wrote to you; I thought not, but yet I recollect that when I wrote last, I was in the ninth book of the Odyssey, which I have since finished and read eighteen books of the Iliad, so that it must be a good while since. I think the superiority of the Iliad is greater than I had imagined, or than I believe is generally allowed, and more than makes up for the fable being so much less entertaining. To be sure the battles are too long, and the wounds too minutely described, but there is a charm in it which makes one read on with eagerness, and a rapidity and fire and freedom in the manner that surpasses all other poets; and I mean this of his style in general, exclusive of the passages (of which there are so many) containing anything particularly sublime or affecting. In short the more I read the more I admire him. There are parts of Virgil (and among those too imitated from Homer) which I think fully equal to Homer, but then he has not in any degree approaching to his master that freedom of manner, which I prize so much; and Milton, who has some passages as sublime as possible, is in this respect still more deficient, or rather he has no degree of it whatever. Ariosto has more of it than any other poet, even so as to vie in this particular merit with Homer himself, and possibly it may be that my excessive delight in him, is owing to my holding in higher estimation than others do, the merit of freedom and rapidity. My mind is so full of poetry just now that I could not help giving you the seccaggine of this long intrusion, though I suspect you are quite out of the habit of reading poetry, as you never say a word either of Ariosto or Dante, or Tasso, or 'Jussa domo cessi, natis comitata duobus, "Now for politics. The French answer to our propositions is come, and all hopes of peace are at an end. From the circumstances attending our proposition, and the delay in making it, they were fully justified in suspecting our sincerity; but, even upon that supposition, I do not think their answer judicious. As yet I do not perfectly understand it, because till I have examined, or got examined by others, their public Acts, I cannot say precisely what countries they consider themselves by the Constitution as forbidden to alienate. The Ministers give out that they mean all the countries conquered in Europe; I am convinced they do not mean this; but I suspect they do mean quite enough to make their answer very high, if not insolent. Pitt does not mean to lay the papers before Parliament; but I think we must have some * Ovid, "Heroid." xii. 199. +Ibid, v. 135. I do not know what propositions are here alluded to. In the debate on the address, October 29th, 1795, Ministers are reproached by Mr. Fox with not having, up to that time, consented to negotiate with France; while "Prussia had made peace with her, many of the States of Germany had made peace with her, and, among others, the Elector of Hanover had made peace."-"Fox's Speeches," vol. v. p. 497. discussion upon them, which I fear cannot be so managed as not to give him some advantage in representing us to the Country as men who are inclined to make peace upon too low terms. It is an awkward thing for us to say, but the true inference to be drawn from the late transaction is, that it is impossible for a Ministry who have made war upon the principles upon which these Ministers have made it, to make any peace except by unconditional submission on one side or other. This was thought to be true in the American War, and in every other case that has any similarity to it, and will be found to be true in the present instance also; so that how long this war will continue God knows. The state of finance here is very bad indeed, and what Pitt intends to do next Monday to remedy the present temporary scarcity of money, as he calls it, I know not. Nothing effectual can be done, I believe; and I fear that in a very short time (maybe in a few years) our finances will be in such a state as to be wholly incapable of remedy from any Minister whatever. I do not think that even peace would prevent our experiencing great difficulties, nay, perhaps it might accelerate them; but the continuation of the war, on the other hand, must make every remedy more difficult, and consequently the ruin more certain. I forget whether my last letter to you was before or after Grey made his excellent speech upon this subject.* He is improved to the greatest degree; and would, if the country were in a state to admit of being saved, be as likely to * On the 26th of February, 1795, in the House of Commons. save it as any man I ever knew. As to myself, I grow every day to think less of public affairs; possibly your coming home and taking a part in them might make me again more alive about them; but I doubt even that. The Bills of this year appear to me to be a finishing stroke to everything like a spirit of liberty; and though the country did show some spirit while they were depending, yet I fear it was only a temporary feeling, which they have quite forgotten. I wish I could be persuaded that it was right to quit public business, for I should like it to a degree that I cannot express; but I cannot yet think that it is not a duty to persevere. One may be of opinion that persevering is of no use; but ought a man who has engaged himself to the Public to trust so entirely to a speculation of this sort as to go out of the common road and to desert (for so it would be called) the public service? Would it not be said, with more colour than ever, that my object was all along personal power; and that, finding that unattainable, I gave up all exertion for the Public? I know there is another view of this question, and that it may be said with some truth, that by persevering we are assisting the imposture which is putting upon the people, that the government is still a free one. But, though some would put a candid construction upon secession, yet, as I do not think the people are in a disposition to interpret favourably the conduct of public men, I fear the general opinion would be what I mentioned before; that, having lost all hope of place, we left the country to take care of itself. Homer makes Ulysses say, ̓Αλλὰ τίη μοι ταῦτα φιλὸς διελέξατο θυμός ; οἶδα γὰρ ὅττι κακοὶ μὲν ἀποίχονται πολέμοιο ; * and I cannot help feeling something like the same sentiment; I am so sure that secession is the measure a shabby fellow would take in our circumstances, that I think it can scarcely be right for us. But as for wishes, no man ever wished anything more. I am perfectly happy in the country. I have quite resources enough to employ my mind; and the great resource of all, literature, I am fonder of every day; and then the Lady of the Hill is one continual source of happiness to me. I believe few men, indeed, ever were so happy in that respect as I. Besides, with my limited income, it would be far easier to us to keep out of debt, if I were not obliged to have a house in town. In short, every reason that relates to my own interest or happiness is on the side of giving up the thing, and perhaps this makes me suspect the argument on that side of the question. However events and circumstances may happen which may make that right which I am sure would be pleasant, and I think it not unlikely but they may. God bless you. I do not make any apology for all this about myself, because I know it interests you; and I wish it may be an example to you to talk to me a little about yourself, which you never do. Mrs. A. desires her love to you kindly, but she quite despairs of ever seeing you." *Yet wherefore doubtful? let this truth suffice; The brave meets danger, and the coward flies. "Iliad," xi. 407-8.-Pope's Translation. |