes a genie's shape. [1]

[Footnote 1:
The passage in Mr. Coleridge's mind was, I suppose, the following:--"He
(the fisherman) set it before him, and while he looked upon it attentively,
there came out a very thick smoke, which obliged him to retire two or three
paces from it. The smoke ascended to the clouds, and extending itself along
the sea, and upon the shore, formed a great mist, which, we may well
imagine, did mightily astonish the fisherman. When the smoke was all out of
the vessel, it reunited itself, and became a solid body, of which there was
formed a genie twice as high as the greatest of giants. " _Story of the
Fisherman_. Ninth Night. --ED. ]

* * * * *

The logic of ideas is to that of syllogisms as the infinitesimal calculus
to common arithmetic; it proves, but at the same time supersedes.



_January_ 1. 1834.

LANDOR'S POETRY. --BEAUTY. --CHRONOLOGICAL ARRANGEMENT OF WORKS.


What is it that Mr. Landor wants, to make him a poet? His powers are
certainly very considerable, but he seems to be totally deficient in that
modifying faculty, which compresses several units into one whole. The truth
is, he does not possess imagination in its highest form,--that of stamping
_il piu nell' uno_. Hence his poems, taken as wholes, are unintelligible;
you have eminences excessively bright, and all the ground around and
between them in darkness. Besides which, he has never learned, with all his
energy, how to write simple and lucid English.

* * * * *

The useful, the agreeable, the beautiful, and the good, are
distinguishable. You are wrong in resolving beauty into expression or
interest; it is quite distinct; indeed it is opposite, although not
contrary. Beauty is an immediate presence, between (_inter_) which and the
beholder _nihil est_. It is always one and tranquil; whereas the
interesting always disturbs and is disturbed. I exceedingly regret the loss
of those essays on beauty, which I wrote in a Bristol newspaper. I would
give much to recover them.

* * * * *

After all you can say, I still think the chronological order the best for
arranging a poet's works. All your divisions are in particular instances
inadequate, and they destroy the interest which arises from watching the
progress, maturity, and even the decay of genius.



_January_ 3. 1834.

TOLERATION. --NORWEGIANS.


I have known books written on Tolerance, the proper title of which would
be--intolerant or intolerable books on tolerance. Should not a man who
writes a book expressly to inculcate tolerance learn to treat with respect,
or at least with indulgence, articles of faith which tens of thousands ten
times told of his fellow-subjects or his fellow-creatures believe with all
their souls, and upon the truth of which they rest their tranquillity in
this world, and their hopes of salvation in the next,--those articles being
at least maintainable against his arguments, and most certainly innocent in
themselves? --Is it fitting to run Jesus Christ in a silly parallel with
Socrates--the Being whom thousand millions of intellectual creatures, of
whom I am a humble unit, take to be their Redeemer, with an Athenian
philosopher, of whom we should know nothing except through his
glorification in Plato and Xenophon? --And then to hitch Latimer and
Servetus together! To be sure there was a stake and a fire in each case,
but where the rest of the resemblance is I cannot see. What ground is there
for throwing the odium of Servetus's death upon Calvin alone? --Why, the
mild Melancthon wrote to Calvin[1], expressly to testify his concurrence in
the act, and no doubt he spoke the sense of the German reformers; the Swiss
churches _advised_ the punishment in formal letters, and I rather think
there are letters from the English divines, approving Calvin's conduct! --
Before a man deals out the slang of the day about the great leaders of the
Reformation, he should learn to throw himself back to the age of the
Reformation, when the two great parties in the church were eagerly on the
watch to fasten a charge of heresy on the other. Besides, if ever a poor
fanatic thrust, himself into the fire, it was Michael Servetus. He was a
rabid enthusiast, and did every thing he could in the way of insult and
ribaldry to provoke the feeling of the Christian church. He called the
Trinity _triceps monstrum et Cerberum quendam tripartitum_, and so on.

