ther gods nor men find favor in your sight. If Homer and Virgil crossed your path, you would throw stones at them. one dark passage, a dagger in his hand and a bitter sneer on his countenance.* He stole (from the Egyptian priests and other sources) every idea his voluminous books convey. Plato was a thief. N. "Taffy was a Welshman, Taffy was a thief." L. Do you mean to insinuate that my dialogues are stolen from Plato's? L. The poems attributed to Homer, were probably, in part at least, translations. He is a better poet than Hesiod, who has, indeed, but little merit!* Virgil has no originality. His epic poem is a mere echo of the Iliad, softened down in tone for the polite ears of Augustus and his courtiers. N. Certainly not, Mr. Landor; there is Virgil is inferior to Tasso. Tasso's char- not the remotest resemblance between acters are more vivid and distinct than Vir- them. Lucian and Christopher North are gil's, and greatly more interesting. Virgil your models. What do you think of Ariswants genius. Menzentius is the most le-totle ? roical and pious of all the characters in the L. In Plato we find only arbors and grotÆneid. The Eneid, I affirm, is the most toes, with moss and shell-work all mismisshapen of epics, an epic of episodes.† placed. Aristotle has built a solider edifice, There are a few good passages in it. I but has built it across the road. We must must repeat one for the sake of proposing throw it down again.‡ an amendment. "Quinetian hyberno moliris sidere classem, Et mediis properas aquilonibus ire per altum... If hybernum were substituted for undosum, L. Pshaw! You Scotchmen are no scholars. Let me proceed. Virgil has no nature. And, by the way, his translator Dryden, too, is greatly overrated. N. Glorious John? L. Glorious fiddlestick! It is insuffera ble that a rhymer should be called glorious, N. A drinking song? N. Heigh, sir, indeed! Well, let us go on with the Ancients, and dispatch them first. To revert to the Greeks, from whom Virgil's imitation of the Iliad drew us aside, favor me with your opinion of Plato. L. Plato is disingenuous and malicious. I fancy I have detected him in more than See Mr. Landor's "Imaginary Conversations," vol. i. p. 44, and ii. p. 322, note. + Vol. i. p. 269, 270. * Vol. i. p. 300. N. So much for philosophy. What have you to say to Xenophon as a historian? L. He is not inelegant, but he is unimpassioned and affected;§ and he has not even preserved the coarse features of nations and of ages in his Cyropædia. N. The dunce! But what of the Anabasis? L. You may set Xenophon down as a writer of graceful mediocrity.¶ N. Herodotus ? L. If I blame Herodotus, whom can I commend? His view of history was nevertheless like that of the Asiatics, and there can be little to instruct and please us in the actions and speeches of barbarians.** N. Which of the Greek tragedians do you patronize? L. Eschylus is not altogether unworthy of his reputation; he is sometimes grand, but oftener flighty and obscure.tt N. What say you of Sophocles? N. What of Euripides ?‡‡ life than Sophocles, and he further down than Eschylus: one would have expected the reverse. Euripides has but little dramatic power. His dialogue is sometimes dull and heavy; the construction of his chorus he assumes another form, and befable infirm and inartificial, and if in the comes a more elevated poet, he is still at a loss to make it serve the interests of the piece. He appears to have written principally for the purpose of inculcating politi L. He came further down into common lignant.* N. Seneca? cal and moral axioms. The dogmas, like | but, like all the pusillanimous, he was mavalets de place, serve any master, and run to any quarter. Even when new, they are nevertheless miserably flat and idle. N. Aristophanes ridiculed him. L. He was, like our own Bacon, hardhearted and hypocritical.† As to his literary L. Yes; Aristophanes had, however, but merits, Caligula, the excellent emperor and little true wit.* N. That was lucky for Euripides. L. A more skilful archer would have pierced him through bone and marrow, and saved him from the dogs of Archelaus. N. That story is probably an allegory, signifying that Euripides was after all worried out of life by the curs of criticism in his old age. L. As our Keats was in his youth, eh, Mr. North? A worse fate than that of Eschylus, who had his scull cracked by a tortoise dropt by an eagle that mistook his bald head for a stone. N. Another fable of his inventive countrymen. He died of brain-fever, followed by paralysis, the effect of drunkenness. He was a jolly old toper: I am sorry for him. You just now said that Aristophanes wanted wit. What foolish fellows, then, the Athenians must have been, in the very meridian of their literature, to be so delighted with what they mistook for wit as to decree him a crown of Olive! He has been styled the Prince of Old Comedy too. How do you like Menander? L. We have not much of him, unless in Terence. The characters on which Menander raised his glory were trivial and contemptible.