The Press.
London, England, 1858-04-24 00:00:00

392

material. Perhaps some people can find beauty
and stability in the nave of the Abbey—some in
the Victoria Tower. There are some 'weak and
shortsighted people abroad who think Lon-
don-bridge grand and severe, and not built of
plaster, but of granite. Unless our memory
deceives us, we have seen something better
than "humble almshouses" in the metropo•
lis—here and there, perhaps, a noble hospital
or an extensive asylum. " But Gallio cares
" for none of these things." Everything is to
a man just as he sees it ; and Cardinal Wise-
man sees only plaster and dentists, fancy
sports, cudgels and fists in London, backed
by a sovereign whose dignity is ludicrous in
comparison with the supremacy of the man
before whom thousands kneel annually in a
grand square of the city whose plaster is
marble, and whose dentists are cardinals.
It is a habit with interesting females, in the
sentiment of their teens, to keep the pith of a
letter for the postscript. The Cardinal adopts
the fashion, and it is quite in place, for we
imagine his book can only be addressed to that
particular class. He concludes thus :
Even the close of Gregory's Pontificate, his last years
and edifying end, belong not to these imperfect records.
If the courteous companions of my journey through the
put wish to learn about them, they must consult the
common mother of all the Faithful, who treasures up in her
better memory the acts and virtues of her Pontiffs and
their Fathers.
Exactly so ! All the word-painting of this big
book—all the gorgeousness, majesty, magnifi-
cence, splendour, glory, incense, thrones, pro-
cessions, cannoneers, croziers, unities, crowns,
&e., and the bands, as before—are paraded, in
order to induce the Cardinal's " courteous com-
panions " to " consult the common mother " !
If any of our readers are liable to be misled
by 532 pages of composition intended only to
dazzle and attract, by clothing the form of reli
pion in the trappings of the stage, we would
strongly urge on them a very simple prescrip-
tion before resorting to any such dangerous
consultation. and give them the same advice
which Punch offered to those about to marry—

"Do n't."

Martial and the Moderns. By Andrew Amos,
Esq. London : Bell and Daldy.

MR. JEAFFEESON tells us in his clever• novel of
" Isabel" of a literary club in London which
-has been going to read a paper on epigrams
ever since its first foundation, but has never
been able to do so yet. If these gentlemen
delay their self-imposed task much longer, we
should recommend some "independent mem-
ber" to take the work upon himself, as a
matter of business, and to give us a good,
sound book upon English epigrams, with a
careful illustrative commentary. Such a volume
would be universally welcome to the present,
and only a proper tribute to the literature of a
past, generation. The Epigram is now no
more, and it is time we reared a decent
monument to his memory- We sometimes
encounter a feeble attempt at this species of
wit, coming " like a ghost to trouble joy," but
we only catch, as it were, a faint " vagitus "
a half•heard echo from the shades where the
mighty wits of old still perhaps launch their
polished shafts at one another. But, on the
whole, epigrams are become, like old china,
things to be collected rather than used—won •
derful fer their ingenuity, their neatness, and
their brightness, but no longer adapted to the
general tone of society. Once upon a time
they formed part of the intellectual ar-
moury of every fine gentleman ; the polished,
piercing rapier at his aide was scarcely
more necessary to his character than the
knack of throwing his fancies into the
terse and pregnant form of a bon mot
or an epigram. It was necessary to be ready
on all occasions ; and accordingly some of the
happiest epigrams we possess have been im
promptus. Besides the productions of all our
well-known " wits," from Ben Jonson to
Tom Moore, a mine of unexplored wealth
exists in the Gentleman's Magazine and other
periodicals of the last century, and a collec-
tion of the first and excerpta from the second,
with the proper anecdotical and biographical
acoompaniment, would form one of the most
delightful volumes in the language.
Had Mr. Amos turned his attention to a
work of tble nature, we Wilk be would have

TH i PRE SS, APRIL 24,18 58 .