Indeed, how should the principle of religious toleration have been
acknowledged at first? --It would require stronger arguments than any which
I have heard as yet, to prove that men in authority have not a right,
involved in an imperative duty, to deter those under their control from
teaching or countenancing doctrines which they believe to be damnable, and
even to punish with death those who violate such prohibition. I am sure
that Bellarmine would have had small difficulty in turning Locke round his
fingers' ends upon this ground. A _right_ to protection I can understand;
but a _right_ to toleration seems to me a contradiction in terms. Some
criterion must in any case be adopted by the state; otherwise it might be
compelled to admit whatever hideous doctrine and practice any man or number
of men may assert to be his or their religion, and an article of his or
their faith. It was the same Pope who commanded the Romanists of England to
separate from the national church, which previously their own consciences
had not dictated, nor the decision of any council,--and who also commanded
them to rebel against Queen Elizabeth, whom they were bound to obey by the
laws of the land; and if the Pope had authority for one, he must have had
it for the other. The only true argument, as it seems to me, apart from
Christianity, for a discriminating toleration is, that _it is of no use_ to
attempt to stop heresy or schism by persecution, unless, perhaps, it be
conducted upon the plan of direct warfare and massacre. You _cannot_
preserve men in the faith by such means, though you may stifle for a while
any open appearance of dissent. The experiment has now been tried, and it
has failed; and that is by a great deal the best argument for the
magistrate against a repetition of it.

I know this,--that if a parcel of fanatic missionaries were to go to
Norway, and were to attempt to disturb the fervent and undoubting
Lutheranism of the fine independent inhabitants of the interior of that
country, I should be right glad to hear that the busy fools had been
quietly shipped off--any where. I don't include the people of the seaports
in my praise of the Norwegians;--I speak of the agricultural population. If
that country could be brought to maintain a million more of inhabitants,
Norway might defy the world; it would be [Greek: autarhk_as] and
impregnable; but it is much under-handed now.

[Footnote 1:
Melancthon's words are:--"Tuo judicio prorsus assentior.
Affirmo
etiam vestros magistratus juste fecisse quod hominem blasphemum, re
ordine judicata, _interfecerunt_. " 14th Oct. 1554. --ED. ]



_January_ 12. 1834.

ARTICLES OF FAITH. --MODERN QUAKERISM. --DEVOTIONAL
SPIRIT. --SECTARIANISM. --ORIGEN.


I have drawn up four or perhaps five articles of faith, by subscription, or
rather by assent, to which I think a large comprehension might take place.
My articles would exclude Unitarians, and I am sorry to say, members of the
church of Rome, but with this difference--that the exclusion of Unitarians
would be necessary and perpetual; that of the members of the church of Rome
depending on each individual's own conscience and intellectual light. What
I mean is this:--that the Romanists hold the faith in Christ,--but
unhappily they also hold certain opinions, partly ceremonial, partly
devotional, partly speculative, which have so fatal a facility of being
degraded into base, corrupting, and even idolatrous practices, that if the
Romanist will make _them_ of the essence of his religion, he must of course
be excluded. As to the Quakers, I hardly know what to say. An article on
the sacraments would exclude them. My doubt is, whether Baptism and the
Eucharist are properly any _parts_ of Christianity, or not rather
Christianity itself;--the one, the initial conversion or light,--the other,
the sustaining and invigorating life;--both together the [Greek: ph_os ahi
z_oh_a], which are Christianity. A line can only begin once; hence, there
can be no repetition of baptism; but a line may be endlessly prolonged by
continued production; hence the sacrament of love and life lasts for ever.

But really there is no knowing what the modern Quakers are, or believe,
excepting this--that they are altogether degenerated from their ancestors
of the seventeenth century. I should call modern Quakerism, so far as I
know it as a scheme of faith, a Socinian Calvinism. Penn himself was a
Sabellian, and seems to have disbelieved even the historical fact of the
life and death of Jesus;--most certainly Jesus of Nazareth was not Penn's
Christ, if he had any. It is amusing to see the modern Quakers appealing
now to history for a confirmation of their tenets and discipline--and by so
doing, in effect abandoning the strong hold of their founders. As an
_imperium in imperio_, I think the original Quakerism a conception worthy
of Lycurgus. Modern Quakerism is like one of those gigantic trees which are
seen in the forests of North America,--apparently flourishing, and
preserving all its greatest stretch and spread of branches; but when you
cut through an enormously thick and gnarled bark, you find the whole inside
hollow and rotten. Modern Quakerism, like such a tree, stands upright by
help of its inveterate bark alone. _Bark_ a Quaker, and he is a poor
creature.