† N. Now that you have demolished the Greeks, let us go back to Rome, and have another touch at the Latins. From Menander to Terence is an easy jump. How do you esteem Terence? L. Every one knows that he is rather an expert translator from the Greek than an original writer. There is more pith in Plautus. N. You like Plautus, then, and endure Terence ? L. I tolerate both as men of some talents; but comedy is, at the best, only a low style of literature; and the production of such trifling stuff is work for the minor geniuses. I have never composed a comedy. N. I see; farewell to the sock, then. Is Horace worth his salt? L. There must be some salt in Horace, or he would not have kept so well. He was a shrewd observer and an easy versifier; critic, (who made sundry efforts to extirpate the writings of Homer and Virgil,) spoke justly and admirably when he compared the sentences of Seneca to lime without sand.‡ N. Perhaps, after all, you prefer the moderns? L. I have not said that. N. You think well of Spenser ? L. As I do of opium: he sends me to bed.§ N. You concede the greatness of Milton? L. Yes, when he is great; but his Satan is often a thing to be thrown out of the way, among the rods and fools' caps of the nursery. He has sometimes written very contemptibly; his lines on Hobbes, the carrier, for example, and his versions of Psalms. Milton was never so great a regicide as when he smote King David. T N. You like, at least, his hatred of kings? L. That is somewhat after my own heart, own; but he does not go far enough in his hatred of them. I N. You do? L. I despise and abominate them. How many of them, do you think, could name their real fathers?** N. But, surely, Charles was a martyr? L. If so, what were those who sold him ?†† Ha, ha, ha! You a Scotchman, too! However, Charles was not a martyr. He was justly punished. To a consistent republican, the diadem should designate the victim all who wear it, all who offer it, all who bow to it, should perish. Rewards should be offered for the heads of those monsters, as for the wolves, the kites, and the vipers. A true republican can hold no milder doctrine of polity, than that all nations, all cities, all communities, should enter into one great hunt, like that of the ancient Scythians at the approach of winter, and should follow up the kingly power un relentingly to its perdition. True republicans can see no reason why they should not send an executioner to release a king from the prison-house of his crimes, with his family to attend him.§§ In my Dialogues, I have put such sentiments into the mouth N. I believe one Englishman, a martyr of Diogenes, that cynic of sterling stamp, to liberty, has said something like that beand of Eschines, that incorruptible orator, fore. as suitable to the maxims of their government.* To To my readers, I leave the application of them to nearer interests. N. But you would not yourself, in your individual character, and in deliberate earnestness, apply them to modern times and monarchies? L. Why not? Look at my Dialogue with De Lille. What have I said of Louis the Fourteenth, the great exemplar of kingship, and of the treatment that he ought to have received from the English? Deprived of all he had acquired by his treachery and violence, unless the nation that brought him upon his knees had permitted two traitors, Harley and St. John, to second the views of a weak woman, and to obstruct those of policy and of England, he had been carted to condign punishment in the Place de Grêve or at Tyburn. Such examples are much wanted, and, as they can rarely be given, should never be omitted.‡ L. Who, pray? N. The butcher Ings. L. Ah, I was not aware of it! Ings was a fine fellow. N. Your republic, will never do here, Mr. Landor. L. I shall believe that a king is better than a republic, when I find that a single tooth in a head is better than a set.* N. It would be as good logic in a monarchy-man to say, "I shall believe that a republic is better than a king, when I am convinced that six noses on a face would be better than one." L. In this age of the march of intellect, when a pillar of fire is guiding us out of the wilderness of error, you Tories lag behind, and are lost in darkness, Mr. North. Only the first person in the kingdom should be unenlightened and void, as only the first page in a book should be a blank one. It is when it is torn out that we come at once to the letters.f N. The Sans-culottes and Poissardes of the last French revolution but three, would N. Well, now you have torn out the first have raised you by acclamation to the dig-page of the Court Guide, we come to the nity of Decollator of the royal family of Peers, I suppose. France for that brave sentiment. But you were not at Paris, I suppose, during the reign of the guillotine, Mr. Landor? L. I was not, Mr. North. But as to the king whose plethory was cured by that sharp remedy, he, Louis the Sixteenth, was only dragged to a fate which, if he had not experienced it, he would be acknowledged to have deserved.§ L. The peerage is the park-paling of despotism, arranged to keep in creatures tame and wild for luxury and diversion, and to keep out the people. Kings are to peerages what poles are to rope-dancers, enabling them to play their tricks with greater confidence and security above the heads of the people. The wisest and the most independent of the English Parliaments declared the thing useless. Peers are usually persons * Mr. Landor, with whom the Cynic is a singular of pride without dignity, of lofty pretenfavorite, says, p. 461, vol. iii., that Diogenes was not sions with low propensities. They invari expelled from Sinope for having counterfeited mo-ably bear towards one another a constrained ney; that he only marked false men. Eschines was accused of having been bribed by Philip of Mace-familiarity or frigid courtesy, while to their huntsmen and their prickers, their chaplains and their cooks, (or indeed any other man's,) they display unequivocal signs of ingenuous cordiality. How many do you imagine of our nobility are not bastards or sons of bastards ?