done much better; or had he oven given us
an edition of Martial with his present illustra-
tions added in the shape of notes, he would
have conferred a boon on all that class whose
taste and acquirements are still best de-
scribed by " the Horatian scholarship of a
gentleman." If, as he says, the present work
is addressed to such an audience only as has
similar tastes with himself, we may be quite
certain that the large majority of them would
prefer the original Latin. Few but scholars
ever acquire such tastes ; and we make bold to
assert, that none, whether scholars or other-
wise, could derive any pleasure from a literal
prose translation of the Roman epigrammatist.
Of whatever service it might prove to the
student of English literature, very few would
be found willing to go through so rattail for the
sake of gaining so little as an investigation of
the kind here undertaken would result in.
And though we are sorry to discourage any
effort, in the present day, at bringing the
classics into notice, we are driven to believe
that Mr. Amos has made a mistake in the
choice of his design, on which both his clas-
sical scholarship and his curious acquaintance
with English literature are little short of
wasted.

His plan is to classify Martial's epigrams
under certain heads—as Literature, Life,
Topography, &c.—and then to point out what
modern authors are indebted to him, in their
reflections on the same topic. To this we
have no objection. But then the effect is
weakened by the primary mistake of giving the
epigrams in English prose, and the utility im-
paired by the narrow range, and sometimes
the impropriety, of the parallels adduced. The
large majority of his quotations are derived
from the Elizabethan and Caroline eras, and
from the texts of the Spectator and Rambler.
Jeremy Taylor and Dr. Juhuson are the
authors most frequently quoted, and generally
we must confess with perfect relevance. This
is a curious fact,—that the two writers best
acquainted with a witty and licentious classic
should be, not the sparkling dramatists and
satirists of Charles 11. and Queen Anne, but
one of our greatest divines, ant he who is
styled, par excellence, "the great moralist,"
though he was also, as those familiar with him
are aware, one of the wittiest of mankind. But
long extracts from sermons impart a heavy air
to these pages ; and they should, at all events,
have been relieved by something gayer and
lighter than equally long-winded extracts from
Bea Jonson and Cowley, to the neglect of Pope,
whose occasional agreement with Martial is
just as obvious—that is to say, all three pro-
bably were thinking more of Horace, in the
passages cited, than of his latest and leas
popular countryman.

But to the sources from which we should
have expected numerous illustrations to be
drawn we find scarce a single allusion. Our
comic literature is scarcely touched. Con
greve and his contemporaries are never once
mentioned. Fielding is quoted occasionally,
but all the famous talkers of the eighteenth
century are passed over in silence, as if no-
thing was attributable to the influence of
Martial but expressly written imitations of
him. Below the eighteenth century Mr.
Amos does not descend at all. We miss
accordingly parallels that will rise to every
one's lips—as the beautiful lines of Byron,
" Oh, snatched away in beauty's bloom ;" to
the epigram addressed to Alcimua (Lib. i.,
lxxxix. or lxxiii j ; and to numerous passages
is Mr. Thackeray's works pointing to traits of
" Snobbism " which had their exact counter-
part in the society frequented by Martial.
Johnson, perhaps, is more deeply indebted to
Martial, after all, than most of the writers whom
Mr. Amos quotes. His epigrams, both English
and Latin, breathe the Martialian spirit in
every line, and sometimes, we do not hesitate
to say, exceed anything which his original has
produced. We should specially instance the
epigram on Colly Cibber and George 11., and
the Latin one to a young lady who had ad-
vised him to become a Whig. It is time,
however, we should give some specimens of
Mr. Anaos's performances. As an instance of
the curious information which his pages
occasionally afford we subjoin do follow-