* * * * *

How much the devotional spirit of the church has suffered by that necessary
evil, the Reformation, and the sects which have sprung up subsequently to
it! All our modern prayers seem tongue-tied. We appear to be thinking more
of avoiding an heretical expression or thought than of opening ourselves to
God. We do not pray with that entire, unsuspecting, unfearing, childlike
profusion of feeling, which so beautifully shines forth in Jeremy Taylor
and Andrewes and the writings of some of the older and better saints of the
Romish church, particularly of that remarkable woman, St. Theresa. [1] And
certainly Protestants, in their anxiety to have the historical argument on
their side, have brought down the origin of the Romish errors too late.
Many of them began, no doubt, in the Apostolic age itself;--I say errors--
not heresies, as that dullest of the fathers, Epiphanius, calls them.
Epiphanius is very long and fierce upon the Ebionites. There may have been
real heretics under that name; but I believe that, in the beginning, the
name was, on account of its Hebrew meaning, given to, or adopted by, some
poor mistaken men--perhaps of the Nazarene way--who sold all their goods
and lands, and were then obliged to beg. I think it not improbable that
Barnabas was one of these chief mendicants; and that the collection made by
St. Paul was for them. You should read Rhenferd's account of the early
heresies. I think he demonstrates about eight of Epiphanius's heretics to
be mere nicknames given by the Jews to the Christians. Read "Hermas, or the
Shepherd," of the genuineness of which and of the epistle of Barnabas I
have no doubt. It is perfectly orthodox, but full of the most ludicrous
tricks of gnostic fancy--the wish to find the New Testament in the Old.
This gnosis is perceptible in the Epistle to the Hebrews, but kept
exquisitely within the limit of propriety. In the others it is rampant, and
most truly "puffeth up," as St. Paul said of it.

What between the sectarians and the political economists, the English are
denationalized. England I see as a country, but the English nation seems
obliterated. What could redintegrate us again? Must it be another threat of
foreign invasion?

[Footnote 1:
She was a native of Avila in Old Castile, and a Carmelite nun. Theresa
established an order which she called the "Reformed," and which became very
powerful. Her works are divided into ten books, of which her autobiography
forms a remarkable part. She died in 1582, and was canonised by Gregory XV.
in 1622--ED. ]

* * * * *

I never can digest the loss of most of Origen's works: he seems to have
been almost the only very great scholar and genius combined amongst the
early Fathers. Jerome was very inferior to him.



_January_ 20. 1834.

SOME MEN LIKE MUSICAL GLASSES. --SUBLIME AND NONSENSE. --ATHEIST.


Some men are like musical glasses;--to produce their finest tones, you must
keep them wet.

* * * * *

Well! that passage is what I call the sublime dashed to pieces by cutting
too close with the fiery four-in-hand round the corner of nonsense.

* * * * *

How did the Atheist get his idea of that God whom he denies?



_February_ 22. 1834.

PROOF OF EXISTENCE OF GOD. --KANT'S ATTEMPT. --PLURALITY
OF WORLDS.


Assume the existence of God,--and then the harmony and fitness of the
physical creation may be shown to correspond with and support such an
assumption;--but to set about _proving_ the existence of a God by such
means is a mere circle, a delusion. It can be no proof to a good reasoner,
unless he violates all syllogistic logic, and presumes his conclusion.

Kant once set about proving the existence of God, and a masterly effort it
was. * But in his later great work, the "Critique of the Pure Reason," he
saw its fallacy, and said of it--that _if_ the existence could he _proved_
at all, it must be on the grounds indicated by him.

* * * * *

I never could feel any force in the arguments for a plurality of worlds, in
the common acceptation of that term. A lady once asked me--"What then could
be the intention in creating so many great bodies, so apparently useless to
us? " I said--I did not know, except perhaps to make dirt cheap. The vulgar
inference is _in alio genere_. What in the eye of an intellectual and
omnipotent Being is the whole sidereal system to the soul of one man for
whom Christ died?



_March_ 1. 1834.

A REASONER.


I am by the law of my nature a reasoner. A person who should suppose I
meant by that word, an arguer, [1] would not only not understand me, but
would understand the contrary of my meaning. I can take no interest
whatever in hearing or saying any thing merely as a fact--merely as having
happened. It must refer to something within me before I can regard it with
any curiosity or care. My mind is always energic--I don't mean energetic; I
require in every thing what, for lack of another word, I may call
_propriety_,--that is, a reason why the thing _is_ at all, and why it is
_there_ or _then_ rather than elsewhere or at another time.