§ don. + Vol. i. + Vol. i. p. 281.-Landor. N. You have now settled the Peers. The Baronets come next in order. § Vol. ii. p. 267. This truculent sentiment the Dialogist imputes to a Spanish liberal. He cannot fairly complain that it is here restored to its owner. It is exactly in accordance with the sentence quoted above in italics-a judgment pronounced by Mr. Landor in person.-Vol. i. p. 281. It also conforms to his philosophy of regicide, as expounded in various parts of his writings. In his preface to the first volume of his Imaginary Conversations, he claims exemption, though somewhat sarcastically, from responsibility for the notions expressed by his interlocutors. An author, in a style which has all the freedom of the dramatic form, without its restraints, should especially abstain from making his work the vehicle of crotchets, prejudices, and passions peculiar to himself. or unworthy of the characters speaking. "This form of composition," Mr. of any standing (like Walter Savage LanLandor says, "among other advantages, is recom-dor, of Warwick Castle, and Lantony Abmended by the protection it gives from the hostility L. Baronets are prouder than any thing we see on this side of the Dardanelles, excepting the proctors of universities, and the vergers of cathedrals; and their pride is kept in eternal agitation, both from what is above them and what is below. Gentlemen all novelty (unless it be vicious) excites." Prudent * Vol. ii. p. 31. consideration, but indiscreet parenthesis. Vol. iv. p. 400. + Vol. iv. p. 405. § Vol. iv. p. 400. bey in Wales,) are apt to investigate their claims a little too minutely, and nobility has neither bench nor joint-stool for them in the vestibule. During the whole course of your life, have you ever seen one among this, our King James's breed of curs, that either did not curl himself up and lie snug and warm in the lowest company, or slaver and whimper in fretful quest of the highest." N. But you allow the English people to be a great people. L. I allow them to be a nation of great fools. In England, if you write dwarf on the back of a giant, he will go for a dwarf.† N. I perceive; some wag has been chalking your back in that fashion. Why don't you label your breast with the word giant? Perhaps you would then pass for one. L. I have so labelled it, but in vain. N. Yet we have seen some great men, besides yourself, Mr. Landor, in our own day. Some great military commanders, for example; and, as a particular instance, Wellington. L. It cannot be dissembled that all the victories of the English, in the last fifty years, have been gained by the high courage and steady discipline of the soldier; and the most remarkable where the prudence and skill of the commander were altogether wanting. N. Ay, that was a terrible mistake at Waterloo. Yet you will allow Wellington to have been something of a general, if not in India, at least in Spain. L. Suppose him, or any distinguished general of the English, to have been placed where Murillo was placed in America, Mina in Spain; then inform me what would have been your hopes & The illustrious Mina, of all the generals who have appeared in our age, has displayed the greatest genius, and the greatest constancy. That exalted personage, the admiration of Europe, accomplished the most arduous and memorable work that any one mortal ever brought to its termination. N. We have had some distinguished statesmen at the helm in our time, Mr. Landor. well as of the peerage. By the most wasteful prodigality both in finance and war, he was enabled to distribute more wealth among his friends and partisans than has been squandered by the uncontrolled profusion of French monarchs from the first Louis to the last. Yet he was more shortsighted than the meanest insect that can see an inch before it. You should have added those equally enlightened and prudent leaders of our Parliament, Lord Castlereagh and his successors. Pitt, indeed! whose requisites for a successful minister were three-to speak like an honest man, to act like a scoundrel, and to be indifferent which he is called. But you have forgotten my dialogue between him and that wretched fellow Canning.† I have there given Pitt his quietus. As to Castlereagh and Canning, I have crushed them to powder, spit upon them, kneaded them into dough again; and pulverized them once more. Canning is the man who deserted his party, supplanted his patrons, and abandoned every principle he protested he would uphold.‡ Castlereagh is the statesman who was found richer one day, by a million of zecchins, than he was the day before, and this from having signed a treaty! The only life he ever personally aimed at was the vilest in existence, and none complains that he succeeded in his attempt. I forgot: he aimed at another so like it, (you remember his duel with Canning,) that it is a pity it did not form a part of it.