wich. We hope that you and Miss J. Seward (to whom pray make our best compliments) will not let the summer pass away without giving us the pleasure of your company. I am sorry to hear of the death of the lady you mention, though I did not even know her by sight. Mrs. C. joins in affectionate remembrances to you, with your ever faithful

servant,

H. F. CARY.

Her

Miss Seward was not to be so silenced, and renewed her attack by pointing out what appeared to her to be particular defects in the version. letter is in itself of considerable interest; but I think it well to insert it here, in order to make the reply to it more intelligible.

FROM MISS SEWARD.

DEAR FRIEND,

Lichfield, August 6, 1806.

I should have liked the sitting down to an instant acknowledgment and reply to your last letter, but will and power are different things with me. A succession of company to stay beneath my roof, together with Lichfield engagements, have engrossed every intervening moment.

On the 19th of last month I had the pleasure of an hour's conversation with Sir Charles Ormsby, but could not prevail upon him to stay dinner. was, however, so good as to promise to pass a day and

He

cient in wood, and grows gradually worse as it comes nearer Cambridge, except that it wears a pleasanter aspect about Huntingdon, where the Ouse (a river in character much like the Neu) winds in a broad stream through a spacious green meadow. I did not mention in my last that the Neu is navigable as high up as Northampton, as the Ouse is at least as high as Huntingdon. The road almost all the way from that town is extremely dreary, being very flat and almost entirely destitute of trees and hedges. The new inclosure will soon supply the latter deficiency.

As soon as we had drunk tea we were both disposed to wander about the town, under a very bright moonlight. It has shown us Trinity College and King's College Chapel to greater advantage probably than they will appear by day. The former is more splendid and palace-like, but not equal in sublime effect to Christ Church. As for the latter, where shall I find words to express my admiration and delight? As I stood almost close under it and looked up, it reminded me of a description in Milton,

"A rock

Of alabaster piled up to the clouds."

The other buildings seemed like toys after it. But more of this to-morrow or the following day. It is now ten o'clock, and we rose at six and have had little rest since.

October 18. We have this morning walked over

most of the Colleges. effect by moonlight. The Senate-house alone, which is a beautiful structure of the Corinthian order, is improved by the full view afforded of all its parts by the light of day. What is called the backs of the Colleges is extremely pleasing. It is a walk that passes behind several of the Colleges with the river Cam between (a narrow, deep, muddy stream either bordered with stone or stone-like brick piers, or with a very smooth green bank), and is shaded by avenues of large trees, lime, elm, and some willows, in different directions.

The buildings had a finer

We have not entered the inside of any of the buildings except Pembroke, and that was accidental, as we were inquiring of an old servant which were Gray's rooms. He showed them to us, and then led us into the hall, out of which he helped to carry Gray, when he was suddenly seized with the fit that terminated his life. On further recollection, we also walked into the hall of Trinity College, which, though a fine room, is very inferior to that at Christ Church.

Mr. Charles Blick is coming to dine with us, and in the evening we are engaged to Mr. Boon, whom you may remember to have seen at our house the winter before last.

On the whole I am much more gratified by this place than I expected. The town particularly is far better than I supposed. The streets indeed are narrow, but they are well flagged and tolerably neat

night with me on his return, and at my request engaged to write to desire that yourself, Mrs. Cary and the boys, would meet him here, on whatever day he shall fix for his return. So soon as you hear from him to arrange that circumstance, and fix the hour of meeting in this mansion, you will have the

goodness to inform me.

And now to Dante. No, dear Cary, you have by no means utterly failed to satisfy me, though I cannot but like this volume less than the first. Yet that is much more the old poet's fault than yours. My last letter was written immediately, on Miss Fern's finishing her audible course through that volume. Previous to the arrival of your last letter I had looked into several parts of it to which, when I wrote my observations, I had only listened; and I then perceived that my ear had mistaken the simile in the opening of the 24th canto; that the dazzling sister was snow, the sister of the hoar-frost, and not Cynthia, the Sun's sister. Certainly that exordium is a very poetic passage, of which you have made a very vivid and striking picture, perfectly true to nature and the descriptive Muse. I will try to point out the lines which struck me as having that faulty kind of obscurity, which results, not from the image being purposely rather hinted than expressed, with a dependence upon the reader's imagination to supply the remainder, but where from want of precision in the language, the reader becomes perplexed in his guess at the meaning.

The first instance which occurs to me is in the first canto, first vol., thus :—

"Yet, to discourse of what there good befel,

All else will I relate discovered there."—1. 8.

The passage is perfectly intelligible in Hayley, by the introduction of the word but.-"I saw terrible things, which to describe is dreadful to me, but I will tell the good which I found there." That must be the poet's meaning, and your lines do not express it.

Canto xix., line 21:

:

"and be this

A seal to undeceive."

What is meant by a seal? can it possibly stand for attestation?

66

Same canto, line 55: standest," for "standest thou," appears to me unwarrantable in our language; so also dost," for "dost thou," which frequently occurs in your translation, much, I think, to its disadvantage. Surely these are not habits with our best English poets! O dear, dear! why not say

"What then of me requir'st thou ? " *

The genius of our language will not bear the omission of the conjunctions, and you make it wantonly.

Canto xix., p. 29. To mix the usage of the second

*For "What then of me requirest ?"-Canto xix., 1. 68.