111

XY.-11ELLir&Ney.
" My lawsuit, which now is being tried by the Court
does not relate to manslaughter, or poison, or violence, but
•
is about three little goats. I complain that my neighboul
has stolen them from me: the judge requires this to be
proved. You, Nathan:ma, my advocate, talk about the
battle of Cannve and the Mithridatic war, and Carthaginian
perjuries, Sylla, Marius and Mucius, all with a stunning
voice, and the whole gesture of your hand. After this-
Posthumus, it is time to say something about my three
little goats."—Lib. vi., Ep. xi:.
This epigram is ingrafted into Dr. Parr's Preface to
Bellenden (in Latin) ; wherein he reviews the political
characters of the statesmen of bib day (1787), and es•
pecially the attacks of Pitt upon Lord North, on account
of the American war, even after its termination. The
following translation of the passage in Dr. Parr's Preface
was published in 1788:
The American war did certainly commence and was
afterwards conducted under the most unhappy auspices.
This has constantly been, in the bands of the minister, a
must tremendous instrument of torture, directed against
the security and fame of an individual. But to contem-
plate. without ridicule, incidents which have found ad-
mission into our Senate requires no small strength of
muscle. Somewhat of the moat minute importance has
been the proposed subject of debate : the chosen band has
been assembled and the young men composing it have in.
dulged in obstreperous clamour ; all has been noisy mirth
and tumultuous commotion. After a while a certain per.
son, in the pride of office, makes his entrance; instantly
he rises from his place, and losing gradual remembrance of
the unimportant matter to be discussed, he begins a
terrible story of blood and wounds; talks of Sylla and
Marius, of the atrociousness of Punic perfidy, with the
loudest vehemence of voice and action : he calls heaven
and earth to witness that the American war was the sole
occasion of the matter in question, however insignificant;
he pretends that of the American war Lord North was the
one and only cause."
The learned reader will find in Pr. Parr's Latin preface
a much closer approximation to Martial and his goats than
in the translation. Dr. Parr writes, "Rea guedam agenda
est de tribus capellis ; and, afterwards, the Certain One
(Pitt) trium capellarsem paululum immemor, multa de vi et
suede, mutts de Syllis et Mariis, multa de Cannis et per.
juriis Punici furoris lingua personat audacissima et menu
tots. Deos Hominesque testatur helium Americanum in
cauca fuiase cur Ticino isles tres capellas a Caio furaltu sit."
This is a very ingenious application ; and a
comparison between the Latin and English
will show how much of the spirit of this kind
of writing evaporates in translation.
We part from Mr Amos, sympathizing with
his intentions more than we admire his
achievements. He does not seem to have
any natural turn for this species of literary
labour. The light, dancing style, the well-
timed allusion, the easy personal sketches,
the fund of literary gossip, and extensive
acquaintance with ana, which such a work
requires, seem quite beyond his conceptions,
and alien to his powers. He has given us a
book which any well-read English gentleman
with a partiality for the graver authors might
have given us. To estimate the influence of
Martial upon modern wit, we should have
gone to the writings of modern wits. But
Mr. Amos does not seem to care for that de-
partment of letters. When we want to go to
the Haymarket, he takes us to Exeter-hall.

The Life of Percy Bysshe Shelley. By Thomas
Jefferson Hogg. In Four Vols. London:
Moxon.
WE have heard before of Mr. Hogg, the
author of this Life of Shelley. He was an
early friend and college companion of the
poet, and at the instance of Sir Edward Lytton
Mr. Hogg contributed several papers on Shel-
ley to a periodical of which Sir Edward was
the editor. The present work is not written
in a tone calculated to soothe those who dis-
like Shelley for his opinions ; nor will it please
those who admire the poet for the teeming
richness of his metrical and metaphysical
fancies, and for the sonorous harmony of his
beautiful embodiment of crude theories and
false philosophy. It is composed in a dog-
matic, peevish, opinionative manner; and it jars
so often upon the wrong key as to produce the
most disagreeable dissonance. In the author's
admiration of the subject of the biography,
there is no attempt at moderation. Shelley
iy
treated from first to last as "the Divine Poet,
as if it were certain that he was the co-equal
in glory of Homer, Dante, Shakespeare, or
Milton. Mr. Hogg has truly recorded the
effect on hearers of Shelley's shrill and most
unmusical voice, which almost marred the
effect of the poet's singularly interesting
countenance, with its beautiful eyes, its
rounded features, and its mystical, rapt, ex-
provolou. gvery übapter of gr. Hogg reminds