§ N. Horrible! most horrible! L. Hear Epicurus and Leontion and Ternissa discuss the merits of Castlereagh and Canning. N. Epicurus! What, the philosopher who flourished some centuries before the Christian era? L. The same. He flourishes still for my purposes. N. And who are Leontion and Ternissa? L. Two of his female pupils. N. Oh, two of his misses! And how come they and their master, who lived about 2000 years before the birth of Canning and Castlereagh, to know any thing about them? L. I do not stand at trifles of congruity. Canning is the very man who has taken es * Vol. ii. p. 240, 241, 242. + Vol. iii. p. 66. Vol. iii. p. 134. § Vol. iii. p. 172, and that there should be no mistake as to the person indicated, Lord Castlereagh is again accused by name at p. 187. The same charge occurs also in the dialogue between Aristotle and Calisthenes! p. 334, 335, 336; where Prince Metternich, (Metanyctius,) the briber, is himself represented as a traitor to his country. Aristotle is the teller of this cock-and-bull story! pecial care that no strong box among us shall be without a chink at the bottom; the very man who asked and received a gratuity (you remember the Lisbon job) from the colleague he had betrayed, belied, and thrown a stone at, for having proved him in the great market-place a betrayer and a liar.* Epicurus describes Canning as a fugitive slave, a writer of epigrams on walls, and of songs on the grease of platters, who at tempted to cut the throat of a fellow in the same household, who was soon afterward more successful in doing it himself.t N. Horrible, most horrible mockery! But even that is not new. It is but Byron's brutal scoff repeated-" Carotid-artery-cutting Castlereagh." L. You Tories affect to be so squeamish. Epicurus goes on to show Canning's ignorance of English. N. Epicurus? Why not William Cob bett? L. The Athenian philosopher introduces the trial of George the Fourth's wife, and describes her as a drunken old woman, the companion of soldiers and sailors, and lower and viler of men. One whose eyes, as much as can be seen of them, are streaky fat floating in semi-liquid rheum. N. And this is the language of Epicurus to his female pupils? He was never such a beast. L. You are delicate. He goes on to allude to Canning's having called her the pride, the life, the ornament of society, (you know he did so call her in the House of Commons, according to the newspaper reports; it is true he was speaking of what she had been many years previously; before her departure from England.) Epicurus says, triumphantly, that the words, if used at all, should have been placed thus-the ornament, pride, and life; for hardly a Baotian bullock-driver would have wedged in life between pride and ornament.‡ N. What dignified and important criticism! and how appropriate from the lips of Epicurus! But why were you, Mr. Landor, * Vol. iv. 194. p. t Vol. iv. p. 194. Vol. iv. p. 194, 195.-Pericles and Sophocles also prattle about Queen Caroline! vol. 2, p. 106, 107.In another place, the judgment and style of Johnson being under sentence, the Doctor's judgment is "alike in all things," that is, "unsound and incorrect;" and as to style, "a sentence of Johnson is like a pair of breeches, an article of dress, divided into two parts, equal in length, breadth, and substance, with a protuberance before and behind." The contour of Mr. Landor's figure can hardly be so graceful as that of the Pythian Apollo, if his dress-breeches are made in this fashion, and "his Florentine tailor never fails to fit him." See vol. i. p. 296, and p. 185, note. so rancorous against that miserable Queen Caroline? You have half choked Sir Robert Wilson, one of her champions, and the marshal of her coffin's royal progress through London, with a reeking panegyric, in your dedication to him of a volume of your Talks.* L. I mistook Wilson for an uncompromising Radical. As to his and Canning's mobled Queen, I confess I owed her a grudge for disrespect to me at Como long before. N. How? Were you personally acquainted with her? L. Not at all: she was not aware that there was such a man as Walter Savage Landor upon earth, or she would have taken care that I should not be stopt by her porter at the lodge-gate, when I took a fancy to pry into the beauties of her pleasure-ground. N. Then her disrespect to you was not only by deputy, but even without her cognizance? L. Just so. N. And that was the offence for which you assailed her with such violent invective after her death? L. Oh no! it might possibly have sharpened it a little; but I felt it my duty, as a censor of morals, to mark my reprobation of her having grown fat and wrinkled in her old age. It was necessary for me to correct the flattering picture drawn of her by that caitiff Canning. You know the contempt of Demosthenes for Canning. N. Demosthenes, too! L. Yes, in my dialogue between him and Eubulides, he delineates Canning as a clumsy and vulgar man. N. Every one knows that he was a man of remarkably fine person and pleasing manners. L. Never mind that-A vulgar and clumsy man, a market-place demagogue, lifted on a honey-barrel by grocers and slavemerchants, with a dense crowd around him, who listen in rapture because his jargon is unintelligible.† Demosthenes, you know, was a Liverpool electioneering agent, so he knew all about Canning and his tricks, and his abstraction of £14,000 sterling from the public treasury to defray the expenses of his shameful flight to Lesbos, that is Lisbon.‡ N. Has England produced no honest men of eminence, Mr. Landor? |