[Footnote 1:
In his essay, "_Der einzig mogliche Beweisgrund zu einer Demonstration des
Daseyns Gottes_. "--"The only possible argument or ground of proof for a
demonstration of the existence of God. " It was published in 1763; the
"Critique" in 1781. --ED. ]



_March_ 5. 1834.

SHAKSPEARE'S INTELLECTUAL ACTION. --CRABBE AND
SOUTHEY. --PETER SIMPLE AND TOM CRINGLE'S LOG.


Shakspeare's intellectual action is wholly unlike that of Ben Jonson or
Beaumont and Fletcher. The latter see the totality of a sentence or
passage, and then project it entire. Shakspeare goes on creating, and
evolving B. out of A. , and C. out of B. , and so on, just as a serpent
moves, which makes a fulcrum of its own body, and seems for ever twisting
and untwisting its own strength.

* * * * *

I think Crabbe and Southey are something alike; but Crabbe's poems are
founded on observation and real life--Southey's on fancy and books. In
facility they are equal, though Crabbe's English is of course not upon a
level with Southey's, which is next door to faultless. But in Crabbe there
is an absolute defect of the high imagination; he gives me little or no
pleasure: yet, no doubt, he has much power of a certain kind, and it is
good to cultivate, even at some pains, a catholic taste in literature. I
read all sorts of books with some pleasure except modern sermons and
treatises on political economy.

* * * * *

I have received a great deal of pleasure from some of the modern novels,
especially Captain Marryat's "Peter Simple. " That book is nearer Smollett
than any I remember. And "Tom Cringle's Log" in Blackwood is also most
excellent.



_March_ 15. 1834.

CHAUCER. --SHAKSPEARE. --BEN JONSON. --BEAUMONT
AND FLETCHER. --DANIEL. --MASSINGER.


I take unceasing delight in Chaucer. His manly cheerfulness is especially
delicious to me in my old age. [1] How exquisitely tender he is, and yet how
perfectly free from the least touch of sickly melancholy or morbid
drooping! The sympathy of the poet with the subjects of his poetry is
particularly remarkable in Shakspeare and Chaucer; but what the first
effects by a strong act of imagination and mental metamorphosis, the last
does without any effort, merely by the inborn kindly joyousness of his
nature. How well we seem to know Chaucer! How absolutely nothing do we know
of Shakspeare!

I cannot in the least allow any necessity for Chaucer's poetry, especially
the Canterbury Tales, being considered obsolete. Let a few plain rules be
given for sounding the final _e_ of syllables, and for expressing the
termination of such words as _ocean_, and _nation_, &c. as dissyllables,--
or let the syllables to be sounded in such cases be marked by a competent
metrist. This simple expedient would, with a very few trifling exceptions,
where the errors are inveterate, enable any reader to feel the perfect
smoothness and harmony of Chaucer's verse.

[Footnote 1:
Eighteen years before, Mr. Coleridge entertained the same feelings towards
Chaucer:--"Through all the works of Chaucer there reigns a cheerfulness, a
manly hilarity, which makes it almost impossible to doubt a correspondent
habit of feeling in the author himself. " _Biog. Lit_. , vol. i. p. 32. --ED. ]


* * * * *

As to understanding his language, if you read twenty pages with a good
glossary, you surely can find no further difficulty, even as it is; but I
should have no objection to see this done:--Strike out those words which
are now obsolete, and I will venture to say that I will replace every one
of them by words still in use out of Chaucer himself, or Gower his
disciple. I don't want this myself: I rather like to see the significant
terms which Chaucer unsuccessfully offered as candidates for admission into
our language; but surely so very slight a change of the text may well be
pardoned, even by black--_letterati_, for the purpose of restoring so great
a poet to his ancient and most deserved popularity.

* * * * *

Shakspeare is of no age. It is idle to endeavour to support his phrases by
quotations from Ben Jonson, Beaumont and Fletcher, &c. His language is
entirely his own, and the younger dramatists imitated him. The construction
of Shakspeare's sentences, whether in verse or prose, is the necessary and
homogeneous vehicle of his peculiar manner of thinking. His is not the
style of the age. More particularly, Shakspeare's blank verse is an
absolutely new creation. Read Daniel[1]--the admirable Daniel--in his
"Civil Wars," and "Triumphs of Hymen. "

The style and language are just such as any very pure and manly writer of
the present day--Wordsworth, for example--would use; it seems quite modern
in comparison with the style of Shakspeare. Ben Jonson's blank verse is
very masterly and individual, and perhaps Massinger's is even still nobler.
In Beaumont and Fletcher it is constantly slipping into lyricisms.