■

us of the screaming tone of Shelley. In a
word, the whole of these first two volumes
'others are to come) is most unpleasing.
But the work contains much most interest,
ing and authentic materials for those who
desire to study Shelley as a man, and it
deserves to be read for its contents, if not for
its style. Miss Shelley, a surviving sister of
the poet, is a contributor of several recollec-
tions to its pages; Mr. Hogg's owu personal
reminiscences are numerous and there are
many original letters from Shelley and God-
win, and others, none of which have previously
seen the light. We have blamed the execu-
tion of the work, but we will not underrate its
portance, as future writers will
biographical im
be sure to know how to avail themselves of the
quantity of matter spread here before the
world. On the present occasion we shall con-
fine ourselves to the first of these volumes.
The dedication of the work gives some idea
of the unpleasant manner and exaggerated
tone of its composition :

TO
THE HON. JANE,
THE WIVE OF SIR PERCY FLORENCE SHELLEY, BART.,
THE LADY AT WHOSE REQUEST
THE DELICATE AND DIFFICULT TASK WAS UNDERTAKE
OF GIVING A FULL AND AUTHENTIC ACCOUNT
OF A LIFE INNOCENT AND IMAGINATIVE,

EVEN OF THE LIFE OF HER INCOMPARABLE FATHER•IN•LAW
THE DIVINE POET,

THESE VOLUMES ARE RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED,

BY HER FRIEND,
THE AUTHOR.
We shall not stay to criticise this dedication.
Next we are abruptly treated to some ardent
passages from the pen of the poet's wife, the
late Mrs. Shelley. It appears that Sir Timothy
Shelley forbad Mrs. Shelley—under threat of
" stopping the supplies " to publish any
biography of her husband. Both Mrs. Shelley
and the poet's personal representative seem to
have great confidence in Mr. Hogg, and the
circumstance gives value to certain statements
in this publication of the vehemence of Mr.
Hogg's admiration for Shelley. We shall cite
a passage by way of specimen :

Shelley was great as a poet— divine, indeed ; great as a
philosopher, as a moralist, as a scholar, as a complete and
finished gentleman, great iu every respect as a man ; but
be was most oonspicuously great in that particular excel-
lence which, in all ages and in all cations, has been in-
variably the characteristic distinction of the greatest of
mankind—he was pre-eminently a lady's man.

Of the character of Shelley as a poet, or as a
man, this is not the proper occasion for us to
record o•xr opinion, as we shall have other
Opportunities of doing so when this publica-
tion will be completed. We may observe, that
the time which has passed since Shelley's
death will secure from the public a calmer
opinion on his character than could have been
expected at his decease.

Miss Shelley's recollections of her brother
are amongst the most interesting parts. They
are rambling, desultory, and broken, but they
portray th 3 imaginative nature of the strange
being who wrote " Queen :Lab " and " The
Cenci." Shelley as a young boy is visible in
this sketch :

At this distant period I can scarcely remember my
first impressions of Bysshe, but he would frequently come
to the nursery, and WdS full of a peculiar kind of pranks.
One piece of mischief, for which he was rebuked, was run.
ntng a stick through the ceiling of a low passage to find
some new chamber, which could be made effective for
some flights ot his vivid imagination. The tales, to which
we have sat and listPned, evening after evening, seated on
his knee, when we came to the dining-room for dessert,
were anticipated with that pleasing dread, which so excites
the minds of children, and fastens so strongly and indeli-
bly on the memory. There was a spacious garret under
the roof ot Field-place, and a room, which hail been closed
for years, excepting an entrance made by the removal of a
board in the garret-floor. This unknown land was made
the fancied habitation of an Alchemist, old and grey, with
a long beard. Books and a lamp, with all the attributes of
s picturesque fancy, were poured into our listening ears.
e were to go and see him " some day ;" but we were
content to wait, and a cave was to be dug in the orchard
ter the better accommodation of this Cornelius Agrippa.
Another favourite theme was the " Great Tortoise," that
lived in Warnham Pond; and any unwonted noise was
accounted for by the presence of this great beast, which
was made into the fanciful proportions most adapted to
excite awe and wonder.
And. there are several other recollections of a
sunder character. But wo pass on to a vivid
portraiture of Shelley as ho appeared at
Oxford, where Mr. Bev first mado his ac-
quaintance °
It was 4 sum of many contradictions. His figure was
Itliffkt and fragile, add yet hie bones pad joints were large