I believe Shakspeare was not a whit more intelligible in his own day than
he is now to an educated man, except for a few local allusions of no
consequence. As I said, he is of no age--nor, I may add, of any religion,
or party, or profession. The body and substance of his works came out of
the unfathomable depths of his own oceanic mind: his observation and
reading, which was considerable, supplied him with the drapery of his
figures. [2]

[Footnote 1:
"This poet's well-merited epithet is that of the '_well-languaged Daniel_;'
but, likewise, and by the consent of his contemporaries, no less than of
all succeeding critics, the 'prosaic Daniel. ' Yet those who thus designate
this wise and amiable writer, from the frequent incorrespondency of his
diction with his metre, in the majority of his compositions, not only deem
them valuable and interesting on other accounts, but willingly admit that
there are to be found throughout his poems, and especially in his
_Epistles_ and in his _Hymen's Triumph_, many and exquisite specimens of
that style, which, as the neutral ground of prose and verse, is common to
both. "--_Biog. Lit_. , vol. ii. p. 82. ]

[Footnote 2:
Mr. Coleridge called Shakspeare "_the myriad-minded man_," [Greek: au_az
muzioyous]--" a phrase," said he, "which I have borrowed from a Greek monk,
who applies it to a patriarch of Constantinople. I might have said, that I
have _reclaimed_, rather than borrowed, it, for it seems to belong to
Shakspeare _de jure singulari, et ex privilegio naturae. " See Biog. Lit. ,
vol. ii. p. 13. --ED. ]

* * * * *

As for editing Beaumont and Fletcher, the task would be one _immensi
laboris_. The confusion is now so great, the errors so enormous, that the
editor must use a boldness quite unallowable in any other case. All I can
say as to Beaumont and Fletcher is, that I can point out well enough where
something has been lost, and that something so and so was probably in the
original; but the law of Shakspeare's thought and verse is such, that I
feel convinced that not only could I detect the spurious, but supply the
genuine, word.



_March_ 20. 1834.


LORD BYRON AND H. WALPOLE'S "MYSTERIOUS MOTHER. "--LEWIS'S "JAMAICA
JOURNAL. "

Lord Byron, as quoted by Lord Dover[1], says, that the "Mysterious Mother"
raises Horace Walpole above every author living in his, Lord Byron's, time.
Upon which I venture to remark, first, that I do not believe that Lord
Byron spoke sincerely; for I suspect that he made a tacit exception in
favour of himself at least;--secondly, that it is a miserable mode of
comparison which does not rest on difference of kind. It proceeds of envy
and malice and detraction to say that A. is higher than B. , unless you show
that they are _in pari materia_;--thirdly, that the "Mysterious Mother" is
the most disgusting, vile, detestable composition that ever came from the
hand of man. No one with a spark of true manliness, of which Horace Walpole
had none, could have written it. As to the blank verse, it is indeed better
than Rowe's and Thomson's, which was execrably bad:--any approach,
therefore, to the manner of the old dramatists was of course an
improvement; but the loosest lines in Shirley are superior to Walpole's
best.

[Footnote 1:
In the memoir prefixed to the correspondence with Sir H. Mann. Lord Byron's
words are:--"He is the _ultimus Romanorum_, the author of the 'Mysterious
Mother,' a tragedy of the highest order, and not a puling love play. He is
the father of the first romance, and of the last tragedy, in our language;
and surely worthy of a higher place than any living author, be he who he
may. "--_Preface to Marino Faliero_. Is not "Romeo and Juliet" a love play?
--But why reason about such insincere, splenetic trash? --ED. ]

* * * * *

Lewis's "Jamaica Journal" is delightful; it is almost the only unaffected
book of travels or touring I have read of late years. You have the man
himself, and not an inconsiderable man,--certainly a much finer mind than I
supposed before from the perusal of his romances, &c. It is by far his best
work, and will live and be popular. Those verses on the Hours are very
pretty; but the Isle of Devils is, like his romances,--a fever dream--
horrible, without point or terror.



_April_ 16. 1834.

SICILY. --MALTA--SIR ALEXANDER BALL.


I found that every thing in and about Sicily had been exaggerated by
travellers, except two things--the folly of the government and the
wretchedness of the people.